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

Rachel texted me in the middle of the day. It had been quiet at work, so I noticed the message arrive.

“Are you busy?”

“Not so much, what’s up?”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure”

She arrived about twenty minutes later. She was dressed in her usual plain clothes, just jeans and a T-shirt.

“You see,” I said, “this is what I’m talking about. You dress plainly, so I feel I have to fix that.”

“Actually,” she said, “that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“OK, but first how about you get more comfortable.”

We walked through to the living room, and sat down.

“Oh, did I not make myself understood? I’d like you to undress.”

She liked being told what to do, so stepped out of her sneakers and socks, then unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down and off.

“It would be better if those were a lot tighter,” I said.

She pulled her T-shirt off over her head, leaving her in her white underwear. I kept looking at her, and she unhooked her bra.

“Can I keep my panties on for the moment? It’ll make sense soon, I promise.”

I nodded, intrigued. She sat down.

“So you know you complain about my dull panties?”

I nodded.

“I wear them because they’re cheap.”

“I’m happy to buy you some sexy ones, so you can look sexier while we’re playing our games.”

“That’s not what I mean. Well, really. See, I want cheap panties because I only wear them once.”

I obviously looked a little confused at this.

“See,” she carried on, “the thing is, I make money on the side by selling them.”

“What?”

“I sell my used panties. I have a little side business on a web site. It’s how I’m paying my way through school.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

“I dunno, maybe a year?”

“Um, OK. How much do you sell them for?”

“That’s the thing – I auction them. There are a big bunch of guys who bid against each other, and ones I’ve worn to work or whatever usually go for like $10 or so.”

“How do they know that?” I asked.

“I do a little journal entry, right, of each pair, often with a picture of me in then – just the panties, no face or anything, and then people know what they’re getting.”

“Show me.”

She pulled up the web site on her phone. It was pretty basic, and the pictures of her looked like something from a department store catalogue.

“Interesting. I always thought that was a fringe Japanese thing.”

“Oh no, there are a load of guys registered on my site. None in Japan yet, that I’m aware of.”

“I can make the site better if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Better pictures, video, subscription, that sort of thing.”

“Maybe.”

“OK, so…”

“Well, what I’ve found out is that guys really like the stories I’ve been telling about what I did in the panties, and I’m finding that panties I’ve been really turned on in, with a story, sell for a lot more. Like $100 to $150 more. And the stories they seem to like are the ones you’ve pushed me through.”

“OK, so…”

“I just wanted to check that you’re OK with this. I mean, I can cut you in if you want…”

“That’s not necessary.”

“The thing is, there are some requests coming in. I usually do better on those. In the past, they’ve been for panties I’ve exercised in, or that I’ve worn for a week or something.”

“But now?”

“Now they’re for panties I’ve worn while blowing somebody, or I put on after getting fucked. They’re getting really specific, but they’re offering me a bunch of money. I don’t think I’ll do all of them, or even focus on them, it’ll just be one a week or something, I guess. I just wanted you to know. And be OK with me wearing panties, like all the time. I know you’ve talked about me not wearing them and stuff.”

“If you bring me the request list, I’m sure we can get some of them knocked off in our games.”

“That’s the thing, I’ve noticed that every time I put up one of your stories, I get more requests to do something similar again. It’s like you’re giving them ideas or something.”

“Can we at least get you something urfa escort sexier?”

“I don’t know. Part of me thinks they like the innocent panties doing sexy stuff thing. We can see, I guess.”

“I’d like to try,” I said.

“How about I try on some sexy panties, and buy them, then see how they sell?”

“Well, we could do that today, but you’re hardly dressed for trying on clothes.”

“I like to wear jeans, as it pushes my panties against me, so they… I guess, smell? better than dresses. It’ll be fine, it’ll just take me longer to change is all.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “Come on then, get dressed, we’re going shopping.”

She picked up her bra.

“You don’t need that, unless you sell those, too?”

She dropped it on the sofa, and pulled the rest of her clothes on. She took my hand, and we headed out.

“We do this my way, OK?” I asked her. “No questions, just do as you’re told.”

She nodded, and we went in to the clothing department of the store. She looked nervous. I asked her what size she was, then we wandered around the lingerie section while picking up a variety of different styles and colors of panties and bras.

We went over to the changing rooms. There were six changing rooms, three on each side, and they faced a sitting area that was in the main store. At the other end of the tunnel, there was a large mirror.

“I’ll sit here,” I said, in the seating area, “and I’ll give you what I want to see you in next. I want to see you in only what I give you, OK?”

She nodded, looking nervous. I gave her a white cotton thong, and she headed in to the changing room. There was nobody else about, and I sat and looked through the underwear we’d chosen until she came out in just the thong. I took a picture of her, then had her turn around and took one from the back. It looked pretty sexy – a lot sexier than what she normally wore. I had her come over to me, where anybody could have seen her if they’d been looking. She put her arm over her tits, but I let that go. I pulled the straps up her hips, pushing the crotch up against her pussy. She stepped back into the tunnel and I took another picture, then she hurriedly went back into the changing room, then came back dressed and gave me the thong. I knew we were buying all of these, so I started a new pile, and gave her a lacy red thong to try next.

She headed off and shortly afterwards, popped out wearing just that. I took pictures and she went to get dressed again. I could tell she was really turned on, as her nipples were hard.

“Why don’t you just change here?” I asked. “It’ll save you some time, and there’s nobody about.”

She’d been posing in the little tunnel between the changing rooms, where only coming to me meant the possibility of being seen by more of the store.

I held out a yellow thong to her, and she looked around before coming and taking it, then stepped back between the changing rooms. She stripped off the red thong, and put on the yellow one, then posed for me to take my pictures.

She came back fully dressed and gave me the yellow thong, and I dropped it on the pile with the others.

“How are you doing?” I asked her.

“Incredibly turned on,” she answered, grinning.

A married couple came up, with the wife having a couple of blouses to try on. I gave Rachel a black panty and bra set, and she headed off to get changed, and the husband sat down next to me.

His wife came out in one of the blouses, and he nodded at her. She went back into the changing room. Rachel came out in the black underwear set, and I had her pose for a couple of pictures, blushing furiously. The husband really enjoyed seeing her, and seemed excited to see what happened next.

His wife came out in the next blouse as Rachel came out to give me back the underwear set. He nodded at his wife, and she went back into the changing room while I took the set from Rachel, and gave her a red set. She headed off to get changed.

His wife came out in another blouse, and he nodded again. Before she pulled the curtain back, Rachel sivas escort opened her curtain, and came out. We watched her, approvingly, and I took pictures, while the wife looked at her husband angrily, and Rachel disapprovingly. Rachel headed back to get changed, and we heard the wife give a loud tut. I know, young people today.

The wife came out, dressed in her own clothes, and stood in front of her husband. Rachel came out, dressed, and gave me the red set. I gave her a pair of red boy shorts. She took them and headed off, and the wife dragged the husband away before he got to see Rachel’s next pose.

She came out, and I took a couple of pictures. There was nobody about, so I held out a red lacy bra, and she came and took it.

She went to put it on, and I said “One item at a time”.

She went to step back between the changing rooms to take off the panties, and I said “uh uh, here.”

Quickly, without looking around, she took off the shorts and put on the bra. I took a couple of pictures, then said “why don’t you go and get dressed again?” I held my hand out.

She took off the bra and gave it to me, then headed for the changing rooms. I called to her, and took a couple of pictures of her there naked before she went back in and got dressed.

We took the underwear we’d already chosen, and headed off to find a dress.

After browsing around for a few minutes, I found a small black dress she could try on. I handed it to her, and she started off towards the changing room, but I grabbed her hand.

“There’s nobody about, you can try it on here.”

She looked around, quickly, then pulled her shirt off, giving it to me, and pulled the dress on. She then undid her jeans and pulled them down, taking them off and handing them to me. She twirled around.

“What do you think?”

“I like it. Because it’s a little bit looser, you can’t see your panty line. I think we’ll take it. Let me find a summer dress, OK?”

She stood there, looking at herself in the mirror at the end cap, when I came over with a summer dress. I handed it to her, but before she could do anything, a store clerk was coming our way. She was older than us, and a little tubby. She had an amused look on her face, rather than being angry.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but we have changing rooms over here – you shouldn’t undress on the floor here where anybody can see you. Let me show you.”

Rachel blushed, and I had to try really hard not to burst out laughing. I let the clerk lead us over to the changing rooms, and sat down when she went in to the changing rooms with Rachel.

They were gone an awful long time, and eventually Rachel came out with the summer dress on. She looked flushed, and posed for me, then scuttled back in to the changing room.

I sat there for a while, waiting, sitting there with Rachel’s clothes, until she came out in just her panties and took them from me before heading back. A minute or so later, she came back out, dressed, carrying the dresses on hangars. She looked really embarrassed.

We went and paid for the underwear and dresses, then went and to a coffee shop to get a drink and let her calm down a little.

“That was unreal,” she said, babbling excitedly. “When she took me in to the changing room, she told me somebody had complained about me trying on underwear, and she’d watched me change into the dress, and she thought I looked really sexy, standing there topless for a few seconds. So she started to come over, and then you gave me the other dress, and she thought she’d like to see me strip off again, but just for her. So she stood there and I took the dress off, and stood there in just my panties waiting for her to give me the summer dress. She reached out and felt my tits, and I leant in and kissed her. So we made out for a little bit, and I remembered that I was supposed to be trying on the dress. I took it from her, and put it on, then came out and posed for you.”

“Ah,” I said, “that’s why you were gone so long.”

“Yeah,” she said, “so I went back, and she took the dress tekirdağ escort from me and hung it up with the other one behind her. She pulled me to her, and kissed me again. She stood in front of the dresses, so I came out and got my clothes from you in just my panties, then got dressed – the rest you know.”

“How are you doing?”

“God, I am so turned on. My panties are soaking.”

“You going to auction them?”

“Oh yes,” she said, “I want to go home and swap panties before work.”

“I have a better idea. We have panties here,” I said, motioning at the bag, “take a pair to the restroom and get changed, then we’ll go back to the store.”

I gave her the white thong, and she stood up.

“Men’s restroom,” I said. “And not in a stall.”

She grinned and headed off. A minute later I got a picture from her on my phone, of her in just the thong. It was a selfie, taken in the mirror over the sink in the restroom.

When she came back, we headed back to the store.

“OK, you’re going to find that assistant, and ask her to help you try on a bikini. That way she can really have you strip for her.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“Walking around. I’ll leave you to it, I know where you’ll be.”

She headed off and found the assistant, and I watched as they went and picked out a bikini. Then they went not to the changing rooms, but to an “Employees Only” area at the back of the store. Interesting.

I was pottering around the store looking at storage bins when I got a picture of Rachel in a white string bikini. She looked like she was in a little employee rest area, and I could see her clothes lying on a chair behind her. It wasn’t a selfie, it was taken by somebody else.

Then I received a picture of her with the string on the top undone, holding the little fabric triangles over her tits.

Then I received a picture of her topless, but holding one of the strings for the bottoms out to the side, undoing the bow.

Then I received a picture of her with one side of the bikini undone, undoing the bow on the other side.

Then I received a picture of her with both sides of the bottoms undone, and the front flap of fabric down, showing her pussy.

Then I received a picture of her fully naked.

I waited to get another picture. It took a few minutes, then there was a picture of her kneeling down naked, with her head under the front of a skirt.

I figured she was too busy to send anything else, so I carried on looking at some of the other displays while I waited for her to come back. I was looking at TVs when she came bounding up to me.

“Let’s go back to your place,” she said, and grabbed my hand and dragged me out of there.

She didn’t want to talk about it until we got home, where she stripped off, put her now wet thong with her other soiled panties, and put on a different thong.

“So I went and found the assistant, Anne, and said I’d like her help with a bikini. She just looked at me and smiled, and said she knew just the one for me. She went and grabbed it, and said of course I’d want to try it on, and took me to the employee’s coffee area, not the changing rooms. I asked if she could lock the door, and she said no, it doesn’t have a lock. So, I quickly undressed, and she took her damn time giving me the suit. I pulled the bottoms on first, then the top, and she had me pose for the pictures – I sent you a few of them, but there are more on my phone. Well, she had me strip off, then we started making out. I’m standing there in their staff room, naked, with her all over me, and she pulled her skirt up and her panties down, and I went down on her. She has a hairy pussy, but pretty nice legs. She must have been really turned on, as it didn’t take her long to cum. She used my thong to wipe herself, then my face, then told me to put them back on. I got dressed, and she gave me the bikini. She said to come back any time, as she really enjoyed herself. And now I want you to go down on me and make me cum before I have to go and get ready for work.”

She came over to me, wearing just the yellow thong, and I reached around to hold her butt, and licked her clit through her thong until she came.

She took the thong off, and put another one on, then finished getting dressed.

“Right,” she said, “I’ve got to go.”

She grabbed the bag of clothes, and I saw her out.

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 feel nervous excitement as I board. I’ve taken this train a thousand times, but today is special. Today the train journey, at its end, becomes a trip into my wildest fantasies.

I can back out any time that I want to. I want to. I want this to be a journey like any other, to sit half asleep, scrolling through Instagram on my phone, headphones on, pretending I don’t notice guys checking me out, annoyed when they do, annoyed when they don’t. I want to get off the train as another face on the platform, disappear into the station, make for home.

I want to do that.

I don’t want to do that.

I don’t want to chicken out and regret another missed opportunity.

I want my fantasy to become reality.

It’s busy in the train carriage. I wonder how long it will be busy for? Too busy, and I won’t be able to go through with it. But there are many stops before mine, as the train takes us further and further out of the city, so I’m not worried.

I’m worried.

I’m worried that after I told my friend Andrea that today was the day, I’ve picked a bad time. I worry that the crowd won’t thin, that I’ll be too observed. I spend the journey in a state of heightened anxiety, counting the passengers as they get off, mulling over whether to switch seats or carriages, whether that will draw more attention to me.

Gradually, a few at each stop, they start to leave the carriages.

I will myself to relax.

It’s bright. The sun was hot today, and it flares through the scratched Perspex windows of the carriage. It makes reaching into my bag for sunglasses, unfolding them, putting them on, a natural gesture. I feel safer behind them, more anonymous.

We’re getting close to my stop now. Maybe ten minutes. There are two more stops to go. I’m almost on my own in my little space. One empty seat next to me, two opposite. Across the aisle from me, another woman, in the same position.

We stop again. She gets up. She goes to the doors. She gets out of the carriage.

There are other people in the carriage. I crane my neck, I count a dozen, maybe fifteen. But I’m unobserved now in my little space. I’m not in anyone’s natural line of sight. They’d have to be trying hard to see me to see me.

My chest feels tight. It’s time now. Time to start.

I don’t want to.

I want to.

I wriggle in my seat. My cotton dress is loose, I reach up under the skirt with both my hands. I find my panties, find the tight elastic hem against my thighs. I slide my thumbs beneath it, working my hands to the sides. I make fists, the fabric of my panties bunched in my small hands. I lift my butt off the seat, I pull, the panties come down. They’re round my legs, then my knees, then leaning forward I pull them to my ankles, work my feet through the leg holes and then sit back.

I remember to breathe then.

I look around. Nobody has noticed.

I smooth the skirt of my dress back down. My face must be red already. My heart is pounding.

My panties are balled up in my fist. I discard them, stuffing them between myself and the wall of the carriage.

I’m not wearing any panties. I part my legs cautiously, the brush of the fabric of my dress directly against my skin a confirmation to my body that, yes, this is happening.

But I could still stop if I wanted to.

I don’t kütahya escort want to.

Now comes the tricky part.

I look around again to make sure I’m not observed. I’m not. I lean forward. I reach up behind my back, arm bending. I find the clasp of my bra, easily accessible beneath my light cotton dress. I unhook it, feeling the tension vanish in the straps as everything loosens.

Then comes the ballet, the dance called ‘woman removing her bra beneath her top’. A piece of performance all women get the knack of, either from modesty or laziness. Arms slide through fabric, through straps and out again.

I’m midway through this routine when the train pulls into a station.

I freeze, my bra half-pulled out of my dress.

Two passengers get up from their seats.

One ignores me. The other, a man, glances in my direction.

How must I look? A young brunette in a cotton dress and sunglasses, blatantly removing her bra from underneath her dress while sitting in a train carriage.

His brain figures out what his eyes are seeing. He does a perfect double-take. He stares.

I can do nothing.

I smile, a guilty, caught smile.

He stares.

Then the doors open, and still staring at me, he gets off the train.

I’m still frozen.

The doors close. The train rumbles into life. The train begins to pull away from the station.

I unfreeze.

My bra makes the rest of its way out of my dress. I stuff it down where my panties are. Reflexively I adjust myself beneath my dress. My breasts are just a little too big to go bra-less, especially in a dress like this. They look strange in their liberated state.

My nipples are hard in spite of the heat of the carriage, pushing against the cotton of the dress.

I pause, trying to calm my racing pulse, my ragged nerves. I take a cautious look out and down the carriage. I can’t see to head count now, but there seem to be still a dozen folks riding the train with me. Mine isn’t the last stop.

But it is the next stop.

I’ve maybe four minutes.

My stomach turns butterflies, my chest tightens.

I can still stop if I want to.

I don’t want to.

I take the hem of my dress in my hands. I chose to do the dress last, hence the rigmarole with my underwear. But the dress is all I have left.

I extend my arms, lifting, feeling the dress lift from my body. I am blindfolded by the cotton as I pull it over my head, vulnerable, unknowing. I don’t want to prolong that state but the only thing I can do now is keep going, take the dress off.

Then my dress is off. It’s in my hands, and then it’s lying on the seat next to me.

I’m naked.

I’m completely naked.

I’m a 26-year-old woman and I’m sitting completely naked in a train carriage.

I’m breathing hard, my chest rising and falling. I try not to look at myself but I can’t help it. I look down, at my bare breasts, my terracotta nipples, the fold of my belly, the neat patch of dark brown hair between my legs.

I’m naked.

I feel naked. I feel the rough fibres of the train seat against my back, my butt, my thighs. I feel the heat of the carriage on my skin, feel the warmth of the sunlight through the window playing across my body.

It’s almost too much.

Familiar landscape manisa escort passes by me. Almost home. Two and a half minutes, maybe.

I have a decision to make.

Two minutes.

I make my decision. I reach over. I take the handles of my hemp tote bag in my hand, I shoulder it.

I stand up.

I’m naked.

My legs are shaking. I feel faint.

People can see me.

People in the train carriage can see me now that I’m stood up. They can see that I’m naked.

I stare straight ahead. I try not to look at them, try not to count who can see me and who hasn’t noticed yet.

I put one foot in front of the other. I walk. I walk naked through the train carriage.

They must all be able to see me now. I catch glances as I go. Most are simply staring in disbelief.

I reach the door of the train, and I stand in front of it. I stand there completely fucking naked in full view of at least eighty per cent of the people sharing the train carriage with me, my only concession to any kind of modesty the slight screen of my tote bag on my shoulder, which hides the top half of me on one side.

I stand there and I wait for the train to pull into the station.

I try to stare ahead, at the scenery racing by through the Perspex window in the train’s double doors. I try to ignore the people, ignore the hubbub of their voices, tune out what they are saying, to each other, to me. It’s impossible.

The phones are out now. Pointed at me, doubtless photographing or filming me. Someone will upload it. It’ll be on the internet tonight; “girl naked on train”. Years from now, my future husband (whoever he may be) will be surreptitiously browsing some porn site he thinks I don’t know and would mind that he’s looking at, and he’ll see a video of me standing naked in a train carriage, holding on to the rail, waiting for my train to arrive at the station.

I don’t care.

I love it.

I wanted this.

I love it.

I feel high, I feel holy. Woman sacred, natural, nude and powerful. They don’t know who I am, they don’t know anything about me, except that I’m naked in public, and that I’ll soon be vanishing from their lives. Their glimpse of the true me will be just that, a glimpse; their photos and videos the only proof I ever did this.

Nobody approaches me. I am thankful for that, thankful I don’t have to stammer out an explanation, a refusal of advances, an assurance that I’m fine. I just want to stand here naked and let them see me and let them know my body, and then disappear.

The train is slowing. The open air gives way to the yards and then the beginnings of the platform. The train slows to a crawl and then stops.

Nobody else is standing. Of all the people in this carriage, I alone am getting off at this stop.

The doors hiss open. The platform is before me.

My clothes, my dress, my underwear, are still lying on my seat in the carriage. I have only my bag, my sandals, my sunglasses and my nakedness.

I step forward, step down off the train. I feel the fresh but still warm air on my skin.

I’m on the platform now. Other people are getting off the train, people who weren’t in my carriage. Some of them aren’t looking in my direction, but some are, seeing that I am naked, seeing that I am a woman and young mardin escort and good looking and I’m completely naked.

I love it.

I begin walking, dizzy with the thrill. I begin walking along the platform, towards the exit. People ahead of me don’t see me, they’re already focussed on the journey home. But those behind me have a clear view, a clear view of my naked butt as I walk ahead.

My body moves differently walking naked. I’m aware of its movement more. The thrill is increased.

I’m away from the platform now, descending the stairs. I laugh at my own jiggling as I descend the steps.

A man is coming the other way, he gets the full show. He stares in delighted disbelief at what he can see. I smile and keep walking.

The station concourse is ahead, the ticket barriers. I know there are cameras here, capturing my naked walk. I don’t care. I’ll be gone before anyone can react, stop me, detain me, demand an explanation.

I’m unopposed, my only obstacle ahead the ticket barrier. With practised motion I have my travel card from my bag, scan it, barely breaking my stride to give the barrier time to open and then I’m through.

Station workers are here, waiting to help people who get into difficulty with the barrier, waiting to stop those who have not paid. They stare at naked me, eyes following as I go. I feel them looking as much as see them. I smile and keep walking.

Fifty yards, past people who stare and people who just do not see, and then I’m at the doors, the big glass doors, sliding open automatically for me, no more obstacles, just the world beyond.

I step through, the heat of summer evening hitting my face and body.

For the first time since the train pulled into the station, I’m nervous. Where will she be? Will I find her quickly? Will she be there at all? Could something have happened to hold her up, is she stuck in traffic right now? Has she perhaps even had an attack of meanness, and decided to leave me to my fate.

I allow myself to stop. I stand naked on the sidewalk outside the train station with people milling around nearby, doubtless starting to notice me, and take stock of my surroundings. I scan the cars, searching.

There it is, a blue Toyota. I walk towards it, breathing a sigh of relief as I see the face of my best friend in the whole world, Andrea, looking through the windshield, sitting at the wheel.

She sees me, and her face splits into a wide grin. I can’t hear her laughing but I know she is.

There are friends, and then there are the people who will agree to collect you in their car from the station because you want to strip on a train and walk out naked, leaving your clothes behind, because it’s been your sexual fantasy since the first day you started commuting to and from work, and you’ve finally summoned up the courage to do it.

Andrea is the best.

I reach the car. I open the passenger door. I slide my naked self inside, sitting my bare butt on the cool upholstery, the A/C a shock after the heat of day. I close the door, as Andrea exclaims excitement and enthusiasm that I’ve actually done it, wanting every detail, wanting to know how it felt, what happened, I can’t believe you actually did it?

I’ll tell it all to her. I’ll put on the clothes she’s got in the back for me, we’ll go to a bar and I’ll buy her many drinks to pay her back for this as I describe every aching, thrilling detail. But right now I just want to sit here, naked in my friend’s car as she threads her way through traffic, willing my body down from this heightened, beautiful state that I wish could never end.

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

Sunday, after Persephone and Jocelyn had accomplished whatever weekend tasks that needed to be done, they went out to eat together, and went to the movies. In the darkened theater, they leaned against one another, and held hands. It was a wonderful evening. On the way back to Persephone’s home, they agreed that Jocelyn would virtually ‘move in’ and stay overnight as often as she wished. Persephone even gave her a spare key. The big brass bed was comfortable and roomy enough for both of them.

The next morning, after a lovely good morning kiss and a warm snuggle, Jocelyn initiated the plan she’d dreamed up on Saturday night. She told Persephone, “Stay naked, and get ready for work, while I prepare breakfast for us. Use the toilet, shower, put on your makeup — get completely ready, except for clothes. After breakfast, I have a surprise which will require maybe 15 to 20 minutes before you can leave for school.”

Intrigued, Persephone did as she was told.

Breakfast completed, Jocelyn took a long piece of rope, placed the bight behind Persephone’s neck, and draped the strands down her front. She tied them together down the mid-line with three knots, one above the level of the breasts, one between them, and one halfway to the navel. Passing the pair of strands between Persephone’s thighs, Jocelyn took them up her back to loop through the bight at her nape. She snugged the strands carefully into her teacher’s pussy and her ass crack.

Next, she separated the strands, taking them out through the armpits and around to the front, threading them through the top center opening between knots one and two and then back into the armpits. This ran the strands along the upper curve of Persephone’s breasts. Around the back, she threaded the strands between the vertical ropes and crossed them with each other, anchoring them at the center, just below the woman’s shoulder blades. Jocelyn gave each shoulder blade a sweet kiss, just to keep Persephone from getting bored.

The separated strands again were taken around to the front, and were threaded through the bottom center opening between knots two and three, which ran them along the under-curve of Persephone’s tits. The strands went around to the small of Persephone’s back, interlocked through the vertical ropes and crossed each other, to head around the narrow part of her waist to be tied together in the center, near her navel. The excess of each strand was snipped off with the scissors.

“This rope bondage can be worn under your clothes, my dear slut. Keep this on all day to remind you that you’re my fuck toy, OK? No bra or panties, of course,” Jocelyn said, grinning a huge grin.

“Yes… yes, Miss Jocelyn.” Persephone chose a dark skirt that fell to just above her knees. When she put on a blouse, she was aghast to see the rope showing at her neck, her tits noticeably pressed forward by the ropes, and her nipples showing against the silky material. She stripped off the blouse and opted for a loose-fitting turtleneck sweater instead. This ensemble completely concealed the ropes.

Later, Jocelyn saw her in class. There was no evidence of how she was bound under her clothing. However, as the students were filing out, Persephone said, “I need to speak to you for a moment, Jocelyn.”

“Yes, Professor Goodrich.”

Persephone shuffled some papers on her desk, as if looking for the item she wished to speak with Jocelyn about. When all the other students had left the room, she beckoned Jocelyn a little closer and whispered, “I want to obey you about keeping the ropes on all day, but I need to use the toilet, and I can’t, like this.”

“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks for telling me. When’s your next class today?”

Persephone looked at the wall clock. “Not for 45 minutes.”

“Good. Let’s head to the toilet right now and solve this,” Jocelyn told her.

Luckily, the ladies room they chose was empty of other people. They entered a stall together, closing and securing the door. “OK, take off all your clothes,” Jocelyn whispered.

Persephone stripped down until she was standing in just ropes, looking shy and embarrassed.

Jocelyn quickly untied her, and gave her privacy to use the toilet, saying, “When you’re done, come and join me in the farthest stall.”

After a few minutes, Persephone, looking relieved, entered the farthest stall. She was carrying her clothes, rather than putting them back on, because she’d peeked and seen that the room was still empty. Jocelyn sat on the stall’s toilet, and had Persephone stand on edge of the toilet seat facing her, bent over, her hands braced to the rear wall of the stall. Anyone looking under the partitions would only see Jocelyn’s feet.

Jocelyn smiled and parted Persephone’s labia, which were right in front of her face. Driving her facile tongue into her teacher’s wet, steamy pussy, she performed a spirited act of cunnilingus. Once she was dining on the woman’s sweet juices, she reached up to grasp and hold her ass cheeks. But after a short while, she reached blindly up and back to fondle the woman’s kuşadası escort tits, which dangled beneath her as she leaned. Jocelyn was eating so ravenously that it only took a few minutes for her teacher to climax. Persephone came in Jocelyn’s mouth, keeping silent as she had her orgasm, which was quite difficult.

Once her teacher’s shaking had quieted, and her flow had abated, Jocelyn lapped her pussy clean, and let her dress again. “See you for dinner? We might dine at the ’69 Club’ tonight,” she said, as they were preparing to leave the ladies room.

Persephone looked confused… “I’ve never heard of… OH!” She blushed fiercely, and smiled, nodding.

That evening, after dinner and a refreshing shower together, toweling off, Jocelyn told Persephone, “I’m going into the bedroom. Please give me five minutes or so, and then join me. We may as well stay nude.” Her tone of voice was not commanding at all — just seductive.

When Persephone entered the bedroom, she saw Jocelyn stretched out naked on top of the mattress. Moreover, her arms were raised above her head. The reason why became clear after a moment — she’d handcuffed herself to the brass headboard of the bed. Persephone’s heart skipped a beat, and then thumped faster with joy at seeing her student offering herself in this manner.

As she walked to the bed, she noticed something else. She thought to herself, “Was that rope always tied to the bottom leg of the bed?” Quick on the uptake, she knew why it was placed there. Giggling, she grabbed the rope, and, pulling Jocelyn’s leg until it was diagonal atop the mattress, tied the rope to her ankle. She then checked the other bottom leg of the bed. Sure enough — another rope. Moments later, Jocelyn’s lower body was tied into a spread eagle position, although her arms were cuffed up alongside her ears. She squirmed deliciously before Persephone’s eyes.

“So tonight you’re my captive, I see,” she said to the bound blonde. “This should be interesting. That rope this morning reminded me in every class that I’m now your fuck toy, and, to be honest, I still feel that way. But it’s nice to see you helpless now, offering yourself as my plaything.”

“I just thought you deserved a treat, since you put up with me tying your body up like that for your morning classes,” Jocelyn informed her. “What better treat could I give you than the free use of my body?”

Persephone moved close to her and kissed her sweetly on her lips. Looking into her eyes, she said, “Nothing. No treat could be better than this. You know I found you attractive, right from our first meeting. As we worked together, and got to know each other — our likes, dislikes, and needs — that attraction grew. Not just for your body, but also for your mind, heart, and spirit. I love you, Jocelyn, and I don’t care if everyone knows it.”

Jocelyn felt a tear of happiness appear in her eye and roll across her cheek toward her ear. “I love you too, Persephone. You make me feel happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Thank you for loving me. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy, too.”

“I trust that you will, sweetie.” She got up off the bed. “Now, what would be a fun way to start?” She paused and thought, eyeing Jocelyn’s body. “I know just the thing!” Going to her dresser, she opened a lower drawer and pulled out — a feather tickler. It was a wand with a large Ostrich feather at its end. She waved it slowly through the air as she approached the bed.

“We’ve never established if you’re ticklish, Jocelyn,” she said with a grin. Jocelyn bit her lip in a fetching manner, and squirmed in her restraints, saying nothing. “Actually, this feather is more sensuous than it is ticklish. Just feel this.” She ran the feather softly over Jocelyn’s foot.

Jocelyn briefly cringed, tensed up, and curled her toes in anticipation, fearing what it might feel like. But as the sensations registered in her brain, she sighed happily, and the tension left her body. “Oh! That’s… that’s utterly delightful!” she declared.

Persephone had a pleased expression on her face as she stroked her student’s body with the feather. She played it up and down her legs, across her pussy, mound and tummy. Jocelyn was making purring sounds in her throat as the feather played with her breasts, neck, and cheeks. The purring got very loud when Persephone parted Jocelyn’s labia and retracted her clit hood, dragging the feather over and over through that area. Probably twenty minutes went by. By the time Persephone finished stroking her. Jocelyn’s skin was fully alert and begging for more contact.

“That was enjoyable for me, and it looks like you enjoyed it as well,” Persephone remarked. Jocelyn nodded, smiling, and displayed eyes that sparkled. “But we still haven’t established if you’re ticklish, my little captive.” Before Jocelyn could utter a sound, Persephone tossed the feather tickler aside and started whispering her fingertips rapidly over the young woman’s rib cage!

Jocelyn shrieked and writhed, laughing as the tickling kocaeli escort assault tested, in addition to her rib cage, her armpits, the lower curve of her tits, her mound, the backs of her knees, and her feet. She was ticklish in all those places, they both learned. Both she and Persephone were laughing merrily as this play went on for a while, with short breathers to let Jocelyn calm down between bouts. Of course, she couldn’t calm too much, because she was restrained and vulnerable, and Persephone might take a notion to begin again at any moment.

Finally, Persephone got off the bed again and went to her dresser. She pulled out a bottle of sweet almond oil. Once Jocelyn figured out what was in the bottle, she asked curiously, “What are you going to do with that stuff?”

Persephone came over close to her, pumping some of the oil into the palm of her hand. A soft fragrance of almonds became evident. “I’m going to do this,” Persephone answered, carefully smearing the oil over her own tits. Jocelyn watched as her professor’s breasts began to gleam with the thin oil. Persephone tilted her torso back and gave a small squirt onto each of her nipples, before setting the bottle down so she had two free hands to thoroughly coat her mammaries with the scented oil.

“Would you like some on your breasts, too, Jocelyn?”

“Yes, please,” the bound woman replied.

“Good answer,” Persephone cooed as she climbed onto the bed, straddling Jocelyn’s hips. She leaned forward and pressed her tits down onto Jocelyn’s and then began small gliding movements — up, down, side to side, and small circles — massaging the aromatic oil onto Jocelyn’s breasts with her own. Jocelyn began moaning softly at this erotic contact. Her moans were stifled as Persephone began kissing her passionately, still undulating her torso against Jocelyn’s.

Jocelyn’s lips parted and her tongue waited at the entrance of her mouth, ready to receive Persephone’s. She didn’t have long to wait. Their tongues touched, caressed, and danced eagerly together as the skin of their upper bodies glided in smooth strokes against one another. Both women were moaning/humming with the pleasure of that contact.

When they broke off the kiss to come up for air, Persephone’s green eyes seemed to be glowing with some inner fire. She whispered to her captive, “Oh yes. You said something earlier about wanting to dine at ‘Club 69’ as I recall.” The pupils in Jocelyn’s blue eyes dilated as those words registered. But Persephone was already pivoting carefully, her slippery breasts gliding around, and down Jocelyn’s torso as she moved. Her breasts painted a trail of oil down onto Jocelyn’s tummy, while Jocelyn’s perky, upthrust tits did the same to Persephone’s tummy.

Persephone looked back over her shoulder to guide her feet into the openings between the brass bed’s headboard supporting poles as she settled her pussy over Jocelyn’s mouth. The blonde young woman wasted no time in setting her lips and tongue to work munching on her teacher’s wet, steamy pussy. With her wrists cuffed to the headboard, those were the only tools she could bring to this task. Her tongue immediately encountered the nectar it sought. Delicate slurping sounds emerged from between Persephone’s thighs, and the student’s actions made her quiver as electrifying sensations of pleasure coursed through her from that location.

Meanwhile, Persephone had free use of her hands, and she used her gently shaking fingers to open Jocelyn’s labia wide, taking a few moments to admire her gleaming inner pinkness. The young woman’s fragrance was released, rivaling the sweetness of the almond oil. Persephone inhaled appreciatively, and then began licking the inner surfaces of those outer labia, held between her fingers. The salty taste blended with the scent in a tantalizing manner. Since Jocelyn was restrained so beautifully, Persephone took advantage of her predicament by first licking her tiny pee hole several times, and then applying her lips around that tiny opening and sucking gently.

Jocelyn, who’d been spearing her tongue into the pussy partially covering her face, suddenly gasped and tried to buck her hips as her pee hole reported that strange, subtle vacuum! But Persephone’s weight pinned most of her torso against the bed, and her hands had slipped under Jocelyn’s ass to grip her butt firmly, keeping it inert. “Persephone,” she moaned, “that makes me feel like I have to pee!” She felt the woman nod with a tiny head movement, not breaking contact or releasing the gentle suction. “Oh… oh… oh…” the blonde cried softly. “I… can’t… hold… it. Watch out!”

Her bladder began to empty itself. Jocelyn was shocked as she became aware of Persephone drinking! Her teacher was drinking her piss! As the fluid was whisked away, more followed it, and was consumed. Jocelyn was dazed by this act.

But Persephone reveled in it. Even though Jocelyn was handcuffed and tied as the captive in the play, Persephone still needed to perform some act of submission. Drinking the young girl’s konya escort urine was a satisfactory compromise. Persephone had no fears about the fluid itself, knowing its composition and relative sterility. Indeed, if Jocelyn stood in front of her and wanted to piss in her mouth, Persephone would gladly part her lips and tilt her head back, submitting to it. In fact, she might suggest such a thing to Jocelyn, if doing that was acceptable to her. If not, perhaps her student could be prevailed upon to pee on her face or body — perhaps out on the lawn or in the bathtub, to make it less messy. She was tingling with the thoughts of future golden showers when the flow of urine into her mouth ceased. Jocelyn’s bladder was now empty.

“Thank you, Jocelyn,” Persephone whispered. “I needed to do that.” She gave the blonde’s clit several loving kisses, and then went back to tonguing her labia. Jocelyn quivered beneath her, her mind a turmoil of emotion. She’d just pissed into her teacher’s mouth! And, as far as she could tell, Persephone had drunk it all down! Jocelyn’s initial shock gradually faded, replaced by… by… a feeling of… well… dominance. Even though she was bound to the bed, and supposedly at Persephone’s mercy, somehow her teacher had found a way to perform an act of submission to her. Jocelyn was finally understanding how much Persephone needed to be controlled and humiliated to be satisfied. The young blonde silently vowed to try to give her what she needed — out of love.

But for now, Persephone’s pussy was at her lips, and that required her immediate attention.

Persephone was busy lapping away at Jocelyn’s fragrant pussy, while teasing her ass hole with a fingertip when she felt the sudden change taking place down between her thighs. Jocelyn was suddenly eating her with such an intensity that Persephone arched her back from the thrilling sensations. This only served to make her pussy shove harder against Jocelyn’s oral ministrations! The pleasure shot through Persephone’s body, virtually wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her in rapid succession! Also, like wringing out a soaking wet towel, Persephone’s cunt juices cascaded onto Jocelyn’s face and mouth! She got to drink some of it, but it was spewing so fast that most just gushed over her face and into her hair and ears! It was like bathing in a warm shower!

Finally, Persephone managed to suck enough air into her lungs to cry out, “Mercy! Please, mercy, my darling!” Jocelyn stopped what she was doing. Persephone swung around on the bed, kissed her student with a passionate tenderness that thrilled them both. She licked as much pussy juice off Jocelyn’s face as she could, then slid downward, worshiping the blonde’s tits, belly, and mound before planting her own lips on Jocelyn’s sopping cunt. She performed such ardent acts of cunnilingus on that wonderful pussy and clit that Jocelyn twisted in her restraints, gasping out several orgasms, before she too whispered, “Mercy.”

Persephone untied the ropes, and freed Jocelyn’s wrists from the handcuffs. They showered together once again, and collapsed into a loving embrace to fall deeply asleep.

Not too many days after that, Jocelyn was testing her newfound feelings of dominance. She got a moment alone with Persephone, and whispered into her ear, “Tonight I want you naked, blindfolded, with your wrists cuffed behind your back, kneeling by your door when I arrive. Understand, my dear slut?”

Persephone felt her nipples instantly stiffen, and her inner cunt muscles contract, hearing these instructions. She whispered back, “Yes, Miss. I will obey.”

That evening, Jocelyn let herself into Persephone’s house and shivered with joy. Her russet-haired teacher was indeed blindfolded and naked. She was kneeling a little away from the door, so it wouldn’t bump into her when it was opened. Since her arms were pulled back behind her, due to the handcuffs holding her wrists in the small of her back, Persephone’s 36C breasts looked even more prominent on her chest. “I’m home, my naughty little slut,” Jocelyn said, and watched as Persephone’s skin broke out in goosebumps of excitement.

She leaned down and tapped one of Persephone’s knees, commanding, “Open your knees more for me. I like seeing your pussy on display.” As her teacher opened her thighs even wider, Jocelyn saw Persephone’s swollen labia, and the puddle of pussy juice pooling on the floor beneath them. She touched the labia with a gentle caress, murmuring, “I see you’ve been looking forward to my arrival.” In response, Persephone moaned with need. “That’s good, because I have a little present for your lovely nipples.”

Persephone couldn’t see it, but Jocelyn was holding a small, clear plastic tube with a suction bulb on one end. Threaded over the other end was a rubber ring. Holding the suction bulb with all the air squeezed out of it, she placed the open end so that it firmly engulfed one of Persephone’s nipples. As she released the suction bulb, that nipple was forcibly pulled into the tube, and it also swelled up as the suction pulled more blood into its erectile tissues. When the nipple appeared fully inflated, Jocelyn carefully rolled the rubber ring off the end of the tube, where it snapped into place at the base of the nipple, trapping the blood, and keeping it swollen. She did the same thing to the other nipple.

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

Leia –April Fool’s Day at the university pool after close

In retrospect, I should have known that she would strike at the pool. It should have been my one safe place on campus, but I did have it coming after what I did two years ago. It didn’t seem to help that my hilarious prank finally broke the ice between Candice and my twin brother, Luke. They both have seemed insanely and sometimes nauseatingly happy together for the last two years. My friend confided in me that my brother was the one; their post-undergraduate plans involved them together. I had no doubt that they were destined for great things once we finished college, but that didn’t seem to have softened her need for some well-deserved revenge.

I had been so meticulous today, on the lookout for all the classic pranks, and I had even caught a few of her more amateur attempts to embarrass or inconvenience me. I was quite happy that I noticed the old plastic wrap over the toilet trick before I sat to pee this morning. The salt replacing the sugar next to the coffee pot almost caught me, but she didn’t know that I had started taking my morning Joe black. The fact that we still shared an apartment left her plenty of opportunities to strike. Candice did spend far more time over at Luke’s place than our own these days. This was good as I had no desire to listen to that pair’s constant boisterous lovemaking. This morning though, she had plenty of time to lay sneaky traps.

I was always a late riser after a meet. I was on the university’s dive team, I wasn’t going to be making any waves on the national stage or anything, but I had the talent to get my college at the private university paid for. Our big meets came fast and furious as the semester really got going. My late start today was more due to the team drowning our sorrows after a particularly disastrous showing against our cross-state rival.

I did not stay at the pub too late or get too crazy, but I was glad that Matt, the men’s swim team’s comely captain, drove me home. I would like to think it was because he was into me, but he took half the team home. I did get to sit shotgun, and I was the last one he dropped off, but maybe I am trying to read too much into things. Though I don’t recall him walking any of the other guys or girls to their front door.

He was swarthy, with a ready smile and the most intense brown eyes, and a fantastic sense of humor. All his time in the pool made him ripped, and he had the respect of his team. What I am trying to get across to you was that the man was just my type, and I wish he had tried something, but he was too nice of a guy. He would not take advantage of my slightly buzzed state.

I should explain my best friend and I’s relationship a little more before I just dive right into the aftermath of her carefully plotted vengeance. Candice was a neighbor and a close friend growing up. I don’t have any memories from before she was in our lives. My mom had pictures of us together before we could crawl. We were far more like sisters than best friends; our parents were close with her folks and fellow nerds. From the number of pictures when we were babies, you would have thought we were triplets.

And yes, reader, before you ask, my brother, Luke, and I were named after exactly who you think we were. When my mom found out they were having fraternal twins, the name was picked for them. At least that was what they claimed whenever Luke or I complained. A love of Sci-Fi was how they met in the first place. Their first date was to one of the re-releases of those classic films. The nineties were a different time for nerds; they had yet to take over popular culture as they have today.

Luke and I have an older brother, Terry; he’s two years older than us. He was named after a fantasy writer that my parents also enjoyed. His name was not nearly as obvious as my twin and I’s. Terry and Luke were close as we grew up. Candice was an only child, and we ended up spending as much time together as sisters. She even went on vacation with us several times as kids, and her parents took me along on a trip to the mountains of Colorado. A few years later, when her parents went through a rough divorce, our house was more welcoming than her own. I had a bunk bed in my room just for Candy. I am the only one that can ever call my conniving friend that, and even then, I get a well-deserved dirty look.

In a way, our own adolescent rebellion led us to more athletic pursuits. Candice and I were rivals and teammates in many sports growing up. Between too much time on buses and good old-fashioned team bonding, it led to the start of an escalating prank war that nearly tore us apart when we pushed it too far. A particularly epic round of jokes in high school led both of us to just about wholly shave our heads near the end of our junior year. It was not a popular look with the guys at school. Luke shaved his head in a show of solidarity, but it didn’t seem to be the same impediment to his social life. This led to the informal treaty that still governed our war; çorum escort we would abstain from the tricks on any day but April Fool’s Day. Of course, this meant when the unofficial holiday came around, we went big.

It probably helped calm things when the two of us started specializing in our sporting pursuits and didn’t spend as much downtime waiting for events to begin together. We didn’t have nearly the same audience or time together to perfect our art. Candice leaned into cross country and track. Her lean, lithe body and long legs seemed to work well in her chosen sports. I always loved the pool. At first, it was swimming, but now I was far more into the diving end of things. I was still in the water, but this better reconciled my prior love for gymnastics.

Both Candice and I had gotten good enough to receive scholarships at a private university across the state from our hometown. Luke, however, was a big damn baseball star, good enough that he had his name mentioned in professional baseball blogs as a future prospect. My twin had the pitching arm that would have allowed him to go almost anywhere; mom and dad insisted he go somewhere to get a good education. Luke had the skill for the big leagues, but he didn’t have the desire or passion for going from farm team to farm team while he earned his way to the big show. He far more enjoyed his time in molecular biology and organic chemistry classes. He intended to someday help discover the cure for cancer, but that would require more years in school.

I didn’t have quite the lofty, world-saving goals of my brother; maybe I was the evil twin in the pair. Perhaps evil is too harsh of a word; I would propose that I was the mischievous or impish twin. I was far more at home behind a computer screen and working on graphic design. I had killed it in my internship the previous summer and had a job offer waiting for me as soon as I graduated. I would be heading back to my hometown after this semester.

Candice was close to a nursing degree. She knew she wanted to be an OR nurse and had an open invitation to apply at a local hospital. My best friend had yet to decide, though. She wouldn’t admit it to even me; I thought she was waiting to see where Luke ended up for his post-graduate program. I better be her maid of honor when those two get married.

Anyway, I had not planned on my mostly innocent prank going awry two years ago. I had been merciless that day, but the joke that hit big was not what I imagined it would. I knew that she got up for a long run every morning before class and capped off her run with sandwich cookies and coffee for breakfast. The treats probably didn’t taste nearly as good with toothpaste instead of the standard stuff. Since she had plenty of toothpaste already, I hoped she didn’t mind anchovy paste on her toothbrush. She was not a fan when I yelled out, “April Fool’s!” when she came out of the bathroom with a disgusted look on her face.

For her part, Candice had not been a perfect angel. She seemed particularly proud of setting a loud and raunchy porno video to automatically open when I got my laptop out to take notes in an economics class. I was thankful that I had a pair of headphones plugged in when I opened the computer. I had already made the mistake of having a loud K-pop song queued from studying the night before once in the same class; ever since, I was convinced it would happen again anytime I opened my laptop in that classroom. My cautious approach did not stop a storm of snickering from the students sitting behind me or the nice tomato red color I turned. That was when I noticed her looking through the glass window on the classroom door and mouthing ‘April Fool’s’ back at me.

I want you to understand that she was not merely an innocent victim of my chicanery; she was a diabolic schemer in her own right. Candice got what she deserved when I pulled off the greatest prank of the day. How was I to know that my then-boyfriend and a gaggle of teammates would show up when she was in the shower? Dear reader, I had no intention of my prank involving my brother in the hilarity.

Don’t get me wrong, I am now glad it happened how it did. Without my intervention, Luke would have never made a move. He had the biggest crush on my best friend since high school. I will never know how an objectively good-looking guy who was intelligent and confident in the classroom or on the diamond was shy around the ladies. Maybe we couldn’t entirely escape the social awkwardness we inherited from our parents. My unintentional push finally broke the barrier between them.

The worst part of all the social awkwardness and sexual tension between the two was that I had to hear about it from both sides. Candice was just as head over heels in love with Luke as he was; she was just too inside her own head about it. I tried to play mediator and get them together, but I had been unsuccessful in my attempts until two years ago, and that was unintentional. My prank would make a great story someday denizli escort when they were wed.

I am trying to clarify that I did not deserve what happened when I dove off the high dive today. Yes, I earned some payback, but not like this, not in front of the entire swim team. My prank had a happy ending; that should earn me some mercy, right?

We called our own practice after our terrible showing yesterday when the pool closed on Friday night. It was Matt’s idea, but I thought it sounded great. Typically, we would be out partying, like average college students, but we were determined not to have a similar showing on Sunday. Our coaches liked to give us a day off after the meets, win or lose. But none of us thought we deserved it. As a captain, I helped critique and motivate the other girls. Of course, I had my suit on but waited to do my diving until the rest of the squad had their fill.

I walked the strip of patio between the diving area and the lap section of the pool, yelling out encouragement and giving suggestions to the other divers. I couldn’t help looking over at our swim team’s tall, muscular, perpetually tanned captain, Matt. He was a Junior with a long, powerful torso and lean, strong legs. I am not kidding you, reader; he looked like a superhero from one of those popular movies with his washboard abs. The tiny shorts that the guys wore made it clear that he also had other physical endowments that could be fun. Matt and I had a flirtatious and taunting relationship. It had never gone anywhere, but how I wished it had.

I tell you all of this to set the stage for my dive at the end of the evening. The pool was closed for all but the swim team, but it was far from empty. My mind was set on perfecting the dive I almost tried last night. It was a far more technical than anything I had ever landed in competition, but I had some success with it in practice. As I jumped off the high platform and started my rotations, I don’t know how I made her out as everything in my perception twisted and turned. My mind was etched with the image of Candice as she snuck into the pool area. I knew I was in trouble, and there was nothing I could do about it now. Whatever she had planned was already in motion.

Candice — Reflecting on that same time

Before you listen to my perfect friend and all her excuses for two years ago, I think you should know my side of things. Yes, both of us were to blame for the escalation of the prank war, but I will tell you that she started the whole thing. If she hadn’t pushed my chair away as I sat down, causing me to fall on my ass in front of all our track teammates all those years ago, none of this would have ever happened. I play to win at anything I do, so I would make sure she tapped out first if it was a prank war against my best friend. All she had to do was acknowledge me as the unquestioned winner, and it would be over.

She probably let her guard down a little after last year, but a car filled to the brim with biodegradable packing peanuts was not on the same level as what she had done. Having a friend whose family owned a packing store came in handy at the time. Seeing her get reminded of that prank every time the defroster was turned on, and flecks of cornstarch dusted the dark interior was nice, but that did not measure up to what she had done. I just hadn’t been able to develop an adequate idea last year.

I didn’t plan for her to be diving in front of both the men’s and women’s teams when my prank landed. The day after a meet, they always had light, unofficial practice with just the other girls on the dive team and no coaches. My joke should have just been with a small group of girls that already knew her well. Then again, Leia never planned for her joke to involve the entire baseball team two years ago. Maybe this was more of an appropriate recompense for that.

I should really go over what happened back then; I am sure she tried to explain it away or plead innocence to you. Yes, it was how Luke and I finally got together, and for that, I would be forever grateful, but that does not excuse her behavior. If I let her get away with it, she would win, and I can’t have that.

Her prank landed so hard due to a perfect storm of circumstances. We lived in a rental house with a couple of other girls; it was a four-bedroom, three-bath. One of the older girls had occupied the bathroom closest to my room getting ready for a date, and the shower was broken in the other nearby. Maintenance always seemed to be a little slow repairing things in the rental. After my workout, I put on my robe and walked to the open working shower across the house. I probably was hoping that Leia had gotten her tricks out of the way in the morning. I should have known better.

I will admit, my love of long, hot soapy showers probably left me vulnerable. Especially since I tended to blast hip hop while I showered. Sometime during my fifteen minutes to myself, a certain someone snuck in and extracted my towel and robe. That düzce escort little weasel had already emptied the linen closet and under the sink earlier, and I did not notice. After my shower, my cell phone was the only thing I had to cover up with. Reader, I know I can hear you saying, ‘what about a shower curtain?’ The shower had sliding glass doors, not a shower curtain.

That should have been a paltry joke. How embarrassed could I have been to walk by my roommates in my altogether? I didn’t plan on the baseball team hanging out in the living room and kitchen when I made my flight to my room and safety. After that, they all knew I was not a natural blonde and that I just had a landing strip of brunette over my va-jay-jay. More than that, the bitch had locked all the doors to the bedrooms. I was in a panic when the bathroom door opened, and out stepped my crush. In my haste, I ran smack into him. Believe me, that was not how I expected him to feel me up the first time. It wasn’t his fault; his hands just happened to be at the perfect height as he left the bathroom.

It took him a moment to shake off the stupor as he was just as surprised as I was. He apologized profusely, then pulled off his shirt without taking a moment to think and handed it to me. It was my turn to stare at his perfect upper body. He was tanned and muscled everywhere I laid my eyes. How many other guys would give you the literal shirt off their back? He also ignored the whoops and hollers coming from the front room and only concentrated on helping me. Luke then went right to work jimmying open the lock to my room. I was able to get to safety in no time.

Luke deserved a reward for helping me out and not just leering and hooting with the rest of the team. I yanked him into my room with me to thank him appropriately. A kiss seemed to be just what his chivalrous behavior demanded. Once our lips met, me on my tiptoes to reach his tall, goatee adorned face, a dam burst. I had been lusting after him for almost as long as I had noticed boys. He was the perfect, tall, lean, robust specimen.

One kiss merged into another; pent-up passion exploded like a spring under too much tension. Within moments, I was on top of him on my bed. We may have spent twenty minutes making out, oblivious to the impromptu party that was raging in my house. When a knock came on my door a little later, I tried to ignore it, but it was insistent.

“Candice?” Leia’s voice came through the door. “I know you’re angry. Don’t hide in your room all night, please?” Her voice was sincere and pleading. I left Luke sprawled on my bed and went over to crack open the door, still just wearing his long T-shirt like a dress.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed…” I started to say.

“I had no idea that Brianna invited over the whole damn team. I know I went too far; I’m sorry.” She hastily interrupted me.

“I am just going to have to get you back later.” She was right, I was pissed, but something else had me distracted.

“April Fool’s?” Leia said with hesitation. It had to be invoked even when something went wrong. Over the years, we have developed a lot of strange rituals that need to be followed, reader.

“There will be a reckoning.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “This isn’t over.” I meant it; there was no way I would ever concede defeat, not to Leia.

“I know, and I deserve it, but don’t hide in here all night. There’s a party going on. Steve brought your favorite hard seltzer.” She tried to tempt me from my solitude. Steve was the team’s shortstop and not a bad-looking fella. He had been pursuing me for a little while. We had hooked up a couple of times, but there was nothing there other than fun. I should have already let him down easy, but I liked the attention.

“I am not hiding.” I declared boldly. “Your brother is about to get very lucky.”

“Luke’s here? I thought he went home to study.” She stared at me incredulously like my declaration was in jest.

“This is his shirt. He rescued me from your little joke.” I said without a shred of mirth. I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did next, but I shed my shirt without closing the small gap in the door. I held it up to Leia like she would instantly know whose it was just by looking at it. The fact that I had been grinding on Luke’s big cock while we made out probably had a hand in my return to nudity. “He should be getting a condom out of the top drawer of my nightstand right now.” My now fiancé took the hint; I could hear the opening of the drawer and the tearing into packaging.

“Is this your form of an April Fool’s joke?” Leia fidgeted, but her brilliant blue eyes never left my own.

“No, you’ll find my joke soon enough,” I said thoughtfully, even though the porn on her laptop was the biggest thing I had planned that day. She didn’t need to know that; let her be a little jumpy all night. “I would open the door and prove it to you, but Luke is only wearing a condom.”

“April Fool’s?” She questioned. Again, I don’t know what came over me, but I stepped back and yanked the door open. Leia’s eyes bugged out, and she looked away quickly, turning the brightest shade of red. “Holy shit! Finally, you two!” She looked shocked, disgusted, and happy at the same time. My best friend knew I had been pining for her brother for far too long.

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

This not a fictional story but i thought people would find it interesting especially if you are a man and have considered getting a brazilian waxing.

The idea getting a Brazilian waxing came to me after I had tried shaving my balls. It was not a real problem, but the results were less than satisfactory. Stubble and ingrown hairs made the whole experience far less positive than I imagined.

Since I do a lot of CBT play with others, I found that shaved balls were easier to deal with, especially when using any kind of silicone rings or stretchers. They had a bad habit of tangling with hairs and causing unanticipated pains. I much prefer to be in control of the pain I am inflicting on others and was not a fan of surprise “bad ouches”. Since I often like to do self inflicted CBT both to test techniques and just for my own enjoyment, smooth balls seemed to be a good idea.

I did a bit of research into various waxing establishments and found a few who specialized in “Manzilian” waxes. I checked for online reviews and went with the place that got the best ratings. That was somewhat assuring, but I was still nervous about the actual procedure. I am not stranger to pain and rather enjoy it in the right circumstances, but being tortured by an esthetician was not on my bucket list.

The day of the appointment, I showered and did a scrupulous cleansing of both my genitalia and my anus, since the waxing covered both the pubic area and the cleft of my buttocks. I made the mistake of watching a couple of videos as guys had the procedure done and I unfortunately found the ones where they reacted with lots of exclamations and whining.

I vowed to be stoic, and headed for the waxing parlor.

The bursa escort desk checked me in and reconfirmed I wanted a “modified Brazilian” which was their term for the Manzilian waxing. Soon after I sat down and filled out the forms that were required, a charming woman appeared and took me to one of the Cerology rooms. Waxing professionals are called Cerologists in this business.

Once there, she told me to undress fully from the waist down and get up on the massage table on my back. She gave me a flimsy paper drape to cover myself which in hindsight seemed ridiculous, since she would be removing it to do her job, but I played along figuring it was for my dignity or what would be left of it.

When I was positioned she came back into the room and moved a stand holding the hot wax and instruments she would use. She began chatting about what to expect and then after donning gloves promptly took hold of my cock. That took me by surprise, since I didn’t know hair grew on my penis, but apparently it did. Diving right into the most intimate part of the procedure apparently was a good way to break the ice, and I will admit that the first few applications of wax pretty much ended any arousal I might have felt. The wax was hot, but not intolerably so and as she ripped the wax off, I definitely understood that there was hair on my dick!

She continued chatting and working her way around my cock until it was hairless and smooth. Then she moved on to my inner thighs. I guess going right to my balls would have been a bit too much pain in one dose, but the crease of my thighs was only marginally easier. To reach everything she had me spread my legs and çanakkale escort put them in a figure 4 as she worked her was into my crotch.

Once the first side was done we reversed the position and she did the other side. By this time my endorphins had kicked in and I was not really bothered by the pain. My libido had also kicked in and my cock began getting engorged. I could feel it laying heavily against my thigh. She deftly moved it out of the way and continued.

Moving to my pubic arch she carefully painted the hot wax above my now hairless cock. As she pulled each strip off, I felt my dick getting harder and harder. She didn’t mention anything, so I assume she had seen this before, but for me it was embarrassing and yet a bit exciting.

Now the moments of truth had arrived. She lifted my balls and examined them closely. She smeared the first application of wax on my scrotum and I flinched. She asked, “is that too hot?”. I replied, no it was fine, in fact it felt good. She continued applying wax and manipulating my balls. My cock was now at full mast.

By the time she finished with the last strip on my balls I suspect my dick was leaking a little. I tried concentrating on everything un-sexy I could think of. It didn’t help. When you are a kinky twist like me, sometimes unsexy things can really seem exciting. Still I continued to try to will my erection to disappear. It worked just a little. The misbehaving cock became a little less rigid, that is until she got to the skin below my nuts. She had me spread my legs wider so she had access. It felt warm and exciting, even when she ripped the hairs out.

Finally it was time for me to turn over. çankırı escort My ass was her next target. She waxed the upper part of my crack with ease and then had me spread my legs. It was time to do my ass-crack. Luckily my cock was pointed downward into the paper-covered table. The warm wax felt great on the sides of my crack, even if the removal was a bit painful. I though she was finished, but she said there was one last place to get to.

I spread my legs further and pushed up off the table slightly, presenting my hole to her ministrations. The last application of wax went directly on my anus and it made my dick jerk and drip on the paper covering of the table. As she ripped the last wax off, it took all my concentration not to have an orgasm right then and there.her last act was using a tweezers to get the last few stray hairs off.

When she finished she rubbed some moisturizing oil into the skin of my ass before asking me to turn over again. My dick was still mostly erect as she massaged moisturizer into my pubic region and over my balls and finally my cock. If she had taken much longer I would have ejaculated and that would have been bad form in my opinion.

When she was done, she told me to have a look in the mirror beside the table. My cock, balls and whole pubic area was hair-free and a little reddened. She said that would go away in a day or two. Satisfied that I was smooth as promised, she left me to get dressed and told me she would meet me at the front desk.

I stood and began redressing, squeezing my semi-erect cock back into my briefs. After dressing I went to the front desk to settle up accounts. I left her a nice tip and scheduled my next appointment for four weeks later.

Overall it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be, and when I got home I re-examined my new smooth cock and balls. My erection returned and I used some of the moisturizer to lubricate a nice sensuous stroke session. I have become a fan of the Manzilian waxing.

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

You arrive at the bar at 9 PM, as instructed. The joint is dismal, with only a few cars parked out front. This both relieves and disappoints you somehow.

Upon entering, you find he has already arrived, sitting in an intimate booth near the back. He spots you immediately, rising from his seat, but does not come over to greet you. You find this odd, but smile and try to ignore it. You strut over to him, flipping your hair back over your shoulders, attempting to exude as much confidence as you possibly can.

“Hel-” you begin to say, but before you can even make out half the word, he cuts you off.

“Sit.” His eyes tell you not to disobey. You begin to sit across from him, your back facing the patrons seated at the bar. You knew what you were there for, but you assumed the evening would begin with at least a little awkward small talk or something. “No, no. Right here.” He motions to the side he was just sitting in, and you do as you’re told, timidly shuffling into the booth. He follows, careful not to brush against you as he sits.

“You look…nice,” he says, almost disdainfully, as his eyes scan bayburt escort your ensemble.

You wish you would have worn something else, something sexier. You almost subconsciously cross your legs underneath your knee-length, loose, almost child-like skirt. “Thank you,” you choke out.

“So, I’m aware that this is the first time you’ve ever done anything like this,” he continues. You nod uneasily. “But you understand the process, I’m sure. You will do anything and everything I tell you to, no questions. No excuses.” You nod again, slower this time. “You do, however, always hold the right to say no. I cannot take that away from you. Just know that if you decide to take that avenue, I will have to put an end to the evening. I’m not here for small talk.”

“I understand,” you say, glad to know that it’s never too late to back out.

“But you know,” he says, his eyes almost devilish above his glass, “from what you’ve said, I don’t think you’ll be wanting to leave.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat, a mixture of excitement and fear brewing within you, trying to bilecik escort rack your brain for all of the bits of information you shared with this man online over the past few weeks. “So, what can I get you to drink?”

You snap out of the trance you were lodged in as his words bring you back to the present. “Um…Vodka cranberry is fine.” You force an awkward smile.

“Vodka cranberry it is. But first…” he digs into his jacket pocket, resurfacing with a small plug. Your heart skips a beat when you see it. He leans in close, placing the plug in your hand and whispering, “This had better be in your ass by the time I return, and I do not want you leaving this booth. I will be watching.” With that, he gets up and walks over to the bar.

You’re left staring blankly after him, dumbstruck. It takes you a minute or two to realize the reality of the situation you’ve put yourself in. At this point, he has already reached the bar, and was chatting to another man as he awaited the bartender’s attention, eyes never leaving your booth. He subtly taps his wrist, hurrying you bingöl escort along and snapping you out of your bewildered state.

You glance around the bar: no eyes on you. You hesitantly lower your hands under the table, pulling up your skirt. Sliding down in your seat just enough to give yourself access, you pull aside the string of your thong. Spreading your legs to provide an easier target, you take the butt plug and ease it into your hole, wincing. As you slide it in, you see his eyes locked on your body, a sneer playing on his lips. You look away.

As you drop your thong back between your ass cheeks, the pressure the plug forces on your asshole deepens just a bit. That pressure is amplified even more as you slide back up into a normal sitting position, however, and you can’t help but grimace at the discomfort.

“Good girl.” He has returned, drinks in hand, a proud smile across his face. You feel your cheeks warm a bit at the words of appraisal, and you look away. “No, no. I’m proud. That must not have been easy for your very first act of exhibitionism. But you must know, it only gets harder from here.” The kind words make you smile, but the realization that the evening has only just begun elicits a sickening pit in the bottom of your stomach.

–

Author’s Note: I was quite interested in trying my hand at this type of writing. Just a short preview. Will be adding more soon.

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 needed to give Matt and crew a little rest. I hope that’s okay with the “Shooting Matt” folks.

There’s only straight sex in this story. I wanted to make sure I could still write erotic straight sex. If I’ve failed at that, please let me know how I can do better. That’s how I learn.

The sex is straight but a little out there, or so I hope. Sno-balling, voyeur, you get the idea.

Thanks to LarryInSeattle.

Enjoy.

==========

Thank god it was my wife who noticed it first. If it had been me, I’m not sure I’d have said anything. Primarily, because I’d be afraid she’d think I was a total perv. I would’ve wanted to say something but freely admit I might have been too chicken shit to have done it. So, as I said, thank god, Chrissy heard them first.

“Oh, my god,” she gasped. “Do you hear that?”

We live in an area that realtors refer to as “transitional”. Meaning, folks like Chrissy and I are gradually forcing the working poor to find somewhere else to live. No, mom, we’re not ‘yuppies’. That was your generation. We’re millennials. We’re totally not hipsters. If I put my hair into a bun it’s because it’s for convenience, not because I’m a hipster. Plus, I can’t lie; I fucking look hot with long hair.

I get it. Saying shit like that makes me sound like a totally self-centered douche. I’m not. So, sorry – not sorry.

TBH, I’d been phubbing her. We’ve not been married long but I knew enough to take a sec to make sure she hadn’t tumble to the fact I’d totally flaked on the conversing and was lost in a Reddit feed on whether the latest craft brewery to open was perf or a total ass-up. She’d been spilling tea on a co-worker’s failure to do more than produce greenhouse gases and I could not get into it. So, when she let up and asked if I’d heard that, I was smart. I listened.

We live on the top floor of a three-family home. Super common style in Hartford. We bought the place with the money our parents would’ve burned on the wedding. We covered the mortgage with rent from the lower two units. A third story walkup brings in the fewest Benjamins, so we took it.

These three-family houses are jammed tight. On one side, there’s just enough room for a driveway. In ours, that side was the side the living room and kitchen were on. On the bedroom side, our building was only three feet from the other building. I could, I shit you not, lean out of our bedroom window and touch the other building. The whole block had been built in pairs, except for the houses at either end of the block. Each pair was enclosed by driveways. Our building was the mirror image of the building next door. It’s like this: driveway- building-building-driveway. Cool? As stated, they’re mirror images. I guess bedroom facing bedroom was felt to be better than bedroom facing living room. Maybe humans fucked less back then.

Any fuck, our bedroom is three feet away from our neighbor’s. These houses are old, no A/C, at least not the kind everyone is used to in the modern era. There’s a window unit in the other window but it wasn’t hot enough yet to waste greenbacks on A/C that are better off stashed away for early retirement. The window beside the bed is open. It’s not hot enough for A/C but hot enough you’ll sweat your balls off without a window open or a fan.

So, was the neighbor’s. Window, open, that is.

I hear it, alright. Once, Chrissy’s yak yak shuts off, hearing was totally a no sweat proposition. Someone’s little red corvette is being rogered in a most righteous fashion. There’s a woman’s soft “oh, oh, oh”, harmonizing with a deeper, grunting, “uh, uh, uh”, the rhythmic squeak of a bed frame and the banging of said bed frame against the wall provides a nice contrapuntal bass line.

It’s fucking hot, sex-wise not thermometer-wise, and within a dozen heartbeats I’m sporting wood. I’m always fucking horny. Horny for Chrissy, horny for the sight of a nipple peeking through a tight shirt (fuck bras, just fuck them, the only good thing about them is their fun to take off, fun to trap your girl’s titties in but mostly, fuck bras), horny for the amazing curve of a woman’s ass. Horny. Fuck, dude. I’m twenty-eight, making a bit of coin, beautiful smokin’ hot wife. I’m horny. If the rest of the world was as horny as I am there be a fuck ton less blowing up of shit, except, of course, the blowing of cocks and cunts.

So, any fuck, my cock goes from its baseline state of one-quarter to one-third hard to full-scale, rock hard, glorious tumescence. I’m prouder of my dick than I am my hair. I mean, I’m not a dick snob or anything, I just think it’s a really fucking nice dick. I don’t mean to give the impression I send a lot of time judging dicks; I don’t. I’m not into dudes. I’m totally cool with dudes into dudes, it’s not that, it’s just dick, other than my own, just doesn’t interest me.

The idea of sucking a dick doesn’t gag me. I fucking hate it when dudes go on and on about how fucking gross sucking a dick must be. Fuck you, bro. If it’s so fucking gross bitlis escort how can I ask the smokin’ hot chick lying beside me to gooble my pole? I got zero desire to smoke a pole but the simple idea of it doesn’t leave me weak in the knees with disgust.

WTF? Focus, asshole. Focus. I was bragging about my dick. No, it’s not nine inches or ten inches or any other bullshit like that. If I pull really fucking hard, I can just brush the seven-inch line on the ruler. And that, mother fuckers, is above average. Look it up. The largest average erect dick was, stereotypes have a grain of truth, been found in the Congo, and that was just a little over seven inches. In the US, the upper range on average boner size is 5 and 3/4 — inches. So, all you lying bullshit artist, posting about your eight and nine-inch dicks, fucking spare us already.

Back to me.

TBH, if I forgo pulling until I’m red in the face, I have a six-and-a-half-incher. It looks bigger. I’m trim to the point of almost too skinny. On the plus side, Chrissy fuckin’ loses it when I shake my hips and my jeans fall off. I keep the pubes tamed. That helps. I don’t shave, just trim, except the base of the shaft. Back when we still used rubbers, I learned to keep the hair off the shaft and pubes cropped short. Yanking out your pubes when you yank off a rubber fucking sucks. Any fuck, thin build and trimmed pubes makes my dick look bigger and hotter.

I leak like a farmhouse faucet. That helps. My cock is already drooling, the head glistening under its hood.

My parents were hippies; not really, they missed the sixties but they were or rather are, wannabe hippies. They didn’t have me cut, thank god. (I don’t believe in him so I don’t capitalize him.) It may turn some chicks off but the ones that don’t run and learn how to take advantage, holy shit, I mean sweet Jesus. (I don’t think he was god but I do think he existed, in case you were wondering.) The first time Chrissy stuck her tongue under my foreskin, I fuckin’ immediately nutted in her mouth. She was cool with it. It was the first time she’d blown me, so I was freakin’ out. Not cool to nut in your girl’s mouth until you’ve gotten the ‘cleared for a landing’ message.

She was cool. I freaked out more when she crawled up my chest and planted her mouth over mine. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening. I swallowed some but most of it went down my chin and over my neck. She’d shaken her head sadly.

“Goose, gander, man up,” was all she’d said before wiping the cum off my chin with her finger and sticking it in my mouth.

That freaked me out more than the unsanctioned nutting in her mouth had. She’s so smokin’ and the things she can do with her mouth are on some other higher fucking plane of existence, so I swallow my pride and went with it. Hey, that’s fucking funny — swallowed my pride. Totally unintentional but hilarious don’t ya think?

Judge away, mother fuckers, judge if you must. Yup, my girlfriend, wife (the fact she’s my wife now still wasn’t stuck), makes me eat my own cum after she sucks my dick. If I’d let her blow you, you’d do the same, so fuck the fuck off.

Now, all that shit zips through my head faster than the speed of light — fuck you, Einstein — I’m not buying your bullshit limitations — JK, Einstein is, well fuck, dude, Einstein — zipped through my brain really fucking fast, much faster than it takes to tell it.

As I’m thinking all this shit, my hand gropes between her legs. I got a great dick but Chrissy, fuck bro, her cunt makes my dick look sad. I mean it’s apple and oranges. I get that shit. I’m just sayin’ if you compare my dick to an ideal dick and her cunt to an ideal cunt, her cunt is way the fuck closer to ideal than my dick. Capiche? I may not pay much attention to dicks but, not to brag, but with my hair, tight body, and nice dick, I have more than a nodding acquaintance with pussy. Nodding? Sort of like the way your head moves when you’re dining on pussy? A pun? Fuck it.

I’ve seen a reasonable number of pussies and Chrissy’s is, like her blow jobs, on another fucking plane. I know you think I’m just some numb nuts in love with a chick. I mean a pussy is a pussy is a pussy . But you’re wrong. Yeah, there’s a clit and a labia majora and labia minora and an introitus. I’m a fucking doctor, seriously, I know the anatomy. It’s not just anatomy.

Chrissy’s cunt is perfection. It encompasses perfect symmetry, perfect proportions, perfect coloring, perfect texture, perfect scent. I have to meditate before I dare trim her bush. The fucking pressure is unbelievable. It’s like fucking trying to do the Mona Lisa’s eye shadow. Pretty much all you can do is fuck it up. Fuck. Plus, the way her fingers play in my hair and the way her pussy grows a duskier red and clear nectar starts to run over her perineum — her taint, if you insist — is pretty fucking distracting. But if I didn’t have a rock steady hand, I wouldn’t be a neurosurgery resident would I?

She bolu escort indulges my childish whims. At the moment, she has a very arty heart-shaped patch of soft black hair. No razor burn, that would be fucking blasphemy. I get my post-trim, post-waxing revenge for the way her cunt distracts me from my work, by taking my sweet time massaging oil into the soft skin of her pubis and pudendum. I was scared shitless the first time she asked me to wax her. I’ve cut open people’s skulls, well, helped cut open people skulls. I’ve fucked around insider their brain, yet I was a quivering, sweaty mess at the thought of hurting her with wax.

I fell back into med school mode. I read everything on Google and watch a zillion videos on waxing before I touched her perfect pussy. I tell you, no shit, that pussy is straight out of Plato’s cave, it ain’t no reflection of reality; it is reality, in the flesh and she’s trusting me with it. That’s some fucking pressure, dude.

I didn’t hurt her, no more than waxing ever hurts. Her fingers kept playing with my hair, and her pussy kept getting wetter and wetter and my dick kept getting harder and harder but somehow I grew more and more relaxed. I was in the groove. I was fucking Michael Jordan, flying through the air, oblivious to everything but the feel of her skin, her smell and the need to accept her gift with nothing less than utter reverence. I was still in the groove, we both were, when we fucked afterward.

Silly? Maybe, but you haven’t seen Chrissy’s pussy either, so fuck the fuck off.

I know I sound totally obsessed. I wish you could see. A picture wouldn’t be worth a thousand words, more like a thousand million words. Maybe not, photos, even great ones, aren’t real and her cunt is more than use the random reflected photons a camera would capture. I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Any fuck, when I say I ‘groped’ between her legs, I don’t mean I shoved my hand between her legs like some high school football meathead trying to get to third base for the first time. Groped is really the wrong word. My hand approached her cunt on figurative hands and knees, head bowed, seeking an audience with a goddess. My intention had been to make sure she was wet, then go down on her, slack my thirst at her wellspring of delight, if that’s not too over the top for you.

She shifts her hips, granting my petition. I stroke the velvet softness of her pussy lips. I carefully push a fingertip between her pussy lips. I’m not worried about hangnails — I work with my fingers. The nails are short, the skin soft. I won’t scratch her. She’s already wet.

I moan. I can’t help it. I am so completely lost and in awe of this woman. The best part? That doesn’t scare me. I totally trust that she won’t use that against me. I can’t really fucking believe she chose my ass over, like, every other fucker, male and female, in the world but I trust her with my heart, with my soul, which I also don’t believe in but that I’d be happy to cede to her.

I curl my finger, press against the front wall of her pussy. She’s quiet but I feel the muscle in her thigh tense. That’s the spot. I pretty much have the location etched in my brain and muscle memory but the confirmation is always welcome.

I rub my nose in the hair, behind her ear.

“I can’t believe how much I fucking adore you,” I whisper in her ear.

“No more than I adore you, baby,” she whispers back. She reaches across her body and lays a finger across my lips. “Sssh, now, baby. Let’s listen.”

I feel my dick twitch. This is a little freaky-deaky. Hmm. I shouldn’t be surprised by Chrissy but I am.

I rarely disagree with her suggestions, so I shush and listen.

Listening to the woman’s voice, I try to picture her in my head. We’ve said hello and waved but that’s it. She’s very pretty. Nice boobs and ass, not as nice as Chrissy’s but before I was pulled into orbit around Chrissy, the neighbor gal would have been extremely interesting. Well, expect for her husband or boyfriend. Not fucking with someone else’s shit is an excellent rule. It’s never worth the drama. Her dude is okay looking, from what I can recall.

Any fuck, the woman is still calling out “oh, oh, oh” with each thrust. I guess I can’t say for sure it’s with each thrust but the oh’s are in sync with the squeak and bang of the bed, so I feel it’s a safe assumption. The deeper voice’s “uh, uh, uh” is more urgent. The banging of the bed a little louder, a little faster.

“Jesus, Kelly, you’re so fucking tight,” the deeper voice grunts.

Kelly, that’s her name. We’ve introduced ourselves but I’d forgotten. After a while it’s no longer cool to ask someone what their name is again. I owe her boyfriend/lover.

“Am I wet enough for you, baby?” the no longer nameless woman next door, pants.

“Fuck, yeah,” still nameless man replies.

She can’t be any wetter than Chrissy. I have two fingers inside her pussy now.

“Fuck me harder, baby. Fuck me harder. burdur escort Please,” we hear Kelly plead. Her voice carries perfectly through our open windows.

“You want it harder, babe? Huh? Do ya?”

“Yeah, Nick,” she whimpers. “Don’t tease me. Fuck me with that big dick of yours. I fucking need your cock, baby. Give me your cock. Fuck me,” she whines.

Kelly and Nick. Kelly and Nick. Kelly and Nick. I repeat it over and over in my head, trying to make it stick. Kelly and Nick.

Nick doesn’t answer. From the sound of it, he simply grants her wish. The sound of flesh smacking into flesh joins the chorus. The bed is squealing and from the sound of the banging, they’ll need to repair the wall. If I was their landlord, I’d be quite concerned about that. But, I’m not their landlord. My only concern is trying to picture in my head what’s happening a few feet from my bedroom window.

Kelly’s “oh’s” are replaced with, “yeah, yeah, that’s right, fuck my pussy, uh-huh, fuck my pussy, baby,” gasped over and over.

“Slap your clit, babe, slap your clit,” Nick pants.

I add that to the tableau I’m constructing in my head. Fuck, this is hot. Jesus. I wish I could say I can hear her fingers slapping her clit but, alas, I cannot. There’s just too much audio already. But I can see it, or imagine it. Her girl-dick is hard, hard and angry and red. Rightly or wrongly, I imagined her hood is pierced. I can see her hips jerk away every time her fingers slap her hard, angry, red lady cock. It’s risky to tamper with perfection but, suddenly, I want Chrissy to pierce her clit hood. I can just about feel it against the tip of my tongue.

Bro, this shit is fucking baller; too baller. I need to taste her pussy, like right now. I start to make my move. Chrissy puts a hand on my chest and mouths, “wait”.

I moan. I can’t fucking help it, dude. I’m in fucking agony. She pins my ass to the mattress with a look. As if our neighbors can hear me moaning. With the racket they’re making, they wouldn’t notice if I suddenly cranked up a lawn mower in our bedroom.

I believe I’ve made it clear I am in awe of my wife. That doesn’t mean I can’t shoot a puhlezze-bitch-get-real look at her when there is a clear and justifiable need to do so. This is one of those times. She fucking ignores me.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Kelly begins to pant.

Nick settles for slower but louder slams into her body, each punctuated with a grunted “fuck”.

She screams or starts to. I envision her biting her own arm to stifle her screams. Nick’s grunts and the sound of body against body continues. Kelly begins a soft, but high-pitched keening, a ‘eee, eee, eee’ that rises and falls.

“Oh, fuck!” Nick yells. There’s a final slap of flesh on flesh and then it grows quiet, no squeaking, no slapping, no banging on the walls, just Nick panting for breath and that “eeeee” sound from Kelly and even that fades. There’s a loud squeak and Nick’s pants sound a little further away. I picture him collapsing on the far side of Kelly, away from the window.

Chrissy swings her legs toward the side of the bed. I grab for her. Where the hell is she going? She’s a fucking goddess but I got a bad, real fucking bad, case of needs here. She shakes me off.

“Come over here,” she demands, pointing toward the side of the bed. I start to move across the bed and she shakes her head. “No, Steve. On the floor, beside the bed.”

I stare at her. What the fucking kind of trippy shit is she up to? She lies back in the bed, puts her feet on the bed rail and scoots her ass to the edge of the mattress. If we had stirrups, I could do a pelvic exam. Her hand goes between her legs. Her fingers disappear into her cunt. She pulls them out and licks them.

“Are you going to eat my pussy or not?”

That shakes me out of my stupor. For a halfway smart guy, I’m pretty fucking slow sometimes. I hop out of bed and make my way around the foot to her side. It’s a small bedroom. There’s barely enough room for me to kneel between the bed and the wall. Before I do, she tosses a pillow on the floor, for my knees. I fucking lover her.

“Push the curtains back,” she tells me after dropping the pillow on the floor. WTF?

“Huh, Chrissy, you sure? Seriously?”

“Push them open,” she demands. “Hurry up,” she insists, fingers once more dipping into her pussy. I drop to my knees. But not before I open the curtains.

“Steve, hurry up. My pussy’s on fire. Eat my pussy.”

Her voice is way louder than it needs to be. Holy fucking shit! She’s not simply going to give them the opportunity; she’s luring them in. And not just to listen. Holy shit!

I want to turn, see if her words have had an effect but I’m more interested in her pussy.

It fucking glows. It glistens. It’s a goddamn thing of beauty.

Her fingers wrap themselves in my hair. “Eat my pussy, please.” The desperation in her voice is real. Fuck, I’m just as desperate. But not yet. I need to feast my eyes before my mouth.

I kiss her knee, the right one, the one with the scar from the tumble she took on her bike. I’d dived off mine racing toward her crumpled body, sure she was dead. It was horrible but when I got to her she was laughing at her stupidity. I push the memory away and kiss her scar again.

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

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Carmen Solo’s voice boomed throughout the catering area.

I turned my gaze away from Carmen and Tiana, curious to see who would start paying attention to our conversation. Those nearby didn’t bother to look in our direction, save for a few. I figured they must have thought Carmen and Tianna were discussing a spot in their upcoming match later in the evening. Sometimes you have to admire how people don’t want spoilers.

“Awe c’mon Carmen. I think it would be a lot of fun!” Tiana giggled.

Carmen looked upon her friend in utter disbelief. Then she looked at me thinking I would take her side. But all Carmen could see on my face was a grin. A big dumb grin. At that point all I could do was think back to the events leading up to this moment and nothing but happy-happy thoughts ran through my mind.

Two days ago; a Monday, was spent with Carmen and I playing “Fuck Day”. And I do mean FUCK DAY. Carmen was quite competitive and the video Tee sent me put her in a mood. After she made me cum, I was ordered to do the same to her. I was thankful Tiana’s vid already got Carmen revved up for the task. My lips and tongue assaulted her swollen clit for less than a minute before her thighs clamped onto my head. Her orgasm was quick and fierce. Not wanting to lose momentum I added my fingers into the mix and massaged her g-spot while sucking on her clit. I looked up in time to see Carmen’s eyes roll into the back of her skull. Her legs extended into the air until her next orgasm hit and her bare soles came down and kicked my lower back. I could still feel the slight stickiness of my cum on her feet.

After her second orgasm passed Carmen became the aggressor. She ordered me to lay on my back and open my legs. I did as instructed and she placed herself between them. I didn’t have much time to think as Carmen began sucking on my cock in that amazing mouth of hers. I’ve honestly never been one for blowjobs. Aside from my fetish, I truly enjoy giving a woman pleasure rather than receiving. But the things this woman could do with her lips and tongue were amazing. Carmen blew new life into my flaccid flesh, making me harder than foreign algebra.

She took my entire length down her throat. When her gag reflex hit, I almost lost my mind. Her “throat pussy” massaged my cock in a way I couldn’t describe. But looking into Carmen’s eyes was something else. They were watered and red. She couldn’t breathe. And she wouldn’t stop. She just kept choking on my dick. I couldn’t hold out for much longer and I grabbed handfuls of her hair, just before I was about to cum. That’s when Carmen went into overdrive. Her hands joined in on the action and she massaged my balls while still sucking my soul out of my cock. I came good and hard right down her throat.

“Mmm, protein.” she spoke after spitting out my dick.

Carmen moved up the bed and pinned my arms down with her naked legs. I couldn’t move. She hovered her wet pussy above my face and I lifted my head so I could lick at her sweet flower. She swiveled her hips to avoid my tongue, teasing me so I couldn’t give back to her. She laughed, enjoying the control she had over me.

“If this was a match, the ref would have counted to thirty by now.” Carmen smiled.

Her bragging gave me the opportunity I needed. My legs were free so I moved them off the mattress and hooked Carmen just under her armpits. Flexing my muscles, I pulled Carmen off of my chest and forced her to lay on her upper back. I moved quickly and managed to pin her to the bed, with her lying on her neck and shoulders, her legs and feet dangling and her ass sticking straight up in the air. The rest of her body was resting against mine. She had nowhere to go. Her exposed pussy was perfect for attacking and my fingers entered her from above.

My motions where quick and forceful. I didn’t have the best angle to go for her g-spot but I made up for it another way. My free hand was able to go for her clit and Carmen was moaning loudly from the double assault. I tried keeping it interesting and bit her on her ass cheeks multiple time. Hard enough to leave a mark for sure. I could feel her orgasm approaching, her pussy squeezing my fingers was a good enough sign. But watching her legs and feet shake uncontrollably was the dead giveaway. My teeth sunk into her flesh one more time and I tugged, hard. Carmen howled and I watched an arch of her girl-cum shoot from her flower, within two inches of almost hitting me in the eye.

I didn’t want her to pass out on me, so I eased up on my actions until finally stopping. Carmen looked so beautiful as her fingers and toes tried to claw at anything her imagination was conjuring. Her breasts rose and fell from her heavy breathing. Her eyes told the story of being consumed with pleasure as she looked in all directions, as if trying to make sense of the world around her. I brought her back to reality with a harsh spank on her rear. That caught her attention.

“Ow! Asshole.” Carmen shrieked.

“If you insist!” I replied.

“Oh God, no! Wait!”

I moved myself just a little, ardahan escort still pinning Carmen on her neck and shoulders with her exposed sex in the air. This time my fingers that worked her clit sunk into her pussy and found her g-spot. My other fingers; still coated in her juices, aligned with her puckered rosebud and pushed inward with ease. She screamed my name before her whole body started to shake violently. She was cumming within seconds. I refused to stop and neither did her orgasm. Everything about her radiated in pleasure and I was anxious to keep it going as long as I could. When I finally lightened up on her, Carmen was reduced to a jiggling and mumbling mess. Every part of her twitched and shook. The expressions on her face kept morphing as well. Somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. I almost feared for my life knowing she would get even, eventually.

We continued our depravity for the next couple of hours. We even had to stop long enough to have a lunch break. That was also a contest of wills. Trying eat when distracted is difficult. It’s even worse when you’re horny and your partner wants to keep playing. After the meal we attempted to take a nap but that proved pointless. We were like filthy animals. Blowjobs, footjobs, fingering, eating out, rough sex, butt-fucking, the works. By the time we’d gotten all of that out of our systems, I was convinced I would need a completely new bed.

The evening came to an end with us having a simple homemade dinner, and making sure everything regarding the bed was well cleaned. As much as we wanted one last round of bedroom antics, we knew it was best not to. The following morning; a Tuesday, was going to be busy for us and we needed all the strength we could get back.

Morning arrived as expected and we were in a dire rush. Even though we were smart enough to be packed and ready the night before, things seemed like they were trying to go wrong from the start. The driver for the local Cab company was late to my place, and traffic managed to slow us down getting to the shuttle depot. We were lucky to get there just in time to board our shuttle to the airport. The airport was no better. Going through security took forever. At the pace we were moving we were certain to miss our flight. Again, luck was barely on our side and managed to make it to our terminal just as the plane was being boarded.

The flight was a blessing in disguise. We were able to catch our breath from sprinting the entire morning. A part of me wanted to get a little more sleep while on the plane but having Carmen with me stopped that from happening. We talked through the whole flight. Our conversation shifted from events to prepare for at the show to what we wanted to do after getting set up at the hotel. Carmen even tried to make me squirm in my seat, whispering to me all the things she was going to do to Tiana for that video she emailed me.

When we landed Carmen took the initiative to have an Uber ready to take us to the hotel where everyone was staying. I was happy to see a number of the talent already checking in and wanted to catch up with my new friends. Carmen was aware of this and told me to go have some fun after we entered our room. I was a little hesitant but she planted her foot in my lower back and shoved me out the door. Another way of her telling me it was ok.

Meeting up with the guys meant having to talk about what we did during our weekend. Though most of the men were married or in steady relationships, they seemed highly focused to know what happened with me and Carmen. I found myself lying to them, saying I went home alone and by chance we arrived at the airport at the same time. They knew I was full of shit but didn’t ask any further questions.

Our little group filled in the rest of the day with different wrestlers vlogging our misadventures. It was fun goofing around with each of them in their own ways, to keep their vlogs entertaining. One of the best parts about our line of work is the amount of creativity we put into everything we do, and the freedom to do damn near anything. Well almost anything. Some stuff we have to get approved otherwise it would not get shown on tv.

The day went by faster than expected. Time truly flies when you’re having fun. As night approached, I knew I wanted to regroup with Carmen and the two of us go out to eat somewhere in the city. I tried texting her but she never responded. This had me a little concerned so when the opportunity came up, I was able to break away from the guys and go back to the hotel. There were no replies from Carmen and I figured she must have gone out with her friends. I decided to crash for a bit back at the room and figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of the night.

When I opened the door to our room, I was greeted by something I didn’t expect. Clothing; women’s clothing, was scattered all over the floor. A number of thick, black plastic bags with red labeling were down there too. The labeling read “Love N Stuff”. I could hear movement and slowly crept inward. That’s when I saw them and my artvin escort jaw nearly fell to the floor.

Lying face down on the bed and spread eagle was a very naked Tiana. Her wrists and ankles had cuffs on them with restraints leading under the bed. Kneeling behind Tiana’s ass was Carmen who was mostly naked, aside from the weird BDSM jock-strap looking thing she was wearing. Turning my head, I got a better look and realized it was a strap-on, already buried deep inside Tee’s sex. Also on the bed was a small assortment of erotic clothing and different types of sex toys. I wanted to remain silent and watch but kicked out a small cough while holding my breath. Tiana turned her head and looked me in the eyes. Her watery glare was the only way she could communicate. A ball gag in her mouth stopped her from talking, or making any noises other than moans. Carmen then noticed me and the look on her face was something I will never forget.

“I told you I was going to get even with this slut.” Carmen’s voice rung in my ears.

She was a woman of her word. I got a better look as I approached and noticed red marks across Tee’s rear. They looked like palm prints. My eyes spotted a pink plug with a plastic diamond sticking out of Tiana’s ass. I also noticed the large wet patch under Tiana’s pussy. There was no telling how long they’d been at it but Tiana must have cum a hundred times by now. My cock started to harden and Carmen spotted it instantly.

“You want in on this, love?”

“Shit, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

My clothes were removed faster than a lightning strike. Carmen removed her strap-on. I uncuffed Tee’s wrists and ankles and Carmen assisted in flipping the poor girl onto her back. She had little to no strength left in her body. Carmen continued to fulfil her statement from the morning before and straddle Tiana’s face. I could hear the faint sound of the gag being removed from Tee’s mouth. I positioned myself between her legs and very slowly entered her wet folds. This made the sexy girl snap to attention and her lips and tongue immediately went for Carmen’s pussy.

I couldn’t see what was happening with Carmen’s back obscuring my vision but I imagined her grabbing a handful of Tee’s hair and pulling her head off the mattress, forcing Tiana to eat her pussy with no way to escape. This made my cock harder and I pushed deeply into Tiana’s body. I could hear her moan and noticed Carmen shivering while she rode Tiana’s face. I couldn’t help myself and I grabbed Tiana’s ankles, bringing her soft feet near my mouth. My lips and tongue found her soles and toes. My hips thrusted aggressively into her body and I could feel her pussy muscles fluttering with no control along my shaft. She was cumming, and hard. Carmen must have been cumming too. Her body went stiff then proceeded to tremble almost violently. Finally, she folded and rolled off of Tiana’s face. I almost came inside her when I saw the glistening coat of Carmen’s orgasm all over Tee’s mouth. I had to slow down to keep from rupturing.

“Suck on my toes.” Carmen spoke just above a whisper.

At first, I thought she was talking to me but I saw her moving her body so her foot was right above Tee’s mouth. To my astonishment Tee did as commanded and I watched each of Carmen’s digits go one-by-one into Tiana’s mouth. I stopped moving all together knowing I wasn’t going to last if I moved at all. Tiana seemed to know what she was doing with Carmen’s foot. The expressions on Carmen’s face said plenty.

“That’s enough, Tee. Now move a little up the bed. And you,” Carmen spoke to me “get that dick out of my friend.”

I was hypnotized. My hips moved backwards and my cock slid out of Tiana’s pussy. Carmen moved on the bed and continued to fulfil her earlier comment. Laying in a new position, she wiggled her wet toes playfully against Tee’s nether lips and clit and finally pushed her foot inward. Tiana shoved a hand in her mouth and bit down to keep from screaming out loudly. Carmen made slight kicking motions with her leg and she literally foot fucked Tiana’s now abused pussy.

“Give me that cock, company man.”

Still hypnotized I moved forward and Carmen took my rod into her mouth. I didn’t stand a chance. My body tensed, my balls tightened, and a flood of my cum gushed into Carmen’s mouth. Her eyes went wide as if she didn’t know what to do next. Then she pushed my cock out of her mouth. Yanked her foot from Tiana’s pussy. Spun around in the bed and spit my sperm and her saliva all into Tiana’s hair. What happened next could only be described as something you’d see on the old Jerry Springer show: Tiana flipped out.

The next hour was spent talking through a door. Tiana locked herself in the bathroom, her emotions somewhere between highly upset and royally pissed off. Carmen and me took turns talking to her, trying to calm her down. We were lucky nobody heard all the commotion and phoned the hotel management. We finally got through to her and Tee unlocked the door but only let Carmen inside. I could do nothing so I stepped away to put my bodrum escort clothes back on. While redressing I heard the sound of running water and realized the girls turned the shower on. Carmen cracked the door open and called out to me, asking if I would mind coming back in an hour. I did as requested and took a lonely walk.

An hour later I came back to the room and both Carmen and Tiana were dressed beautifully. The room also looked as if it were cleaned but nobody was going to sleep in that bed that evening. Thankfully the room had two beds. I knew better than to ask what happened while I was gone so I kept my mouth shut. The girls asked me if I was ready to go to dinner. After everything that happened, I definitely had an appetite. Moments later we found a restaurant and enjoyed a rather pleasant meal. Afterwards we returned to the room with Tiana bunking with us. It was nice going to sleep being sandwiched between two of the most beautiful women in the business, if not the whole world.

The following day everyone was at the arena earlier than required. Even though I was under contract, old habits were hard to kick. I found myself helping out building the ring. When that was completed, I also helped out organizing the folding chairs for front row seating. That’s when some of the guys approached me and we had a pseudo contest of doing diving jumps from one of the turnbuckles onto a crash pad in the middle of the ring. This gave me a wild idea and I split from the others to find Grizzly, as we were going to have rematch that night.

Running through catering I came across Carmen and Tiana. The two were discussing their match and what sort of things were being planned for it. I noticed Tee was looking like she was up to no good. Naturally, I asked what was running through her mind. She giggled like she usually did when caught being mischievous, and so she told us exactly what was on her mind.

The day before, when Tee and Carmen visited the sex store, Tee purchased a pair of remote-controlled vibrating orbs. And with that purchase she had an incredibly wild idea. Knowing her and Carmen were scheduled to have a match, Tiana wanted to use those orbs during the match. Not as a means to assault each other or goof around with the fans. Instead, she wanted one inside her pussy, and the other inside Carmen’s. And then there would be me, backstage in command of the remotes. Carmen was right again. Tiana was a freak.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Carmen Solo’s voice boomed throughout the catering area.

“Awe c’mon Carmen. I think it would be a lot of fun!” Tiana giggled.

Carmen looked at her friend, then looked at me. I was grinning. I knew I shouldn’t have been but something between my legs told me Tiana was definitely right. It would be a lot of fun.

“You cannot be seriously agreeing with her.” she slugged me in the arm.

“After last night, I think I can. Besides she’s right.” I leaned in close to her ear “Just imagine you and Tee wrestling with all your heart, pussies leaking all over the ring, and cumming your brains outs in front of over fifteen thousand fans in the crowd and who knows how many millions watching at home. And not a single one of them would know you’re having orgasm after orgasm.”

My words affected her perfectly. She bit her lower lip and let her eyes slightly roll up in her skull. For just a brief moment I thought she already had a toy stuffed between her legs.

“Okay, say I’m in. How in the hell do we pull this off?”

“I knew you’d ask,” answered Tiana “the orbs have a default vibration. However, the remotes have an intensity boost, a strong one. So, when one of us is looking hurt or put in a submission hold, your foot bitch can press the boost buttons. The fans won’t know the difference between looks of pain or pleasure.”

Tiana was right. What she described could simply be summed up as beautiful agony. A strong orgasm face almost looks no different than a face of torture. Maybe this would work after all. Carmen agreed, Tiana hugged her neck, and then sprinted off to go grab her toys. I kissed Carmen on the cheek and told her I needed to find Grizzly for my match as well. We said our goodbyes to each other and prepared for the show ahead.

The first match of the night happened flawlessly. I envied the two wrestlers as they came backstage, remembering what happened the previous week with the disgruntled fan. Grizzly and I were on next. No match just yet. Just promo work. Grizzly went to the ring first, his head covered with a few bandages to make it look like he was still hurt from last Friday. The man worked the mic beautifully. He irritated the fans, dared anyone to fight him again, and then he insulted me for having “a buddy” attack him during our match.

Then I made my way to the ring. A mic in my own hand as well. I called him stupid, informed him I saved him from “my buddy”, questioned if he had brain damage, and then pointed out his still bandaged head. From there I reminded him he wasn’t medically cleared for a match that night but I would gladly finish what “my buddy” tried to do, and I would do it during Friday’s show. Grizzly agreed but only on one stipulation. For it to be a “Bear Country” match. The fans cheered, I agreed, my music started playing and I exited to the back leaving Grizzly alone in the ring. So far, the night was still going as planned.

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

This is a very mild female exhibition fantasy. There is no real sex or bondage or any of that, just a young woman flashing her naked twat for all the world to see… or did she?

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The following warning is probably not needed for this particular story, but I am including it because it does apply to most of my stories.

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was just before eight o’clock on Saturday evening and Sandra Kowalski was all but dragging her husband, David, by his elbow into the central ballroom of the Blue Sky Casino. “We are going to be late,” she said, “and I have to give the welcoming speech.”

She stopped, turned to face him, put her hands on her hips, and asked in a very irritated tone of voice, “Why are you dawdling?”

Grabbing his hands she added, “You normally almost run along in front of me. I’m having to pull you along. It’s like you don’t want to be here.”

“That’s because Idon’t want to be here,” he answered sharply. “I told you I hate high school reunions.”

“But this isn’t your typical high school reunion,” she replied. “How many ten-year class reunions are held at a Las Vegas casino?” Then she smiled and added, “…and at no cost to anyone in the class. All we have to pay for this entire weekend is any booze that we drink.”

“You have never fully explained how the class president managed to arrange that,” he grumbled. Then he stopped once again and asked, “Howdid you pull that off?”

“My excellent negotiating skills,” she replied as she once again pulled him along. “And having a class vice-president who has a high level job here at the casino.”

“I thought Gerry was an aerospace engineer,” David said. “Last I heard he was designing flight simulators for an aircraft company. What in the heck does he do here at a casino?”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight,” Sandra answered brightly. “All of the class officers are sitting together.” She then pointed over to one of the tables at the front of the room and said, “You go sit down. I need to welcome everyone and explain the events of the evening.”

David walked over to the table Sandra had indicated as she walked up to the podium at the front of the room. Her welcoming speech was the standard “so glad you could be here” sort of stuff you’d expect at any class reunion. She then went on to explain that everyone had one hundred dollars worth of complementary chips at their tables for use later in the casino. Tomorrow morning and afternoon were scheduled as free time and tomorrow night there would be a smaller gathering in the penthouse lounge for those who were not going home until Monday. That turned out to be almost all of the class.

“Those of us who are staying Sunday night,” she said as she ended her remarks, “are also going to get a guided tour of the Strip. So everyone meet out front at exactly 6:00 o’clock and we will walk the sidewalks together with our guide before going up to The Blue Sky Penthouse Lounge for a meal and more time together.”

The regular entertainment for the room then began. The show was entitled “Modern Burlesque” and featured everything from several strippers re-enacting famous routines to highly-skilled. modern pole dancers, two of whom danced completely naked. Huge screens on the walls displayed closeups of both dancers’ glistening pussy lips as they spun and gyrated around their poles.

“I can’t even imagine why someone would show off their body like that!” David huffed. His disapproval was obvious in his voice. “Who would ever willingly do something like that?”

Sandra remained silent, but Gerry spoke up. “I’ll bet Sandy would,” he said. “She was quite a tease and exhibitionist in high school. Look at how her eyes are glistening. I’ll bet right now she’s imagining herself up there flashing her snatch to the entire room.”

Again balıkesir escort Sandra didn’t respond. What was she going to say? “Gerry, you are absolutely right.”

That was the truth, but she couldn’t admit that in front of her up-tight husband. Instead she changed the subject. “Gerry,” she began, “Dave was wondering what an aerospace engineer is doing working for a casino in Las Vegas.”

“You’re seeing it,” he said as he pointed to the giant displays. “I am Vice-president of Presentation Electronics. Everything is electronic these days– and it’s not just automatic cameras that follow a dancer’s twat as she swings around a pole. Some of the full routines are animated or have animated backgrounds. We even have some pretty good-sized rooms that are totally gimbaled and powered with hydraulics so that people can feel the motions of whatever is on the screens. We can blast you off into outer space or take you for a tour of any city in the world. If you’re willing to pay for it, we can even put your face on any body in the show when it projects on the big screens.”

“Wow,” said Sandra, “where do you go from there? What’s next?”

“The Strippermobile,” Gerry answered joyfully. “That’s my current big project. It has three different modes. The outer panels of the back can look like an ordinary truck or it can project recordings of a pole dancer or stripper as if they were being seen through windows into the inside of the truck. Or everything can be live with the cameras inside the truck being sent directly to the outside panels.

“The inside of the truck works the same way. It actually is a pole dance stage and the inside wall screens can either show images of pre-recorded scenes or display what is actually outside as if the walls were made of glass.”

He laughed and then said, “Sandy, if you really wanted to, you could do a naked pole dance routine in the middle of Times Square… and never leave the garage.” He leaned in a little closer and continued in a more quiet tone, “Wouldn’t that be an exhibitionist’s ultimate fantasy?”

A quick cough from Dave brought Sandra back to the reality of the room. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, but her eyes were still practically glazed over. For a moment, in her mind, she had been swinging naked around a pole in the middle of Times Square.

“Or,” Gerry continued, “you could flash your stuff all the way up and down the Strip.”

“What’s the purpose of putting that much work and technology in such a vulgar vehicle?” Dave asked. His disapproval showed on his face and in his voice.

“Publicity with self-censorship to stay just inside the law, among other things,” Gerry responded. “The driver can switch from live to video at any time, or switch from a G-rated routine while traveling outside the Strip, to a PG at the edges of the main drag, and then to full X in the center where there shouldn’t be any precious snowflakes to be traumatized. When in the neighborhoods totally outside the downtown area the displays can be also be set to look like a regular painted delivery truck.”

He looked over at Sandra and said, “I’m even setting it up to be a flight simulator ride of sorts. I haven’t sold the hotel and casino on it yet, but I’m sure they would go for it. The Strippermobile Experience would allow a woman to really release her inner slut without having to worry about what cell phone videos might end up on the internet. After all, what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas.”

Gerry turned to look at Dave and smiled. Then he said cheerfully, “Why don’t you and Sandy drop by my labs tomorrow. I could demonstrate the whole setup for you. It’s almost complete. All it needs is a beta test shakedown and it will be ready to roll out on the Strip.”

“It would have to be early afternoon,” Sandra replied. “I have to meet with the penthouse staff for final planning before we tour the Strip.”

“And I am playing golf with several other husbands,” added Dave, “so she would have to come by herself… if she comes at all.”

“Do I detect a note of jealousy?” Gerry said with a chuckle. “Afraid that an old high school flame might get rekindled are we?” He then laughed once again and clinked glasses with Sandra.

In response, David fumed and looked down at the drink he was gripping firmly in his hand. Gerry looked over at Sandra and raised his eyebrows before looking back to Dave and saying, “I assure you that Sandy will be perfectly safe with me. My boyfriend, who couldn’t be with us tonight, works with me in the lab and will be helping run the final tests tomorrow. If everything goes well, Strippermobile 2.0 really is scheduled for its first public run tomorrow night.”

“Dave,” Sandra said, “In case you didn’t catch on, Gerry was never my boyfriend. In high school it was more like he was just one of the girls. He wasn’t officially out of the closet, but everyone knew. So, he isn’t an old flame that you have to worry bartın escort about. He’s more of an really safe old girlfriend. We have always been and will always be just very good friends.”

“OK,” grumped Dave. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“And by stupid,” she explained with a forced smile to the rest of the table, “he means anything that might be fun.”

Turning to look directly at her husband seated next to her she huffed, “Lighten up! This is Vegas. Can’t a girl have a little fun once in a while without you worrying about what the neighbors might think?”

“I tell you what,” Gerry said. “I will meet with you and the event coordinator from The Penthouse at 2:30. Then we can go over to my labs to look at the Strippermobile. You will be back here in plenty of time to do your last minute checks and I will be here in plenty of time to lead the tour of the Strip.”

Sandra was nearly bouncing in her seat like a little girl being offered her favorite ice cream as she said, “That works for me.”

Dave looked more like a kid in a dentist’s waiting room as he muttered, “I’ll be playing golf.” Then he added ominously, “Remember, don’t do anything that might get back home. We do have an image to maintain. And not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

Gerry was about to say something in reply, but at that moment a swarm of waiters and waitresses flooded into the room bringing their meals. They were fast and efficient and within moments everyone was served.

Following dinner, there were the customary speeches and reminiscences, and of course, the stupid prizes for longest married, most kids, who came from farthest away, and all of that. A little before midnight, the party broke up with most of the guests wandering into the casino itself to see if they could parlay their free chips into a windfall fortune. By one am, most had exhausted their supply of chips and were headed up to their rooms.

***

The afternoon meeting with the event coordinator from The Penthouse restaurant was your typical, boring, go-down-the-checklist type of meeting that is a part of setting up gatherings at any hotel or resort. At least it lasted only an hour, so by 3:45, Gerry and Sandra were walking out the front door of the casino.

After his car was brought around, he headed up Las Vegas Boulevard for a couple of blocks and then turned off the Strip and zig-zagged over to West Reno street and a rather nondescript building that looked like it had once been an auto repair shop– it had been.

From the outside, the place looked almost abandoned, but once you stepped in through the security doors, it was bright, clean, and modern. The surprise showed on Sandra’s face as Gerry clicked a remote and lights automatically came on in what was apparently his work area.

“The run-down exterior keeps the tourists away,” he explained. After a short laugh, he pointed to the myriad of cameras hanging from the ceiling and added, “And the electronic security keeps the competition honest.”

“Good afternoon, Ralph,” he said to the nearest camera.

“Good afternoon, Mister Bruger,” echoed from the speakers on the wall. “Please verify,” the voice continued.

“Authorization code Alpha-Seven-Zero-Zero-Six,” he replied. Then leaning close to Sandra he explained, “That means you are a visitor with full rights and I can show you what I am working on.”

“What if you got the code wrong?” she asked.

“The fact that it started with ‘alpha’ means you are a full-access visitor,” he answered with a smile. “And as long as I call him ‘Ralph,’ and the code ends in six everything is fine.”

Looking a little more serious he continued, “But if I had called him ‘Dave’… or ended the code with a nine… or started it with ‘x-ray’… or not given a code at all, one of us might be lying on the ground with a bullet in the leg right now.”

Gerry chuckled at her wide eyes and finished with “This is Vegas. They take their security very seriously here.”

He then clicked his remote once again and a large garage-style door rolled upward to reveal what appeared to be a small moving truck. “And this is why,” he said.

Stepping to one side, he added with a flourish of his arms, “I present to you, the Strippermobile Flight Simulator.”

Another click of his remote and the walls of the truck, which displayed the logo of a furniture company, seemed to suddenly turn transparent, revealing a room with a carpeted floor and ceiling, and a shiny brass pole mounted in the very center of the room. Two leather swivel chairs were mounted on the floor adjacent to the wall which separated the area from the cab of the truck. That wall was also covered in the deep blue carpet.

“How would you like to be the very first person to try the Strippermobile Flight Simulator Experience?” he asked.

“How realistic is it?” she replied.

“You will think we are driving down the Strip,” he answered. “You can even wave batman escort at the people on the sidewalk if you want and they will wave back.”

Sandra remained silent for several moments. Finally she said quietly, “Promise you won’t tell David?”

“I assure you he won’t hear it from me,” Gerry answered.

He then pressed another button on his remote and one side of the truck body raised up like an old-fashioned garage door. “That’s actually a screen on both sides,” he explained. “Someday you will have a choice of almost anywhere, but for now I have it programmed so that from inside it will look like we are driving down the Strip.”

“I wish I could do this for real,” Sandra answered breathlessly. “I would love to flash my body to everyone on the Strip, including our whole class. But David is right. If it ever got back home, it could cause problems for him and his business.”

“Pretend it is real,” Gerry said with a big smile. “And who knows, you might get your wish. Remember, this is Vegas where, sometimes, dreams do come true.”

“I thought that was Disneyland,” Sandra said with a slight laugh.

“Same song, different verse,” Gerry replied.

He then helped Sandra climb up a small set of steps to a platform so that she could enter the back of the truck. As the panel came back down, the three outer walls of the truck appeared to become transparent.

Gerry’s voice came from the speakers, “It would probably be best if you sat down at the beginning until you get used to the movements of the truck. It will feel exactly like we are going out on the road, including the jerks and jostles.”

The sound of a truck starting up startled Sandra, and then the room began to vibrate slightly. She could hear a garage door opening and the truck felt like it began to move. Gerry had been right. It was exactly as if they were pulling out onto the street.

She sat and watched some older buildings with a few houses interspersed go by. Then Gerry’s voice said, “If this were real, the outside of the truck would still be the furniture van. You would be able to see out, but no one could see in.”

After a short pause, he added, “The show area starts in about two blocks, so get ready.”

Sandra stood and grasped the pole. After glancing around for a moment, she kicked off her heels so that they landed under one of the chairs. As she stood holding lightly to the pole, the driver reached the high end of the Strip and started down the boulevard. There were groups of people here and there on the sidewalks but it wasn’t particularly crowded.

Gerry’s voice came over the speakers. It sounded slightly weird, almost like it was echoing… or being amplified to external speakers. “The Blue Sky Casino,” he bellowed out, “presents our amateur stripper of the night… Sandra.”

He paused and said in a more subdued voice, “Remember, you too could ride the Strippermobile either for real or as a flight simulation at the Blue Sky Casino. And for your entertainment, our professional dancers will be appearing regularly here in the Strippermobile and also each evening at the Blue Sky Penthouse Lounge.”

Bump and grind music with a heavy beat began blaring from the speakers. Sandra grabbed the pole and pulled herself up a few feet off the ground. She knew what she was doing because she had been taking pole dancing classes for several years. She told Dave it was “to keep in shape,” but her real reason was an almost obsessive fantasy of someday being able to exhibit her body to an audience.

“I should have worn something easier to take off,” she aloud said to herself.

Gerry answered, “Improvise. It will make it look more real.”

“Oh!” she said. “You can hear me!”

“And see you,” he replied. “You’ve kept your body in very good shape. I still have those pictures of you streaking the homecoming game senior year. Nobody every figured out that was you, but I was the one waiting with the fake trash barrel so you could hide as soon as you got behind the bleachers. The cops chasing you never did figure out where you went.”

Sandra turned slightly red as the memories came back to her.

“And luckily we scored a touchdown just as you took yourself over the top while you were squished down inside there so nobody but me heard you.”

Sandra now turned totally red and stammered, “I didn’t know you heard me.”

Gerry laughed and added, “Sandra,EVERYONE would have heard you if they weren’t cheering so loud.”

“Looks like the memories have gotten you in the mood,” he said. “Your headlights are definitely at high beam and if I’m not wrong, your panties are soaking wet.”

In response, Sandra did a spin split and turned upside down. Her mini skirt fell down toward her waist totally exposing her bright blue panties which were, indeed, a much darker blue in the crotch.

“You might try a knee swing while you get rid of that skirt,” Gerry suggested.

Sandra dropped her left foot to the floor and hooked her right knee around the pole. Then pushing herself with her left foot she began spinning backward around the pole while at the same time unzipping the short skirt. When she grabbed the pole and pulled herself upward once again, the skirt dropped to the floor as she began spinning faster around the pole.

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

Her First Stocking series, chapter 4

It was Saturday afternoon, another scorching hot summer day. I was lying on the couch reading on my phone when she came into the living room.

“Give me some room, Babe.”

I sat up, and she plopped down next to me, snuggling up close.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Can’t a girl just snuggle up to her man?”

Now I knew she had something to say. I put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek softly. She looked at me. Before she could say anything, I pressed my lips to hers, and my tongue licked her warm lips. She opened her mouth, and my tongue slid between her lips, searching for hers. She responded passionately, and we kissed, our tongues swirling around each other until I broke the kiss. I was curious about what she wanted to tell me.

“So, what’s up? I know you want to tell me something,” I said.

“I have been a bad girl,” she said sheepishly.

“How so?”

“Well, last night, when I was getting ready for the party, I received a text message from Mark.”

“Oh!”

“Do you remember how I went back to the table as we were leaving the restaurant and you were about to pay the bill?”

“Yes.”

“I wrote my phone number on a napkin.”

“I saw that, and when your phone pinged twice, I was sure that was what you had done.”

“And you said nothing?”

“What was there to say?”

“Mark asked me if we had planned to go to the restaurant last night.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for the company Christmas party, maybe we would have.”

“Yes, I told him that. I told him I was getting ready for the party. He asked what I was wearing, and I described my dress to him. He asked if I wore stockings, and I told him yes, I did. He asked me about my heels, so I described them to him too. Then he asked me about my underwear, and I told him I only had a G-string on. He told me he liked what I was wearing for the night, and I gave him an erection. I told him I did not believe him. He told me I was a hot, sexy slut and his fantasy. I still told him I did not believe him. He said he would prove it. That was when you called out, saying we had to go.”

“Mmhmm, I remember that.”

“I was typing: ‘I had to go’ when a picture arrived. I finished typing and sent my message, then opened the photo. It was a picture of Mark sitting on a chair; he was only wearing a shirt, and he held his fully erect cock in his hand that pointed upward. My pussy itched as I remembered how delicious his cock had been in my mouth. In his next text, he said it was my turn. I asked what he meant. He just texted one word: ‘photo’. I told him I was dressed and ready to leave. He said he wanted to see how I looked going out. I thought for a second, and not seeing any harm in it, I put the phone on the dressing table and took a quick selfie as I stood in front of the window. He said I was hot and sexy. I closed my phone and joined you.”

“Wow, that’s hot, baby. What happened next?”

“When you walked around the car, I heard my phone ping, but I ignored it. Arriving at the venue, I told you I had to go to the restroom. Well, I really just wanted to read the message, but I did not dare to open it in the lobby while mingling with all the guests.”

“That was a wise thing to do, but you could have opened it while I was driving.”

“I know, but we were going to your company’s Christmas party, and I did not want to distract aksaray escort you. I know how horny you can get.”

“Fair enough.”

“When I was in the restroom, I opened the text message. It was from Jim. He said Mark forwarded my picture to him and that I was a very sexy gal. He was to meet Mark in the restaurant, and he wished I was there too. I told him they had my photo. I turned notifications off and re-joined you.”

She put her hand on my chest, her bare leg over my legs, and turned towards me. Our lips met, and our tongues made love in our kiss. I loved her more than anything else, she was my wife, yet I was fine with our adventures, how the guys lusted for her and wanted her, and how she responded to them. I was happy to share her. She broke the kiss, looked into my eyes, and said: “I love you, Babe.”

“I love you, Baby. Is there more?”

“Yes. I went to the restroom again hoping there was a text from them. There were messages from both of them and a photo from Mark. I opened the photo first. Mark still sat on the chair, but he was slumped against the backrest now. I noticed he was holding my photo, which was on his thigh, and his somewhat deflated cock was resting on my picture. When I zoomed into the picture, I saw that it was covered in his cum that was still dribbling from his cock. He wrote: ‘it was great, but nothing like having the real slut.’ My pussy started to itch.

“Wow, that’s hot!” I exclaimed.

“I opened Jim’s text, which said that they were in the restaurant and discussing how they would make me cum. Their texts turned me on, and I felt my pussy getting moist. I replied to both of them by saying they were very naughty boys, trying to turn on a married pussy. I closed the phone and returned to you, my pussy was on fire, I was really turned on. If their intention was to turn on a married pussy, they had achieved that.”

“I love it, Baby. I love your teasing and flirting.”

“I know you do. You are a horny cuck.”

My hand slid under her shirt. It was really my shirt, she just liked to wear it. She looked hot when she had it on. I groped her naked bum cheek, and in return, she slid her tongue into my mouth, and we kissed for a while.

“What happened later?” I eagerly asked her when the kiss was broken.

“Well, it was difficult to be present at the party from there on. My body tingled, and my mind kept thinking of them. I returned to the restroom once more.”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you kept going to the restroom so often.”

“As soon as I had privacy in one of the cubicles, I checked my phone, and I was not disappointed. I have to admit, I was eager to read their messages. They both replied, both asking for a naughty photo to stir their imaginations. I told them I was at a company function. I couldn’t, and I wasn’t going to do that.”

“That was wise,” I interjected.

“They said that would not stop them from talking about how they wanted to fuck me, fuck my married pussy. How they would spitroast me while you watched. My pussy flushed, and I had to wipe myself clean. I replied, telling them to keep dreaming. I did not wait for their reply, I just rushed back to you.”

“I am getting really horny here,” I said.

She put her hand on my cock and squeezed it through my shorts: “I can feel it.”

“Has anything else happened?”

“It was getting late, and amasya escort people started to leave. I was eager to leave too, I was very horny. You had a bit too much to drink, so I was driving home, but I did not expect you to fall asleep. I needed a good fucking, my pussy was on fire, but when we entered our bedroom, you told me you were out and crawled under the bedsheets in your underwear. I heard your snoring within a few seconds. I kissed your forehead and came to the living room. I got my phone out and, with shaking hands, I checked it for messages.”

“I remember leaving the party and going to bed. Yeah, I guess I overdid the wine a bit.”

“Just a bit! And I was sitting on the couch needing your hard cock,” she pouted.

“Sorry, Baby.”

“I read their messages, and I felt a pang of jealousy. They told me they were going back to Mark’s place with Annie, the waitress, and they were going to fuck her as they had discussed fucking me over their dinner. They told me she was a submissive slut, and when she saw them, she rushed into the back of the restaurant. When she returned, she was wearing high heels, and on closer inspection, it was revealed she did not have underwear on either.”

I was getting really horny by now, and my cock grew considerably in my shorts as she kept squeezing it. I wanted to fuck her, but I wanted to hear the rest of it too.

“I want you, Baby! I am so turned on, but go on and tell me the rest,” I said.

“I replied to them, saying she was a lucky girl, then, in another message, I said I was jealous. This time only Mark replied, saying she was sucking Jim’s cock. She was good at it, he said, and he asked if I was still at the party. I told him no, we were home. You’d had too much to drink, and you fell asleep. He said: ‘Photo.’ This time, I did not hesitate and put the phone on the coffee table. I sat on the couch, hiked my skirt up, and parted my legs. I sent the photo. He said I was hot but could do better.

I removed my G-string and did the same shot. My pussy was soaking wet, anyone could see it in the picture too. He said I was hot but could do better. I removed my dress too and sat in the same position in my heels, stockings, and garter belt. I sent the photo. He said I was a sexy married slut, but I could do better. I squeezed my breast and fingered my pussy. I sent the picture. His reply was: ‘We want to fuck your married pussy, sexy slut.’ I replied: ‘Yes, please.’

I started to rub my clit, I so wanted to cum, I needed to cum. My body craved a hard fucking, an orgasm. He said Annie was sucking his cock and Jim fucked her cunt, but it could have been me. When I read it, I saw myself between them with my mind’s eyes. I came hard, my body was trembling and shaking. I bit my lips to stay quiet.

When I calmed down, I texted that they had just made a horny married slut came hard. ‘We had made two horny sluts came hard,’ he replied. In his next message, he said I could do better. I knew what he wanted, but I said goodnight and slipped beside you.”

I pulled her fully on top of my thighs, making her straddle me, and I kissed her passionately. My fingers found her naked pussy under my shirt, and I rolled her clit for a while. She moaned in our kiss. I slid a finger inside her, finger-fucking her drenched cunt. Her body started to tremble, and I knew she was close. I denied her orgasm by pulling antalya escort my hand away from her pussy.

“Get up and take your shirt off, then help me out of my clothes,” I said.

She did as I told her, then knelt between my legs and grabbed my balls, taking my cock into her mouth. She sucked me hard, her head was bobbing up and down on my hard phallus. She brought me close to an orgasm but pulled her lips off, denying me one too.

Instead, she straddled me and looked into my eyes. I grabbed my cock and rubbed it on her pussy, splitting her folds. She moaned and lifted herself higher. Her folds were rubbing on the tip of my cock, she moved back and forth, her hands on my shoulders, her eyes on mine.

“Do you want me to be a slut for you?” She asked.

“Yes, I do,” I whispered.

“Do you want the guys to fuck my married pussy?”

“Yes, I do.”

“To spitroast your wife?”

“Yes, I do,” I groaned.

“Fuck me, you cuck, fuck your slut hotwife.”

And with that, she lowered herself onto my cock pressing her lips against mine as her tongue entered my mouth. After a short while, she broke the kiss and rode me, her tits bouncing in front of my eyes. As we got close to our orgasm, she stopped, got off me, and ran out of the room.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I yelled after her.

She did not reply, but when she returned, she got on her hands and knees facing the couch and placed her phone against a cushion. I saw the camera app was on.

“Fuck my cunt, cuck,” she said, wiggling her bum at me.

I knelt behind her, lined up my cock with the entry of her vagina and drove my cock deep into her in one motion. She squealed as my cock opened and stretched her tight fuckhole. She rested her head on the couch. I grabbed her hips and pulled most of my cock from her cunt just to drive it into her fuckhole again and again.

“Fuck your slut wife, give it to me!” she yelled at me.

I grunted with every thrust, fucking her fast and hard, slamming my cock into her. The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasures, the smashing of my groin into her firm, round arse cheeks.

“Yes, fuck my cunt, you cuck! I am so close.”

I slapped her arse, which made her squeal. I did it again and again. Her squealing echoed in the room. I saw her body shake and quiver; she was cumming. Somehow she managed to touch the shutter button on her phone, and I heard the countdown timer then it took a picture. I never saw her cum so hard. I kept fucking her hard and fast, not letting up. Her orgasm just kept rolling on and on. I felt my balls tighten. I drove my cock deep into her belly and unloaded all my juices.

“Yes, fill your bitch,” she yelled at the top of her voice.

When both of us calmed down and my cock started to soften, I pulled it out of her pussy. I helped her up, and we sat on the couch, holding each other tight.

“I love you, Baby,” I said. “Whatever adventure we embark on, I will always love you.”

“I love you too, Babe,” she said, and we softly kissed.

She picked up her phone and brought up the photo she had taken. She was looking into the camera; her eyes were glossed over, her mouth was partially open, and her face glowed with the pleasures of her orgasm as it took over her being completely. There was nothing glamorous about her; she had no makeup, and her hair was tousled and untidy, yet she was so beautiful at that moment, beautiful as only a woman at the pinnacle of her orgasm could be. Her face had the aura of uninhibited pleasure and elation. She was beautiful. She cropped the image down mostly to her face, cropping most of me out, and looked at me.

“Should I?” she asked.

“Yes.”

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

Hi everyone, thank you all so much for all the awesome comments on my last story. It makes me happy to see people enjoying my stories and I hope y’all like this short one too. I am always grateful for any feedback and criticism that will help me improve!

*************************

I woke up to a cold breeze as someone opened the tent. Thinking it must have been my tentmate coming back from the toilet, I ignored it, instead just letting myself drift back to the world of dreams. However, before I could fall asleep again, I overheard a female giggle.

I tensed up as my ears strained to hear more. “Are you sure he won’t wake up?” I heard her whisper. I winced. That voice.

“Don’t worry, he’s a heavy sleeper,” my tentmate replied. There was some ruffling, followed by wet smacking sounds. Are they making out? My heart skipped a beat. More soft giggles and moans however confirmed my fears. This late at night, that could only mean one thing. I needed to put a stop to it before things got any worse. Just turn around and pretend to wake up.

However, the thought of entering this situation made me feel queasy. I felt like I was paralyzed. Instead I tried to quickly fall asleep to avoid hearing anymore but I was fully awake now. My heart was beating like crazy. My hands were sweating. There was no escape.

The sounds were getting hectic, telling me that things were getting heated between the two. I almost yelped when a piece of fabric suddenly fell on my head. I couldn’t tell what it was but I knew what it meant.

“I love your tits,” my tentmate groaned quietly, followed by a soft moan from his girl.

Images started popping into my head. Half-naked girl sitting in my tentmate’s lap, her head leaning back as he plays with her boobs. I imagined her face, her lips parted in a quiet moan, her eyes closed. Face of a girl I knew. No! It can’t be her. I forced the images out of my head.

That’s when I noticed the smell coming from the cloth on my head. It was the perfume that has been embedded into my mind ever since the first day I met her. Why her? The voice, the giggles and now the perfume. There was no denying it anymore. Why Beth? Why my best friend? My dream girl?

I knew she was a wild card. Up for all kinds of fun and mischief. A free spirit. But I had never imagined…

I was brought back to reality by the unmistakable sound of a zipper from behind me. My stomach turned when the wet sucking sounds filled the tent. Beth whispered something but her voice was muffled and I couldn’t make out what she said.

Like a flood the images came back to my mind. Pictures of Beth’s gorgeous face, her eyes closed as she sucked a cock in between her lips. Her head was bobbing up and down in his lap as she savoured every last inch.

I bit my lower lip. I knew she wasn’t mine. I just wasn’t her type. We were just friends. However, part of me always wished we afyon escort could be something more. Beth was an amazing woman. The most gorgeous woman I knew. And the thought of her giving a blowjob to someone else, right next to me… It hurt like hell.

And yet… I couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through my body. Everything from her giggles and moans to the images in my head, I felt hornier than ever before. My own dick was rock hard and I had to fight back the urge to touch it.

This strange combination of horror and arousal at the same time, it left me confused. I couldn’t tell if I hated it or loved it. Both?

The slurping sounds from behind me got louder, wetter. She seemed really into it and judging by my tentmate’s groans, she was doing a hell of a good job. It sure does not sound like you just ‘don’t mind’ giving blowjobs as you told me before. You’re loving it right now. I smirked.

“Fuck me,” I heard her gasp all of a sudden. The words echoed through my mind, filling me with dread and excitement at the same time. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what I was really feeling. There was some moving around behind me and I realized I couldn’t handle it anymore.

Keeping my eyes shut, I grumbled and turned around, the cloth on my head sliding down onto the ground.

Anxious silence shrouded the tent.

However, I had no intention of stopping it anymore. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to see more. So I stayed completely still, pretending that I am still fast asleep.

Minutes ticked by and I got worried I might have gone too far and spook them. But then, the silence was finally broken when Beth sharply exhaled.

Cold shivers ran down my spine as the reality of this situation once again dawned on me. She’s going to get fucked now. Right in front of me. However, my mind was now blinded by arousal. I didn’t care how much it hurt anymore. I needed to see it through to the end.

I didn’t dare to open my eyes. Not yet. So, I just listened to the almost inaudible gasps escaping Beth’s lips as my tentmate slowly thrust into her. Imagining her face, contorted in pleasure she was receiving right now, made my dick twitch. Thoughtlessly, I slipped my hand into my boxers.

From time to time their heavy breathing would be cut and instead replaced by wet kissing sounds. Their movements stayed slow and gentle for quite a while. Probably trying their best not to wake me. But eventually, they started to speed up. Beth’s moans became more frequent and louder. One especially erotic cry made me bite my lower lip to stop myself from moaning too.

Afterwards, her sounds muffled down. In my head, Beth was now clutching her hand over her mouth, trying her best to keep herself hushed as the intense feeling started taking over her body. For a while, the sound of his cock ramming into her wet pussy became the most audible.

“Oh aydın escort my… gaaawd,” I heard her utter. Unable to resist anymore, I slowly opened my eyes. The only light being some lamppost somewhere outside, the tent was very dark. It was hard to make out anything. But I could clearly see their silhouette barely 3 feet in front of me.

Even though I’ve been listening in for a while already, it was still hard to believe what I was seeing now. It was hard to tell exactly but I was sure I saw Beth lying with her back on the ground with my tentmate right on top of her.

“Fuck yesss,” Beth cried out, this time unrestrained. I could tell both of her hands were now gripping her partner. I watched her long perfect legs lift into the air and then wrap around his hips. He was fucking her in a faster but steady rhythm now.

“Give it… to me… Harder,” Beth said between her gasps.

I saw my tentmate’s silhouette raise, changing his grip on her. His hands on her shoulders, he started thrusting harder.

“Yesss… Just like… that,” Beth quickly rewarded him with erotic cries. And I was rewarded with the silhouette of her round breasts bouncing up and down into the rhythm of their coupling. However, one of my tentmate’s hands moved from her shoulders, grabbing her boobs instead and so ruining my view.

At this point, I was sure they completely forgot about me, as they let go of all inhibitions. Or did they want me to hear?

“I am close,” she suddenly uttered loudly, further confirming her loss of control, “I am going to cooome,” her breath was fast and irregular.

“Come for me, baby,” my tentmate replied.

Beth let out a loud scream of pleasure. My tentmate toppled on top of her, his lips meeting hers as he changed his pace, his thrusts now slow and deep.

My eyes were wide as I watched my best friend, my dream girl come underneath another man, the sight pushing me over the edge.

Things calmed down for a while. Their coupling stayed slow and intimate. Staying in a tender embrace, locked in a passionate kiss. But it wasn’t over yet. “Your turn,” Beth giggled.

Sudden rapid movement made me quickly close my eyes. I heard a soft thud right next to me and I felt something gently nudge my leg. I almost yelped at the sudden contact but I managed to stay quiet. I could tell they were now right next to me.

“You just stay there and enjoy the ride,” Beth said quietly. Above me? Whatever nudged me previously now started slowly moving. Soft moans once again started filling the tent but this time they were coming from above me.

She’s riding him. It finally clicked. I was way too afraid to open my eyes again but I was sure Beth was now on top. Is that her leg nudging me then? Thrill ran through me at the thought.

Being blind once again, images started popping into my head. Beth’s tits bouncing up and down ağrı escort as she drove my tentmate’s cock into her tight pussy.

“I can tell you’re close,” Beth purred. She was so close now, it sounded almost like she’s talking to me. “Come inside of me,” she said breathlessly.

I could tell her pace was quickening by her leg nudging me more and more. “Oh yesss, baby,” she cried out. “Fill my cunt with your cum.” I could not believe the things I was hearing. I never imagined she would be willing to say something so dirty. It made her even sexier.

I couldn’t help it anymore and slightly opened my eye. Right in front of me laid my tentmate, thankfully his eyes fully concentrated on Beth who was, as I assumed, on top of him. Her head was leaning back. “So gooood,” she gasped.

Her head moved and I quickly shut my eyes again. I heard some movement again and noticed Beth’s leg disappeared. Taking a quick peak, I saw they moved away from me, with Beth on all fours now and my tentmate taking her from behind. His hands were gripping onto her hips tightly as he thrust into her roughly.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” her surprised scream of pleasure echoed through the tent and probably even beyond. My tentmate let out a loud groan of his own and his hips suddenly jerked, ramming his cock all the way in. He just came inside of… Inside of Beth. Giving her last few thrusts, he pulled out and collapsed next to her. Beth quickly joined him on the ground.

For a while, their heavy breathing was the only sound filling the tent. As I calmed down and my arousal slowly dissipated, I started feeling sick. I couldn’t believe what just happened. Part of me was blaming Beth for doing this to me even tho I knew it wasn’t her fault. I should have stepped in and stopped it. I am such a coward.

“That was amazing,” Beth whispered. I felt like my heart was being squeezed. Why does it hurt so much? Should I be happy for my friend?

“It sure was. We should do this again sometime,” my tentmate replied.

God, please not again.

“Yeah,” Beth squeezed my heart even harder.

“Not here though. I am shocked he did not wake up to your screams to be honest.”

“True,” she giggled. “I should go now,” I heard some rummaging around and then Beth uttered the words I was afraid of, “Where’s my shirt?”

So it’s a shirt. Well, it’s right here under my head. What if she notices I am awake when she finds it?

“I dunno, you were the one throwing it.”

“I can’t find it.”

“Just leave it then, I’ll find it in the morning.”

“And go out topless?”

Sounds like a great idea to me.

“It’s late, no one will see you.”

“No, I don’t want him to find it here.”

“Okay, I’ll get my phone.”

“Wait, the light might wake him,” I could hear her voice right above me now.

“I’ll just use the screen light, it’s fine,” I could feel the light turn on through my eyelids.

“Fuck, he’s lying on it,” Beth cursed. There was silence for a while and I wondered if she decided to leave it be. But then I felt her soft hand on my forehead. Suddenly strong urge flooded my mind. And as she gently lifted my head, I opened my eyes.

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

Shortly after my separation from my wife, I moved into an apartment on Chicago’s south side. It was on the second floor and faced a remote vacant lot area. The area was surrounded by trees, making it an ideal place for people to hang out, or on this occasion a guy to wax his car. I rarely pulled my drapes across the expanse of window, because you could not see into my living room, from the ground floor that is unless someone stood in the window.

That brings me to my girlfriend, Dale. She often came over in the evening and brought a bottle of wine and some snack items. Dale was in her twenties and pretty daring in the sex department. She had the most beautiful long black hair, the face of a model, great breasts (that no man could complain about), but she had the most fantastic ass, complemented by killer legs and thighs that ever graced a woman (at least that I had ever experienced). Four great attributes all in one, I was in heaven, finding a woman like this, so shortly after leaving my wife, who by the way lacked in being the least adventurous.

On this particular evening, Dale was in a playful mood, teasing me by rubbing he ass up against me and unsnapping a snap here and there on the side of her denim mini. She would bring about a spontaneous erection and move away, leaving me standing there like an idiot. At one point, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it hang open, exposing her perky tits. When I reached out, she eluded me, by running around the living room past the window. At one point, Dale had her back to the window, she turned toward the open drapes, and so I couldn’t get my open hands on her tits. She laughed adana escort and spun back around, telling me that there was a guy waxing his car, in the vacant lot. He had evidently looked right up at her. Jokingly, I asked if he saw her perky boobs and she smiled and said, “probably!” I said that he probably got his thrill for the day. Dale and I eased back to the window and the guy was bending over waxing the front quarter panel of his car. I told Dale that he probably hadn’t seen anything. As Dale stood in the window, she intentionally let her blouse hang open, just enough to be noticeable. I moved back to the side of the drape. A certain thrill and excitement went through my body, ending in my loins. Imagine, some other man goggling my gorgeous girlfriend and lusting after her, even if it was from a distance away.

This time, sure enough, the guy looked up from his wax job and there could be no mistake, he was taking the view all in. Occasionally, he would take a swipe with the rag, I guess to not appear too obvious in his voyeurism. Dale moved away from the window with a look on her face that I had never seen before. It was as if she had gotten away with a major crime. Before, I could say anything, even to let her know of my approval and exhilaration, Dale had taken her top off and leaned into the window, in full view of the guy in the lot. The guy stood there, motionless, I could see from my vantage point, with his mouth open. I actually think I could see his erection from the second floor. Dale was more excited than I had ever seen before. I don’t think she even realized that she had ankara escort been rubbing her pussy, under the mini, as she watched the guy’s reactions.

Then to my shock and utter amazement, Dale, said that she wanted to invite this stranger up and tease him “up close and personal”. I advised her of the danger of such a plan. We finally agreed that we could let her have her fun with the night chain in place on the front hallway door. So Dale returned to the window, opened the swingout, and with her boobs hanging over the window ledge, invited the guy up, giving him my apartment number. I hid behind the front door and Dale opened it with the night chain in place, as promised. It allowed about four inches of access to whatever would happen. The guy introduced himself as Mark, through the slit in the doorway, stating he was married, but could not pass up an opportunity like this one. Dale had buttoned her blouse, while we awaited Mark’s arrival, but was soon unbuttoning it, once again so seductively as they talked through the opening. I also noticed that Dale had managed to turn the mini so that the snaps faced the door and the horny Mark. After, only minutes of idle conversation, Mark was massaging her pussy under the unsnapped mini and in turn, Dale was stroking his dick. For a guy of his slight stature, he had a massive member. Pretty soon, they were trying to get Mark’s dick into Dale’s pussy, through this small door opening. The result was the two slamming up against either side of the door, making a banging sound in the hallway causing echoes that I thought would surely bring out the neighbors.

Dale adıyaman escort asked Mark to excuse her for a second. She closed the door and looking straight into my eyes whispered that she wanted to fuck him, right then. She suggested that I could watch from the bedroom that adjoined the living room in my small abode. Before, I could get situated in a good vantage point, Dale, flung open the door. With the other hand she ripped the mini off and there she stood, completely naked. Mark came into the room, giant dick in hand and in seconds, with no conversation, that dick was in her pussy. They were so engrossed with each other that I snuck into the room and managed to turn on a night-light and get back to my position by the bedroom door. They fucked on my leather couch, which probably became uncomfortable after a bit, with the sweat that poured off either. When his dick popped out, she would guide it greedily back in and they resumed fucking like two animals. This was not the Dale, I knew! They moved to the floor and afterward stood up and moved to the wall. It was here, that Dale backed that fantastic ass into his awaiting dick. I believe she intentionally positioned herself so that I could take advantage of a clear view. He pounded her ass for what seemed like forever, as I realized that I had practically rubbed my own dick raw, watching the whole affair. They finally ended and they stood in the doorway and kissed for what seemed like another eternity.

When Mark finally left, Dale had a smile carved into her face. Without saying a word, she slipped my sore and overworked cock into her ass. Only this time, it slipped in with no resistance like never before. We duplicated the wall position, only I did not have the duration of our boy Mark. Unfortunately, we never did anything a fraction as adventuresome in our relationship, but what I wouldn’t have given to own a camcorder back then.

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