Kategori: Uncategorized

Schwimmen mit der Familie 02

No Comments

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

Amateur

Ein paar Leute haben um eine Fortsetzung gebeten, daher setze ich mich gerne daran 🙂

Da der letzte Part einige Jahre her ist, spielt die Fortsetzung auch ein paar Jahre in der Zukunft.

Kritik und Vorschläge sind wie immer gern gesehen – aber bitte erwartet kein literarisches Meisterwerk.

Vater – Ralf: 1,83m, 80kg, braun gebrannt, großes Gemächt, sportlich, blaue Augen

Mutter – Miriam: 1,70m, 60kg, bleiche Haut, Körbchengröße 75B, rotes Haar, grüne Augen.

Tochter – Kristin: 1,75m, 65kg, weiße Haut, Körbchengröße 75D, rotes Haar, grüne Augen.

Sohn – Ben: 1,80m, 75kg, braun gebrannt, großes Gemächt, sportlich, grüne Augen

Der erwähnte Junge Ruben wird in keinerlei Handlungen involviert sein oder auftauchen.

—

Vor 5 Jahren hatten Kristin, ihr Vater Ralf und ihr Bruder Ben ein Schwimmbad aufgesucht, bei dem es private Areale gab. Die Besucher konnten hier ungestört baden, sich sonnen oder sonstiges tun.

Zu diesem Sonstigen war es damals zwischen den Familienmitgliedern gekommen.

Kristin wurde nicht freiwillig von ihrem Vater und ihrem Bruder zum Sex genötigt. Schnell hatte sie jedoch Gefallen daran gefunden und aus diesem vorerst einmaligen Ereignis war bald schon ein regelmäßiges Event geworden. Jedoch hatte die Familie dieses spezielle Bad lange nicht aufgesucht.

Nun – 5 Jahre später – hatte Kristin ihrem Vater und Bruder vorgeschlagen erneut dorthin zu fahren, um erneut einen Tag dort zu verbringen. Die Situation war jedoch eine etwas andere. Neben den Dreien war auch Kristins und Bens Mutter mit unterwegs – ihr Name lautet Miriam. Sie hat ihr Äußerliches an ihre Tochter Kristin vererbt.

Und noch etwas hatte sich geändert. Kristin hatte ihren 4-jährigen Jungen im Schlepptau. Offiziell behauptete Kristin, dass es “keinen Vater” gäbe. Ihre Mutter Miriam war sogar der Überzeugung, dass Kristin einfach nicht wisse, wer der Vater ihres Enkels sei. In Wirklichkeit sah die Situation nicht ganz so aus, wie sie auf Miriam wirkte.

Kristin wusste, dass entweder Ralf oder ihr Bruder Ben der Vater ihres kleinen Jungen Ruben war. Ihr war es einerlei wer es offiziell war und sie ging davon aus, dass es niemals offiziell herauskommen würde. Sie störte sich auch nicht daran.

—

Kristin saß am Steuer ihres Wagens. Ihren Jungen Ruben hatte sie zu ihrer Großmutter gebracht, damit dieser beaufsichtig war und sie sich einen schönen Tag machen konnte. Sie stand in der Einfahrt ihrer Eltern und stieg aus. Es versprach ein sonniger Tag zu werden und sie freute sich auf den Ausflug. Innerlich hoffte sie, dass es wieder einmal zu einer pikanten Szene kommen würde.

Die letzten Eskapaden mit ihrem Vater und ihrem Bruder war zu lange her und sie war sich recht sicher, dass weder Ralf noch Ben etwas ihrer Mutter Miriam gesagt hatten. Miriam war also nach wie vor uneingeweiht über den Inzest, den Vater, Sohn und Tochter mehr als einmal begangen hatten.

Tochter Kristin stieg aus dem Wagen und ging gut gelaunt zur Haustür. So wie an diesem verhängnisvollen Tag, trug sie eine Hotpants und ein simples schwarzes bauchfreies Top. Sie klingelte und wartete vor der Tür, sah sich die Blumen an, die ihre Mutter gewissenhaft pflegte. Nach einigen Augenblicken öffnete sich die Tür und Miriam begrüßte ihre Tochter Freude strahlend. Ihr rotes Haar flog offen umher, als sie Kristin umarmte und auf die Wange küsste.

“Schön, dass du da bist, Krissi!”

“Ja, das ist viel zu lang’ her!”, meinte Kristin und gab auch ihrer Mutter einen Kuss auf die Wange.

“Und Papa meinte, dass du heute auch mit ins Schwimmbad kommst?!” Kristins Stimme klang erwartungsvoll.

Miriam verdrehte etwas die Augen. “Ja, dein Vater ist mir so lange auf die Nerven gegangen, bis ich letztlich nachgegeben hatte. Ich bin einfach nicht gern im Bikini unterwegs …”

“Ach Mama – du hast doch ‘ne super Figur… und falls du Angst hast, dass dich jemand begafft – wir sind unter uns. Die einzigen Blicke, die du befürchten musst sind von Papa und Ben.” Kristin lachte und dachte, dass das vermutlich der Wahrheit entsprechen würde.

Ben hatte mehr als nur einmal derartige “Witze” gemacht, dass er gerne seine Mutter mal in einem heißen Bikini sehen würde. Heute war wohl der Tag.

“Ich denke mal, dass die Herren der Schöpfung noch nicht fertig sind?”

“Natürlich nicht!”, meinte ihre Mutter. Beide lachten.

“Na, dann schauen wir beide jetzt noch mal, was für Badeklamotten du eingepackt hast.”

Kristin folgte ihrer Mutter ins Haus und sie stoppten kurz im Esszimmer, wo Ralf und Ben noch saßen und frühstückten. “Ihr esst immer noch?”, lachte ihre Mutter. “Wer weiß wie viel Kraft wir heute brauchen?!”, blödelte Ben und ließ sich nicht beirren. Seine Schwester schüttelte nur schmunzelnd den Kopf und schob ihre Mutter weiter in ihr Schlafzimmer.

Die Tasche lag schon gepackt auf dem Bett. Ohne um Erlaubnis zu fragen, öffnete Kristin die Tasche und zog den Badeanzug aus der Tasche. Er war nicht hässlich. Schlicht, schwarz mit einem gelben Streifen, der von der Hüfte Taksim travesti zur Schulter fuhr. Kristin hob ihn hoch, hielt ihn ihrer Mutter vor und musterte sie. “Der ist schon nicht schlecht … aber hast du noch andere? Vielleicht doch ‘nen Bikini?” “Fang du nicht auch noch an!”, meinte ihre Mutter und verdrehte die Augen. Sie öffnete einen Kleiderschrank und zog einige Bikinis hervor.

Nacheinander sah sich Kristin die Zweiteiler an und bewertete sie. Es waren ein paar Teile dabei, die einen … vintage Look hatten. Um es vorsichtig auszudrücken. “… nächstes Mal gehen wir vorher einkaufen und ICH such dir einen Bikini aus.” “Aber nur, wenn ich dir auch einen aussuchen darf!” “Klar! Aber nix olles!” Kristin fuhr sich mit der Hand spielerisch lasziv über die Seite und Hüfte. “Ich will sexy aussehen!”

Sie beide lachten und beließen es für heute beim Badeanzug. Wer wusste schon, ob das werte Stück überhaupt großartig Gebrauch fand oder ob sie nicht alle nackt dort sein würden.

Nach einer halben Stunde saßen sie alle im Auto. Hinten saßen Ben und Ralf, vorne Kristin und Miriam. “Warum hast du eigentlich Ruben nicht mitgebracht?”, wollte ihre Mutter wissen. “Ach, der hat sich so gefreut mal bei Oma zu sein – und ich wollte mal wieder allein mit euch sein!” Ben lachte kurz ahnend auf und sah seine Schwester verschwörerisch durch den Rückspiegel an. Kristin grinste schelmisch zurück.

—

Im Schwimmbad angekommen, wurde der Familie eine Umkleide zugewiesen. Sie erhielten Schlüssel für die Spinte und wurden allein gelassen. Ralf und Ben ließen die Hüllen schnell fallen und Kirstin erinnerte sich an die Vorkommnisse von damals. Sie schüttelte belustigt den Kopf und ging mit ihrer Mutter in eine andere Ecke des Raums. Kristin zog sich Top und Hotpants aus. “Kannst du mir bei dem BH helfen?”, erkundigte sie sich bei ihrer Mutter. “Ja, klar!”

Miriam drehte sich zu Kristin und ihre Tochter konnte kurz einen Blick auf die Unterwäsche ihrer Mutter erhaschen. Wirklich schöne Unterwäsche. Sie trug schwarzes Blümchen Dessous, dass ihre Kurven schön betonte und ziemlich tiefe Einblicke in ihre Oberweite gewährte.

Kristin drehte sich um und ihre Mutter öffnete die Halterung des BHs. “Danke – komm, ich helf dir auch!”, meinte Kristin schnell und überraschte ihre Mutter damit. “Ach, das geht …”, begann sie, doch wurde von Kristin umgedreht. Betont langsam nestelt sie an der Öffnung des BHs und strich dabei sanft über die Haut ihrer Mutter.

Ben rief von der anderen Seite herüber. „Krissi? Kannst du mir gleich den Rücken mit der Sonnencreme eincremen?” Kristin drehte sich zu ihrem Bruder und ihre Brust streifte den Rücken ihrer Mutter. “Ja, klar! Warte nur kurz.” Sie öffnete das Kleidungsstück und wandte sich ihrer leicht erröteten Mutter ab.

Ohne Oberteil und nur im Höschen ging Kristin zu ihrem Bruder, der es aus unerfindlichen Gründen noch nicht geschafft hatte, seine Badeshorts anzulegen. Kristin – mit dem Rücken zu ihrer Mutter – sah unverhohlen auf das Gemächt ihres Bruders und leckte sich über die Lippen. Beide grinsten. Ihre eigene Oberweite wippte rhythmisch auf und ab. “Wo soll ich denn?” “Gerne am Rücken – da zwischen den Schulterblättern!”

Sie tat, wie sie geboten wurde. “Dann darfst du jetzt aber auch!”, erwiderte sie, als sie fertig war. Ihre Mutter hatte in der Zwischenzeit ihr Höschen ausgezogen und sah verstohlen über die Schulter. “Wo denn?”, erkundigte sich Ben. Kristin zuckte mit den Schultern und spreizte die Arme. “Fang mal an. Ich meld mich schon, wenn’s mich stört.”

Ben grinste – was seine Mutter sehen konnte. Ihre Tochter drehte sich etwas, damit sie ihr Profil von der Seite sehen konnte. Ihr Sohn nahm sich Sonnencreme und begann sacht die Arme seiner Schwester einzucremen. Dann das Schlüsselbein. Bevor ihrer beide Muttern sich versah, nahm Ben sanft eine Brust nach der anderen in Angriff und rieb diese sorgfältig ein. Besonders die Brustwarzen rieb er wesentlich länger als nötig. Kristin seufzte entspannt auf und schloss die Augen. Sie gab sich der aufkommenden Erregung gern hin.

“Soll ich auch?” Miriam blinzelte mit puterrotem Gesicht und wandte sich zu ihrem Mann Ralf. “Bitte?” “Soll ich dich auch eincremen?” “Ehhh …” Sie sah erneut verstohlen zu Ben und Kristin. Leise beugte sich Ralf zu ihr. “Was gibt’s denn da zu gucken?”, grinste er schelmisch. “N… nichts! Und ja, du darfst! Der Rücken …”, begann sie, doch erneut wurde begonnen, bevor sie zu Ende gesprochen hatte.

Ralf drückte reichlich Sonnencreme aus der Tube und verteilte sie auf dem Schlüsselbein und den Brüsten seiner Ehefrau. Alsbald kümmerte sich Ralf genauso fürsorglich um seine Frau, wie Ben sich um seine leibliche Schwester kümmerte. Seine Hände fuhren sanft, aber bestimmt über ihre Haut und kneteten ihre Brüste sogar leicht. Ihre Brustwarzen rieb er besonders gern und Miriam fing schon an sich zurückzuziehen, als Ben bei ihnen stand.

“Ich hab noch zu viel Sonnencreme von Krissi übrig – ich creme dir den Rücken ein, okay?” Er begann großzügig ihren Rücken Taksim travestileri zu massieren, während ihr Mann weiterhin ihre Brüste, ihr Schlüsselbein und ihre Schultern eincremte. Ralf dachte gar nicht daran ihren Bauch oder ähnliches direkt einzucremen.

Ähnliches Interesse hatte Ben erwartungsgemäß auch. Er war jedoch schnell mit ihrem Rücken fertig. Miriam war nackt – hatte ihren Badeanzug noch nicht angelegt. Das war ihr schon unangenehm genug. Doch jetzt kniete ihr Sohn Ben hinter ihr und begann ihren Po und ihre Oberschenkel einzucremen.

“Ben!”, keuchte sie überrascht auf. “Das kann ich schon allein!”, meckerte sie mit unsicherer Stimme. “Ach – quatsch. Wir sind doch unter uns!”, meinte Ben grinsend. Zwischen seinen Beinen richtete sich sein Penis langsam auf. Er schob ihre Pobacken “versehentlich” auseinander, wodurch seine Mutter nach vorne gegen Ralfs harten Penis stieß.

Bevor sie etwas sagen konnte, drückte Ralf ihr einen Kuss auf den Mund.

Tochter Kristin stand mit unter den nackten Brüsten verschränkten Armen, grinsend und kopfschüttelnd zu. Als Ben sich erhob und sein harter Penis bedrohlich nah am Hintern seiner Mutter entlang wippte, erhob Kristin das Wort. “Jetzt lasst doch mal von Mama ab … schaut doch mal, wie unangenehm ihr das ist!” Sie ging schützend zu ihrer Mutter, nahm sie in den Arm und schob sie von den Männern fort. Dabei drückte sie ihre Brüste gegen die ihrer Mutter. Erfreut stellte Kristin fest, dass die Brustwarzen ihrer Mutter hart waren. Eine gute Ausgangslage für alles, was kommen mochte.

“Danke, Krissi … was ist denn mit deinem Bruder und deinem Vater los …”, wunderte sich Miriam und griff nach ihrem Badeanzug. “Das müsstest du besser wissen als ich. Du lebst mit beiden unter einem Dach.”, witzelte Kristin und strich ihrer Mutter beruhigend über die Schultern.

Kristin nahm ihren Bikini und zog sich das recht gewöhnliche Höschen an. Schwarzer Stoff. Als sie jedoch ihr Oberteil anzog, machte ihre Mutter große Augen. “Sowas trägst du?!”, keuchte Miriam regelrecht. Das Oberteil war ein Hauch von Nichts. Der Stoff, der eigentlich den Großteil ihrer Brüste bedecken sollte, war nur ein schmaler Streifen an Stoff, der nicht einmal ihre ganzen Brustwarzen bedeckte. Ihr dunklen Brustwarzenhöfe blickten rechts und links ein kleines Stückchen heraus. “Wieso? Findest du den nicht sexy?!”, meinte Kristin und strich wieder spielerisch lasziv über ihre Seite und Hüfte. Nur war es dieses Mal EIGENTLICH ernst gemeint.

“Der ist … der ist schon etwas freizügig, oder?”, meinte ihre Mutter zögerlich. Kristin drehte sich zu Ben, der es inzwischen geschafft hatte sein hartes Gemächt in die Hose zu stopfen. “Ben? Wie findest du den?”, wollte sie wissen.

Er nickte anerkennend. “Der ist echt heiß … also, wenn du nicht meine Schwester wärst …” Seine Mutter machte große Augen und Ralf musste lachen.

Sie schafften es ohne weitere Zwischenfälle auf die Badeanlage. Kristin breitete die Handtücher nebeneinander unter einem Schattenspendenden Baum auf und sie legte sich mit ihrer Mutter darunter.

Ralf und Ben badeten erst ein wenig.

Die Minuten vergingen, der Wind strich sanft über sie hinweg und langsam wurde Miriam schläfrig, bis sie letztlich weg döste. Kristin, die ein wenig darauf gewartet hatte, spreizte die Beine und befreite ihre prallen Brüste von dem dünnen Streifen, indem sie ihn einfach zur Seite wegzog. Ihre restliche Familie bemerkte es schnell. Kristin bedeutete ihnen, dass sie herkommen sollten, aber leise sein sollten.

Vorsichtig kniete sich Kristin breitbeinig über ihre Mutter, sodass sie über ihrem Bauch war. Dann wank sie Ben zu sich und bedeutete ihm wortlos, dass er seine Shorts ausziehen sollte. Er stellte sich vor Kristin und direkt über den Kopf seiner Mutter. Kristin leckte sich freudig über die Lippen und flüsterte leise. “Gott, wie lange ich darauf gewartet hab’ deinen Schwanz wieder zu schlucken …”, raunte sie und öffnete willig den Mund. Neben sie stellte sich Ralf, der sich ebenfalls von seiner Shorts befreit hatte.

Wenn Miriam später erwachte, konnte sie nur zusehen, wie ihre Tochter den Penis ihres Bruders lutschte und den ihres Vaters rieb. Gemächlich begann sie den Penis ihres Bruders in den Mund zu nehmen und fuhr mit der Zunge über dessen Eichel. Ben hatte Mühe seine Stimme unter Kontrolle zu halten, aber er schaffte es. Sie hatte über 5 Jahre geübt ihren Vater und ihren Bruder – die sie liebevoll Spermaspender nannte – zu verwöhnen und zu nehmen.

Sie wusste, wie sie sie zappeln lassen konnte. Sie wusste, wie sie schnell zum Abschluss bringen konnte.

Jetzt gerade wollte sie langsam starten und dann schnell kommen lassen. Kristin legte eine Hand an den Riemen ihres Vaters und begann ihn zu verwöhnen, während sie sich mit der anderen am Becken von Ben abstützte. Keiner von ihnen gab einen bewussten mucks von sich. Als Ben in die Haare seiner Schwester fuhr und begann ihren Mund gröber zu nehmen, erfüllte die Luft ein sachtes Schmatzen und Saugen. Der Takt wurde Travesti taksim schneller und Kristin merkte, dass sich zu viel Speichel und Säfte ihres Bruders in ihrem Mund sammelten. Bald würde sie kleckern – und dann würden die vermischten Flüssigkeiten direkt auf die bedeckten Brüste ihrer Mutter tropfen.

Doch störte sie sich nicht daran. Sie gab sich den schnellen und ruppiger werdenden Bewegungen ihres Bruders hin, der ihren Mund gerne nutzte, um sich seines Spermas zu entledigen. Ihr Vater musste sich indes mit der abwesenden Bewegung ihrer eine Hand zufriedengeben. Er wusste, dass sein Penis auch noch auf seine Kosten kommen würde. Noch musste er sich aber etwas gedulden.

Ben gepresst zu stöhnen und sein Riemen pulsierte im Mund seiner Schwester. Wie Kristin dieses Gefühl liebte. Das Pulsieren eines Penis in ihrem Mund. Die sich stockend bewegende Hüfte ihres Liebhabers, bis der letzte Tropfen der Ladung aus dem Penis gemolken worden war.

Leise keuchend zog sich Ben zurück und sah zu Kristin und seinem Vater. Miriam schlief nach wie vor unbekümmert. Ihr Vater zeigte mit einer Hand auf Kristins Mund, dann auf den ihrer Mutter. Sie war überrascht, mochte aber den Vorschlag. Das war aggressiv – aber warum nicht.

Die Situation war mit ihr damals schnell eskaliert und sie hoffte, dass ihre Mutter genauso schnell überzeugt werden konnte. Kristin, die noch immer das Sperma ihres Bruders im Mund hatte, beugte sich vor, zog mit einer Hand den Stoff ihres Höschens bei Seite und wollte von ihrem Vater gepfählt werden. Während er ihrem stillen Wunsch nachkam, beugte sich Kristin tief über ihre Mutter und gab ihr einen Kuss. Erst nur mit gespitzten Lippen. Miriam war entspannt und reagierte nicht sofort. Nach ein paar Augenblicken, versuchte Kristin die Lippen ihrer Mutter mit dem Kuss zu öffnen.

Erfolgreich! Miriam öffnete im Schlaf die Lippen zu einem innigeren Kuss und Kristin entließ das Sperma ihres Bruders – Miriams Sohn – in den Mund ihrer Mutter.

In der Zwischenzeit hatte Ralf sich hinter seine Tochter gekniet und seinen harten gewaltigen Riemen an ihrer feuchten willigen Scheide gerieben. Immer wieder hatte er seine Eichel zwischen den gierigen Schamlippen seiner Tochter auf und ab gerieben. Als er dann endlich in die Scheide seiner Tochter eindrang, stöhnte Kristin in den Spermakuss.

Miriam öffnete die Augen. Zuerst war sie zu perplex, um den Kuss zu beenden – oder die Situation zu verstehen. Über ihr kniete ihre Tochter und gab ihr einen Kuss? Was war das für ein Geschmack? Intuitiv schluckte sie herunter und realisierte, dass es Sperma gewesen war. Ihre Hände fuhren zu ihrer Tochter und versuchten sie fortzudrücken. Dabei erwischte sie ihre Hüfte und auf andere Hände, die ihr im Weg waren. Ihr Blick fuhr umher. Aus dem Augenwinkel sah sie ihren nackten Sohn Ben, der sich seinen harten Penis hielt und zu seiner Schwester gaffte.

Sie riss den Kuss los. “Was läuft hier?!”, keuchte sie mit hoch rotem Kopf. Auf ihrer Brust lagen die prallen nackten Brüste ihrer Tochter. Jetzt erkannte sie, dass es Ralfs Hände waren, die sie gerade an der Hüfte ihrer Tochter gespürt hatte. Und sie sah nun auch, dass Ralf hinter ihrer Tochter kniete und rhythmisch die Hüfte vor und zurück bewegte. “RALF?!”, keuchte sie und versuchte sich zu befreien.

“Gott – Mama, du verpasst was …”, keuchte ihre Tochter ihr entgegen. Ihr Atem roch nach Sperma, ihre Wangen waren rot, die Augen glasig.

“Krissi?! Was tust du da?! HÖR AUF!” Ihre Stimme wurde langsam lauter.

Kristin legte ihren Oberkörper auf dem ihrer Mutter ab und vergrub ihren Kopf an ihrer Halsbeuge. Sie stöhnte, während ihr Vater die nasse Scheide seiner Tochter gierig begattete. Lange rhythmische Bewegungen schoben seine Hüfte vor und zurück. Miriam wusste, wie gewaltig das Glied ihres Gatten war und sie wusste, wie es sich anfühlte. Aber nun zwanghaft dabei zuzusehen, wie ihr Mann ihre Tochter nahm, raubte ihr jegliches Verständnis. Und warum wehrte sich ihre Tochter nicht?! Sie schien es sogar zu genießen. Das konnte doch nicht sein…

„Mama … Papas Schwanz … fühlt sich … so toll an …”, stöhnte Kristin stockend ganz nah an ihrem Ohr. Miriam war heiß. Ihr Gesicht wurde schnell puterrot. „Ralf hör auf!”, befahl Miriam. Ihr Mann — Vater ihrer Tochter schien sie gar nicht zu hören. Seine Augen waren geschlossen, der Mund vor Erregung leicht geöffnet und er stöhnte rhythmisch, während er seine eigene Tochter entweihte.

„Nein … er soll weiter … machen …”, keuchte Kristin und stützte sich wieder auf ihre Unterarme, sodass sie ihrer Mutter wieder von oben ins Gesicht schauen kann. Die Wangen ihrer Tochter waren rot, die Augen glasig. „Mama …”, stöhnte sie, „… bitte halt mich!”

Ihre Mutter war überfordert und hieß die ganze Situation nicht gut. Ben blendete sie aus — auch wenn sie im Hinterkopf wusste, dass er mit von der Partie war. Und sie ahnte, dass es sein Sperma war, dass sie gerade geschluckt hatte.

Zögerlich und mit zitternden Händen hob Miriam ihre Hände und fasste ihrer Tochter an die Taille, wie sie gebeten hatte. Worin wurde sie hier verwickelt?! Das war Inzest! Diese zögerliche Berührung von Miriam schickte ihrer Tochter sichtliche Schauer über den Rücken. Sie wollte es sich nicht eingestehen, doch auch mit ihr „machte” es etwas ihre Tochter zärtlich zu berühren.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

The Story Of Emma

No Comments

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

Ass

This is my first attempt at writing a story so I’m not sure how good it will be. Constructive criticism is welcome but rude comments are not.

This is a work of fiction which is not real and just my imagination. All characters are over 18 years old.

The first part of the story has very little actual sex in it so if you want a quick fuck story this won’t be for you.

This is the story of Emma’s demise.

Emma is the optimy of the Brat princess. 24 years old long blonde hair beautiful face perfectly proportioned body which she kept in good shape by working out 4 times a week. Emma is the take charge kind of woman who will happily dish out orders to anyone she sees fit.

Emma lived with her mother Ann, a 48 year old very well maintained woman. Ann was well off after she married an extremely wealthy business owner, they were married for 19 years and the marriage ended after Ann caught him in bed with his secretary. The divorce was messy however Ann had ended up comfortably off and also kept 1 of the large properties they had owned together. Ann was a good looking woman for her age hair always done manicure and pedicure every 2 weeks and also worked out.

Emma pretty much ran the household, the house was decorated exactly as she wanted it, she had the master bedroom with en suite, and she also decided what cars her and Ann had in the driveway. Emma had a top of the range Ranger Rover while Ann had a Tesla.

They had a maid who came in 3 times a week to clean the house top to bottom and it was always expected that she would do Emma’s room first and it was to be immaculate before moving onto any other rooms.

It was a Wednesday afternoon in April when Ann had a conversation with Emma and how they could save some money in places where they were spending money that didn’t need to be spent.

Ann suggested they could discontinue with the maid service and that the 2 of them could look after the household chores between them. At this point Emma simply laughed at her mother and her response was simple if the maid was fired then Ann would have to do all Konyaaltı travesti the household chores herself as she certainly wouldn’t be cleaning and risking breaking a nail or damaging her nail polish. She had never had to clean for herself at any point before and she certainly wasn’t about to start now.

After a discussion about money saving ideas Emma had what she thought was an amazing idea, they should invite Ann’s friend Susan to live with them rent free as long as she took care of all the household chores. Ann agreed that would be an ideal exchange since Susan was currently getting divorced from her husband and living back with her elderly parents this could be an ideal solution.

Ann invited Susan for coffee the following day, after some coffee and quite a few tears from Susan about how bad her life had been recently Ann brought up the subject of Susan moving in with her and Emma. Susan jumped at the idea she could live rent free in this big house as long as she did the chores, this seemed like an ideal win win situation for her so she quickly agreed. They settled on Susan moving in on Sunday that week.

Sunday came around quickly and at 2.30pm Susan knocked on the door of her new home.

Greeted by Emma she brought Susan inside and to the living room where Ann was watching TV. They quickly hugged and Ann showed Susan to what would be her room from now on. After unpacking, taking a shower and getting herself some fresh clothes Susan joined Ann and Emma in the kitchen.

After some idle chit chat between the 3 women Emma suddenly shifted the conversation and stated that maybe Susan should get on with her chores now after all that’s the reason she was here and the maid hadn’t been since Wednesday so the house needed cleaned.

Ann began to say something but Emma quickly shot her the look that Ann knew all too well, the look that meant don’t you dare question me.

Susan got up and quickly began to tidy round the kitchen when Emma stopped her, oh no Susan the kitchen can wait but my room can’t go upstairs and get my room cleaned. Konyaaltıi travestileri I expect it to be done well and to my standards I will be inspecting it once you’re finished and you wouldn’t want to see me when I’m angry so I’d make sure you do it well. Susan simply smiled and said of course Emma I’m happy to do your room first whatever you need me to do just let me know.

Emma sensed something from the way Susan responded most people don’t like being ordered around but Susan smiled and actually offered to do more this was definitely going to be a positive situation.

After Susan had cleaned Emma’s room she inspected her work and much to her surprise the room was gleaming and she had no complaints at all.

It had been 2 weeks since Susan moved in and everything was going brilliantly. Emma had constantly pushed Susan to do more and more around the house and she simply smiled and agreed and got on with it. Emma hated to admit it too much but Susan was actually doing a better job than the maid they had been paying for.

1 Saturday afternoon Susan and Ann had gone shopping for some groceries, Emma being the nosey brat that she was decided to snoop in Susan’s room just to look at her clothes and shoes and see what she had in there.

She snooped around her drawers and her shoes boxes. Emma had to admit Susan had some gorgeous heels including 2 pairs of Loboutins. She went to the wardrobe had a look through her clothes when she noticed another fancy Jimmy Choo shoes box at the bottom of the wardrobe.

Emma removed the shoe box and sat on the bed with it but when she opened it she didn’t find shoes instead she found 6 dvd discs that were blank. Emma knew these weren’t blockbuster movies or music CDs as they always had some kind of markings on them.

Her curiosity getting the better of her Emma took the discs to her room and fired up her laptop. She put 1 of the discs in her drive, fired it up pressed play and nearly got the shock of her life.

On the screen in front of her was Susan, naked apart from some tan Travesti konyaaltı hold up stockings, heels and a collar kneeling on the floor. What happened next surprised Emma even more into the picture came Michelle and Nancy. Michelle and Nancy were also friends of Ann and Susan.

Michelle was wearing a black leather corset, black stockings and thigh boots. Nancy in a silk robe, tan stockings and some gorgeous black stiletto mules.

Emma couldn’t believe her eyes, she’d known these 3 women for as long as she could remember and would never have guessed the 3 of them were so kinky.

Emma watched as Michelle and Nancy ordered Susan around. Making her clean their shoes with her mouth, foot worship before they both had a shuddering orgasm at what appeared to be the very skilled tongue of Susan. Emma heard Susan constantly refer to the other women as mistress Michelle and mistress Nancy. Every time Emma heard the word mistress she got a tingle on her own pussy and before she knew her hand was in her panties rubbing herself to a mind blowing orgasm to the thought of being the mistress herself.

It dawned on Emma that Susan had been so happy to do the chores because she was in fact a submissive who got off on doing as she was told.

She decided she had to find out if her mother knew what her friends were like so she put the other 5 dvds back in the box and hid them away where she found them and kept the 1 in her laptop.

That night after everyone had gone to their own rooms Emma text her mother and asked her to meet her in the dining room.

Ann put in a robe headed to the dining room to meet Emma.

When she arrived Emma told her to be quiet she need to ask her something did she know about Susan Michelle and Nancy.

Ann laughed thinking Emma was winding her up until Emma pressed play on her laptop and onto the screen appeared the 3 other women.

Ann was shocked she had no idea her friends were like this.

Emma had an idea, she was going to make Susan a live in slave in the household Ann would be her second in command and she would blackmail Michelle and Nancy into being her slaves as well or she would leak the dvd on the internet making their lives end as they knew it.

Ann agreed, annoyed at the fact her friends had never shared this deep dark secret with her it was time for them to pay the price of secrecy.

To be continued…….

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Susan la pute du bureau Ch. 02

No Comments

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

Asian

Susan la pute du bureau Pt. 02

Susan’s Corporate Servitude Pt. 02

Coulybaca / Georges VI

Cette histoire est une oeuvre de fiction. Dans la réalité , tout rap-port sexuel non consenti est immoral et illégal, et sévèrement condamné par l’auteur.

Tous les personnages ont plus de dix-huit.

Chapitre 7 : A la disposition du staff.

Susan rentrait tout juste d’un déjeuner avec un autre client, ce bâtard s’était débrouillé pour la doigter sus la table toute la durée du repas.

Comme Gary lui interdisait le port de petite culotte sous ses jupes cour-tes, dès qu’elle s’était assis dans le bureau de ce client il avait eu un ex-cellent point de vue sur son intimité, visiblement il avait été ravi de cette absence de sous-vêtement.

Elle était pratiquement sure, d’avoir involontairement allumé les quatre jeunes hommes qui se trouvaient à l’opposé de leur table, au restaurant, lorsqu’elle avait pris place écartant en grand ses cuisses.

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

Mais ce n’étai pas pire que la semaine précédente lorsque Gary lui avait fait lire une circulaire concernant la nouvelle prise en charge des frais professionnels devant le staff des vendeurs.

Gary était absent du bureau ce jour-là, mais il lui avait laissé des consi-gnes lui enjoignant de porter sa plus courte jupe sans petite culotte.

Elle avait triché et enfilait une paire de collants, mais les ordres de son patron lui enjoignaient de s’asseoir cuisses écartées sur un tabouret face à son public pour détailler les points critiques de sa lecture.

Elle était heureuse de porter ses collants, mais comme c’était sans culotte elle se sentait exhibée à leurs regards, sa courte jupe remontait sur ses cuisses en dépit de ses efforts pour la redescendre, elle savait que les hommes des premiers rangs devaient distinguer sa toison sous la trame de ses collants et encore plus lorsqu’elle devait s’étendre pour pointer un point particulier sur l’écran.

Au centre du premier rang se tenait Phil. Il avait été son premier supé-rieur lorsqu’elle était entrée dans cette boite dans le département es-compte.

Phil ne se serait jamais permis de lui faire faire les choses que Gary lui imposait maintenant pensait-elle émue.

C’était un homme posé, attentif, entièrement chauve, il portait des lunet-tes. Il était marié, mais il se montrait si réservé et serein qu’elle n’avait jamais pensé à lui comme un objet sexuel.

Elle avait très envie de lui confier le chantage qu’elle subissait, elle ne voyait personne d’autre à qui en parler.

La présentation terminée, le groupe sortit alors que Susan se tournait vers son équipement bureautique.

Phil était resté en arrière attendant que tout le monde soit parti.

Il s’approcha de Susan.

-Susan, si j’avais su que vous vouliez utiliser le sexe pour grimper dans la compagnie, vous auriez avancé rapidement dans mon dé-partement.

Susan qui s’était rendu compte de la façon qu’il avait eu de contempler sa foufoune, comprenait ce qu’il voulait dire, elle était certaine qu’il avait entendu parler de ses dernières aventures.

Elle aurait voulu se confier à lui, lui raconter la vérité, mais avant qu’elle ouvre la bouche, il la serrait contre le mur mais sur ses hanches.

-Si j’avais su que vous étiez si facile, il y a longtemps que j’aurai fait cela lorsque vous travailliez sous mes ordres.

Sa main droite courait sur sa taille remontait pour empaumer son nichon gauche le pinçant au travers de son soutien gorge.

-Oh Phil pleurnicha-t-elle

Mais comme elle ne lui opposait aucune résistance physique il posa sa main gauche sur son nibard droit refermant les doigts sur ses collines jumelles. Ses tétons ne tardèrent pas à tarder sous ses caresses lasci-ves.

Elle regardait son tourmenteur d’un oeil résigné.

Il descendit ensuite sa main gauche sur ses flancs gagnant le bas de sa hanche, la glissa sous sa jupe dans le dos, il lui pétrit alors les fesses au travers de ses collants.

Il se tenait du coté droit de Susan, il remonta sans vergogne sa courte jupe sur sa taille, trouva la ceinture élastiquée de ses collants et glissa la main dans ses collants malaxant alors ses fesses nues.

Puis il opéra de même sur le devant empaumant sa chatoune d’une main envahissante.

Alors que son index gauche courait de bas en haut dans sa raie culière, et son majeur droit dans sa fentine engorgée de cyprine., ses doigts se rejoignant à chaque aller-retour.

Susan crispa ses fesses sous deux doigts naissaient des éclairs électri-ques qui déferlaient dans son bas-ventre.

Phil descendit ses collants sur ses chevilles, Susan enleva ses chaussu-res et enjamba alors les collants.

Le comptable d’âge mûr, déboucla sa ceinture et descendit sa braguette avant de sortir une épaisse bite bandée.

Il s’accroupit légèrement, leva le genou gauche de Susan et enfouit sa bite raidie dans sa petite chatte accueillante.

Il la sauta debout contre le mur, il avait empoigné ses fesses et ses cuis-ses et la bourrait consciencieusement.

-Avez-vous Pendik travesti idée du temps que je suis resté assis dans mon bureau en imaginant te baiser? Me demanda-t-il désappointé.

En un rien de temps il se vida les couilles dans la caverne de Susan tan-dis qu’elle vibrait sous ses assauts.

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

Et, quelques jours avant cet épisode, Gary lui avait ordonné de porter une tenue qu’il venait d’acheter, une courte brassière qui laissait son nombril à l’air coordonné avec une paire de caleçons beige taille basse.

Susan savait que certaines teen-agers portaient ce genre de tenue, mais elles avaient le ventre parfaitement plat, si quelqu’un la regardait de près ils pourraient voir le haut de sa pêche velue couverte de poils pubiens sur le devant et le début de sa raie culière dans le dos.

Lorsque Gary lui fit réorganiser la planche basse des étagères de clas-sement, elle dut s’accroupir, elle savait pertinemment qu’elle exposait le haut de ses fesses aux yeux des employés qui passaient dans son dos.

Elle le savait d’autant plus que Thom et Graig et d’autres employés la plaisantèrent crûment à ce sujet en passant derrière elle.

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

Maintenant Byron, Mick, Emile, Joe et de nombreux employés prenaient des privautés avec Susan à tout moment de la journée, en quelque lieu qu’elle se trouva, ils lui palpaient les nichons à la cafetaria, lui pelotaient les fesses dans le hall, retroussaient sa jupe dans leurs bureaux.

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

Mais cet après-midi elle désirait surtout rester cachée dans son bureau pour éviter les commentaires graveleux et les caresses sournoises dont ses collègues l’accablaient, depuis plusieurs semaines, où qu’elle se trouva.

Elle sentit soudain une présence dans son dos, elle se tourna et vit Louis, un ouvrier d’entretien qui lui souriait affablement, il devait avoir une quarantaine d’années était célibataire, n’était ni particulièrement attirant, ni particulièrement intelligent.

Il était un peu plus petit que la moyenne, une coupe de cheveux assez moche, avec une raie à droite.

Louis traînait des pieds, il sourit largement, et éclaircit sa voix.

-Um, Gary m’adit que vous pourriez venir m’aider dans la remise…

-Dans la remise?

-Que voulez-vous?

Il y avait un grand atelier dans l’embarcadère et la remise de Louis se trouvait derrière. Jusqu’ici, Susan n’avait fait qu’en regarder la porte.

Louis continua affichant un large sourire :

-Allez, tu me suis, Gary m’a dit que tu me suivrais!

Susan se leva lentement et suivit Louis qui descendait le hall pour ga-gner les ateliers d’entretien, il referma la porte dans son dos.

Cet espace incluant l’embarcadère était de la grandeur d’une classe de taille moyenne, l’endroit était poussiéreux et encombré de boites et de cartons.

Susan qui portait sa courte jupe et son chemisier blanc transparent se posta dans un coin entouré de boites.

-Pourquoi avez-vous besoin de mon aide Louis?

Il se posta face à elle un sourire railleur sur les lèvres.

-heu, j’ai réparé la voiture de Gary et il m’a dit qu’en récompense je pourrais te peloter les miches!

Le cœur de Susan battît à nouveau la chamade, mais elle ne doutait pas de ses dires.

Gary voulait se servir d’elle pour payer en nature la réparation de sa voi-ture.

Elle se sentit rougir jusqu’aux oreilles, elle se retrouvait toute seule dans cet entrepôt en compagnie de Louis.

Il n’était pas vraiment hideux, mais ce n’était pas quelqu’un avec qui Susan aurait pris un rendez-vous.

Puis Louis poursuivit, tout le monde te pelote les nibards dans cette entreprise.

Susan voulait en finir rapidement, elle s’adossa à son bureau de cuir, elle émit un long soupir :

-C’est d’accord, fais ce que tu veux!

Louis s’avança d’un pas et posa sa main droite sur son nichon droite, au-dessus de son chemisier.

Il le palpa et le malaxa rapidement tout en lui souriant à pleines dents.

Il déboutonna facilement son corsage et pétrit ses nichons au travers de son soutien-gorge, il glissa sans vergogne sa main dans les bonnets de son soutien-gorge et tripota ses nichons de ses mains calleuses.

Susan était gênée, embarrassée de se tenir devant l’ouvrier le moins important de la boite qui lui pelotait allégrement les miches.

Louis respirait difficilement, il était légèrement essoufflé, il posa sa main gauche sur les épaules de Susan, l’attira à lui et lui roula un patin ba-veux.

Elle mit docilement ses bras autour de son cou et lui rendit ses baisers fiévreux.

La main droite dans le soutien-gorge de Susan, Louis glissa sa main gauche sur sa croupe qu’il malaxa au travers de la jupe.

La jupe était si courte qu’il glissa facilement une main sous l’ourlet em-paumant ses fesses dénudées.

Il la pressa contre son torse, elle sentait son érection pointer contre son estomac.

La main de gauche de Louis se dirigea vers Pendik travestileri son bas-ventre, il entreprit de lui titiller la chatoune. Un doigt rugueux fora son chemin dans sa cha-toune détrempée? Susan écarta les cuisses et s’accroupit légèrement facilitant la pénétration de son doigt au cœur de sa féminité.

Louis lui roula un patin baveux, alors que sa langue plongeait dans sa bouche un filet de salive s’écoula sur son menton.

-Etends-toi sur le dos sur ces caisses que je te baise! lui ordonna Louis

-Gary m’a dit que tu serais d’accord!

Susan jeta un oeil sur l’empilement de caisses sur lequel Louis voulait qu’elle s’étende, était très poussiéreux.

Elle ne voulait pas passer le reste de la matinée avec des taches de poussière dans le dos!

Elle avait observé que déjà la main sale de Louis avait laissé une trace noire sur son nibard droit.

-D’accord, mais c’est trop sale! Laisse-moi le temps de me désha-biller.

Visiblement cela ne lui posait aucun problème, et ravi il la mata enlevant d’abord ses hauts talons, puis déboutonnant son chemisier pour le poser sur un endroit propre, ôtant son soutien-gorge laissant ses nibards oscil-ler doucement sur son torse, se dépouillant de sa jupe lui dévoilant sa toison châtain claire.

Elle grimpa alors sur les caisses.

Louis se déshabilla prestement dévoilant une bite assez courte mais bien épaisse.

Susan s’étendit sur le dos sur les caisses, écarta ses cuisses en grand attendant qu’il l’enfourche.

Elle l’attira sur elle et guida son épaisse mentule lui facilitant l’accès à sa caverne accueillante.

Elle se demandait s’il avait déjà couché avec une femme auparavant. Il la labourait de rudes coups de boutoir. Susan jeta un oeil sur son envi-ronnement, elle était nue dans un entrepôt, allongée sous un homme d’entretien, l’endroit était dégueulasse, cela lui ressemblait si peu, c’était moche, elle était si proche de l’orgasme.

-Uh! UH! UH! UH! Grognait-elle verrouillant ses chevilles dans son dos s’arc-boutant pour l’accueillir de son mieux.

Louis soufflait et grognait, il se releva sur les coudes admirant ses ni-chons qui dansaient en tous sens, visiblement il appréciait de “baiser une véritable femme”.

Il se laissa retomber sur elle Susan enfonça ses ongles dans son dos.

Elle le sentit jouir rapidement alors que leur chevauchée s’apaisait.

-Oh Louis… Louis! N’arrêtez pas Louis… Le suppliait Susan.

Elle était si proche de jouir aussi. Elle cherchait à le conserver en elle, donnant des violents coups de rein tout en remuant son pelvis pour profi-ter encore de ses dernières raideurs.

-Umghhhh… Hurla-t-elle en plongeant dans un semi-orgasme la laissant à demi insatisfaite.

Elle restait étendue sous Louis qui lui souriait à pleines dents.

Chapitre 8 : Susan et la cliente.

Susan et Gary passaient l’après-midi avec un autre client.

Mais après avoir joué la pute mise à disposition pour différents clients, Susan se réjouissait de savoir que cette fois il s’agissait d’une cliente.

Lana était une femme très séduisante, la quarantaine bien sonnée avec de longs cheveux bruns.

Elle était grande, un bon mètre soixante quinze et portait des hauts ta-lons qui la grandissaient encore.

Son tailleur bleu marine semblait, de prime abord, très classique, mais une inspection plus fine permettait de constater que le veston se resser-rait sur la taille accentuant l’opulence de sa poitrine, la courte était assez courte et étroite, elle descendait à mi-cuisse.

Une tenue de travail assez sexy finalement, à la différence de Susan qui portait un chandail sans manches sans soutien-gorge, une courte jupe évasée avec un porte-jarretelles blanc et une affriolante petite culotte de satin blanc.

Pour le dîner Susan était assise face à Lana.

Lana tout en fumant cigarette sur cigarette se penchait sur Susan et Ga-ry clignant ses yeux très maquillés.

Elle pressait sa poitrine contre ses bras posés sur la table, l’entrebâille-ment du haut de son veston laissait entrevoir le haut de son soutien-gorge noir brillante sans rien d’autre.

Susan se surprit à mater sa devanture, elle présumait que Gary aussi avait remarqué sa tenue, elle se demandait si Gary avait déjà couché avec elle.

De retour au bureau, Susan se joignit à Lana et Gary pour gagner la salle de réunion.

Après une discussion de haut niveau technique, Gary les quitta les lais-sant régler les ultimes détails entre femmes.

Lana était assise à la droite de Susan, sa chaise était serrée contre celle de son interlocutrice.

Les fesses de Lana reposaient sur le rebord de sa chaise, son visage tout proche de celui de Susan, sa main gauche était posée sur la chaise de Susan, dans son dos.

Susan respirait le capiteux parfum de Lana, qui se mêlait à l’odeur de ses cigarettes.

Susan l’écoutait religieusement exposer les formalités d’embarquement des produits, mais lorsque Lana pressa son genou gauche contre le genou droit de Susan, elle prit Travesti pendik vivement conscience de sa proximité.

Les paupières baissées de Lana, son demi-sourire et sa voix ensorce-lante réveillait chez Susan les agissements de ses clients qui l’avaient “séduites”.

-Vous me comprenez bien ma chérie? L’interrogea soudain Lana.

Susan répéta les instructions de Lana assurant sa cliente que sa com-pagnie respecterait le programme prévu.

-Mmmmm, c’est très bien… Gary m’avait prévenu que je vous apprécierai… La complimenta Lana pressant plus fermement son genou contre la cuisse de Susan.

Susan se surprit à jeter une nouvelle fois un oeil dans le décolleté de Lana.

La jupe de Lana avait remonté sur ses cuisses Susan distinguait distinctement le haut de ses bas et son porte-jarretelles noir.

Lorsque Lana posa sa main droite sur la cuisse droite de Susan, instinctivement elle chercha à s’écarter de Lana.

Mais la main gauche de cette dernière se posa tout de suite sur les épaules de Susan qui immédiatement se sentit piégée.

-Susan, vous êtes très séduisante… Gary m’a dit que vous me donneriez satisfaction! Travaillez avec moi et je vous apporterai de nombreuses affaires!

La main gauche de Lana agrippa gentiment mais fermement la nuque de Susan.

Lana se pencha sur elle et planta ses lèvres sur celles de Susan.

Susan ressemblait à une biche figée dans les phares d’une voiture et se sentait sans défense.

Susan savait qu’elle n’était pas lesbienne, ni même bisexuelle, mais les années passant, elle en venait à se demander ce que cela ferait d’être embrassée par une autre femme et se surprenait à mater le corps des jolies femmes.

JAMAIS elle ne l’aurait fait de sa propre initiative, mais maintenant que Lana L’OBLIGEAIT à subir son baiser elle acceptait son destin, ouvrait la bouche et rendait son baiser à Lana, goûtant pour la première fois aux lèvres d’une autre femme, elle était apeurée, hésitante mais soumise.

En fait, elle devait admettre que ce n’était pas plus révoltant que ce qu’elle avait du subir de la part de l’homme d’entretien.

Lana tendit la main droite et déboutonna sa veste.

Elle prit la main gauche de Susan et la plaça dans le décolleté sur son soutien-gorge.

C’était un soutien-gorge pigeonnant et Susan se sentait toute excitée à la vue d’une large part d’aréole débordant des bonnets.

Tentée, elle entreprit de caresser les bonnets soyeux la caressant en pe-tits cercles s’élargissant, d’elle-même elle glissa sa main dans le sillon mammaire, comme attirée par la chair brûlante de ses nibards.

A son tour Lana tendit la main et caressa les nibards nus de Susan sous son fin corsage.

Elle saisit l’ourlet du vêtement et le lui remonta au-dessus de la tête avant de le poser sur la table.

Susan se sentait vulnérable et gênée de se retrouver torse nu au boulot en face d’une autre femme.

Elle regardait Lana enlever sa veste, puis elle fit glisser les bretelles de son soutien-gorge noir de ses épaules.

Lana lui sourit en laissant tomber le haut de ses bonnets exposant ses larges aréoles à l’adresse de Susan alors que ses nibards reposaient toujours dans leurs bonnets

Lana empoigna son nichon gauche, arqua son dos, et le pressa contre les miches de Susan.

Susan avala sa salive à cet étrange mouvement instinctivement elle se recula et tendit ses miches vers l’avant.

Des vagues électriques couraient dans sa poitrine alors que ses tétons raidissaient.

Lana se pencha en avant et glissa sa langue dans la bouche de Susan, alors que les deux femmes se caressaient mutuellement les miches.

Lana était maîtresse de la situation, Susan se laissait faire, à contre cœur elle prenait du plaisir avec son aînée.

Les grommellements de Susan se différenciaient nettement des sourds miaulements de plaisir de Lana.

C’était une étrange expérience que de caresser les miches d’une autre femme, mais Susan s’était toujours demandé ce que cela pouvait bien faire.

Elle aimait cette expérience.

Les grosses mamelles de sa partenaire étaient moins fermes, plus mol-les mais elles roulaient agréablement dans les mains de Susan.

De plus les caresses de la main d’une autre femme sur ses nichons étaient enivrantes. Lana semblait savoir exactement comment caresse les nichons de Susan pour lui extirper un intense plaisir.

Les lèvres de Lana descendirent dans le cou de Susan et arrivèrent sur ses miches.

La libido de Susan explosa soudainement en sentant les lèvres de son aînée se poser sur une de ses tétons pour le titiller tendrement, la main gauche de Lana glissa de son estomac sur ses cuisses.

Elle progressait remontant la face interne de sa jambe et arriva rapide-ment à l’intervalle de chair tendre et douce séparant le haut des bas du porte-jarretelles.

-Ecarte plus tes cuisses Susan… Lui intima Lana d’une voix en-rouée.

Lana était choquée mais se sentait obligée de lui obéir docilement.

Les doigts de sa tentatrice remontèrent encore jusqu’au fond détrempé de sa petite soyeuse culotte.

Elles en suivaient le bord, palpant doucement son monticule velu, et glissèrent enfin par le coté dans sa toison bouclée.

Lana promenait son majeur dans la fentine de Susan testant l’onctuosité de sa moule engorgée de cyprine.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler:

Shawn Ch. 01

No Comments

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

Anal

She became vaguely aware of lying on a bed, and movement. The movement, she began to realize, was due to her being in some sort of traveling mobile home, which was currently traveling. The vehicle hit a bump in the road, and she heard the muffled sound of a woman complaining. This was followed by some laughter, then the drone of the wheels on the road took over once again.

She glanced around the room; tiny. Almost claustrophobic in its compactness. In fact, the bed she was lying on appeared to take the bulk of the room. She could see that a blanket was thrown over her; moving her left hand carefully and lifting an edge, she saw that underneath she wore shorts and a T-shirt, socks. Nothing alarming.

And yet she was alarmed. She couldn’t remember her name, and she was certain she had never seen this – this mobile home? – before. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall her name, facts, anything to identify herself, to introduce herself to the stranger that she was now. Nothing. She began to panic and sat up, hearing a slight clinking noise as she did. Throwing back the blanket revealed that the right foot had a leather cuff that was attached to the post of the bed. She struggled to undo it. It was locked. She sat, uncertain of what was going on, swaying slightly as the mobile home traveled on, taking her she did not know where, removing her from equal uncertainty.

More observation revealed sliding doors to the right of her, in the wall; presumably a closet. A tiny cabinet shoved against the wall; space enough to edge by to the bed or open a cabinet drawer just enough to get something out. That was all the room there was.

That, and her growing fear of why she was here, and who was she? began to cause her more panic, and she struggled, until finally she lay down again, feeling drowsy for some reason, and eventually slept.

* * * * *

“Did you check on the girl?” asked Anthony. He was driving the Winnebago, hunkered in the seat, one earphone on and tuned to country music, the other cocked upwards so he could hear what his woman was saying.

His woman was Asian, beautiful and elegant, wearing a slim red silk gown with a slit up one leg. She would have frowned if she had known he was thinking of her as “his woman.” Behind her sat two blonde females, obviously twins, watching a small TV and doing their nails. Across from them sat two elderly Asian women, known as Mama San and Auntie K. No one knew what the K stood for. No one bothered to ask. They knew that Auntie K was Mama San’s sister, and that Mama San was somehow related to the beautiful Asian woman, though whether mother or aunt, no one knew on that, either. But with Mama San, nobody felt comfortable asking questions, either. She was tiny and wrinkled and old and ferocious. Even Anthony felt nervous around her. There was a cruelty to the woman that made him mind his manners around her. As for Anthony, he sometimes wondered how a black man ended up with such an odd group, but as the only male, he was content to puff out his chest at times.

He was also a massive man, well-built, dedicated to the weights which were nestled solidly in the back in the room that he shared with Anna of the red silk gown.

Anthony was their bouncer, their protector, but Anna was the mistress, the leader, with Mama San and Auntie K as her reinforcements.

It was the girl in the little room that worried Anthony. Anna had returned to their camp two days ago, grim and silent, answering no questions. All she would say was that the girl could no longer speak, had lost her memory, and that no one was to question Anna’s decision on what to do with her. It worried Anthony. He had a suspicion that Anna was anxious; he knew enough Japanese to understand that an overheard argument between Mama San and Anna meant that even Mama San was upset, and that scared Anthony. Anything that worried Mama San scared Anthony. He was basically a gentle man, adored women, and had his own fetishes and kinks that Anna satisfied. He was content to drive them about to their little private parties, a little on the outskirts of legal, but not really dangerous.

This, however, smacked of dangerous.

The girl had been asleep in the back seat of the Camry that was now being towed by the Winnebago. Anna had gotten Anthony to lift the girl and place her on the bed. Anthony thought the girl was drugged. She had slept for almost two days, only groggily moving about to go to the bathroom, and even seemed unaware of that. Mama San and Auntie K had had to help her.

The girl was pretty, Anthony thought. Young. Maybe early 20’s. Red hair to the shoulders, green eyes, pale white skin without freckles. Peaches and cream, his mama used to call it.

Still, he was worried. He glanced in the mirror at Auntie K. She was snoring. Mama San jabbed her in the side. Auntie K snorted, moved, and went back to sleep. It was peaceful.

Except for the girl in the back.

* * * * *

In two days, the Winnebago was parked at a campground pendik escort near Savannah, Georgia, close to a beach. The twins were attracting some attention with their blonde good looks and playful manner. Anthony was reading Zane Grey, sipping a beer, and sitting in the shade. Anthony fancied himself a cowboy, in his dreams. A western knight protecting the maidens of his ranch. He kept an eye on the twins, who went by the names of Bambi and Bunni. He wasn’t sure what their real names were. It didn’t matter. They were part of his family. It appeared that the girl was too, now.

The girl was being called Shawn. Whether that was her name or not, he didn’t know. He didn’t ask. This had been the first morning she had appeared to eat breakfast with them. She seemed confused and upset. He felt sorry for her. He had tried to give her another bowl of cereal, but Mama San had snapped at him not to waste food on somebody who wasn’t earning their keep. Anthony’s cowboy generosity told him to sneak the girl a little food later in the day.

Everyone had been sent outside to the beach, except for Anna, Mama San, and the girl. Auntie K had gone shopping. Anthony had just seen her drive up, bustling inside with two bags. He wondered what was going on.

* * * * *

It was just as well he wasn’t inside to watch. His chivalrous instincts would have caught him Mama San’s wrath. She was already angry with the girl, who was being stubborn.

Shawn, as she was being called, was fairly small. Petite, short, tiny waist, slender legs. Mama San was pleased. The girl was not. She made to stand nude before Anna and Mama San. Shawn did not like this. She was fairly certain this was not her habit to stand nude. She had grabbed for her clothes twice, until Mama San had gotten them and cut them up with a pair of scissors.

“You not wear clothes till I say!” snapped Mama San, shaking the scissors at Shawn. Anna watched, arms crossed. “We need to do something about the hair,” she said.

Mama San nodded.

They had begun by cutting Shawn’s hair until it was a chic bob, angling down towards her chin, with bangs. Next, they dyed her hair black. With the pale skin, she immediately took on a more Gothic look, which caused both Anna and Mama San to nod in satisfaction. Anna left the room and returned with a set of contacts, the type one could wear for days without removing. They were purple and caused no change to her vision, which was fine, but again the effects were immediate: a pale-skinned petite woman with black hair and violet eyes, bangs that now looked seductive as they swept across the tops of her eyes. They looked at the crotch, then at each other.

“Now we need to shave her,” said Anna, just as they heard the car door close. Auntie K had arrived.

Auntie K’s bags were tossed to one corner of the room. Shawn had not been pleased about having her hair dyed, but she shook her head “no” vigorously about having her crotch shaved. This almost seemed to please Mama San, who nodded at Auntie K.

Each took one of Shawn’s arms; Anna pulled a small table out, propped up the leaves, placed a blanket on it. They forced the young woman onto the table on her back, Auntie K holding the slender wrists over the girl’s head. Anna pulled out brackets, grasped one ankle, and pulled it out. She began lashing it to the bracket while Mama San tied the other leg. Shawn heaved, tugging at her wrists, lifting her hips and struggling to close her legs. She was shaking her head no from side to side. They ignored her. Mama San placed cuffs around the wrists and pulled them over the girl’s head cruelly, back and then down, tying it to a rung under the table. She smiled at the girl coldly. “You not move now,” she said, “or I cut pussy and you bleed bad.”

Shawn shivered, jerking a little when she felt Mama San’s wrinkled hand touch her clit. The old woman pinched it tightly, pulling it up. Shawn’s head went back a little, and she lifted her hips. “She gonna make a nice slut before we done,” said Mama San.

The two old women began shaving the girl’s crotch, pulling at the lips, the clit, then working a wax onto the whole area to make certain it was smooth. They powdered it. It felt cool to the girl, but she trembled. She knew she had never shaved there before. And the hands touching her, and her legs tied open – she didn’t like that she couldn’t close her legs. She felt her inner thighs growing sore as she tried to clamp them shut, and the bonds held.

Anna sat to one side, doing her nails, while the women worked. Shawn’s body was completely smooth of hair except for her brows and head before they were done. The touching had unnerved her. Mama San seemed to delight in this. At times she would pinch the girl and tell her to be still.

When they were done, Shawn thought they might let her go. But Auntie K got the bags and showed them to the other two women. Anna nodded. “You did well.”

A leg was freed, but before she could kick, Auntie K held it firmly for şişli escort one so old in appearance, while Mama San began to roll a length of hose up the girl’s smooth leg. The leg was retied and the next leg clothed in hose. Thigh-high, white, silky, lacey edges. Shawn closed her eyes when she felt the old woman’s hand smoothing up and down the length of the hose. “This nice, nice and slutty.”

They brought out a pair of boots that came above Shawn’s knees, and each in turn was placed on a leg so that the hose peeked over the top, lace above leather, innocence above sin. Now the arms were freed, yet held, and a short jacket placed on her, and then she was tied again. The jacket was leather, black, matching the boots. It smelled good yet frightened Shawn. It was left open, made to hang that way, coming just below the shoulder blades, barely covering her breasts. A collar placed around her neck with a D ring at the front; short black gloves made from black leather that was soft were placed on her hands. She clenched them into fists, trying the cuffs again.

Mama San was not pleased. She snapped her fingers at Auntie K, who scurried away and returned with a small cedar box. She opened it and held it out to Mama San.

“You try get away! You not stay still! You be punished,” snapped Mama San fiercely. She showed Shawn a clover clamp, opening it and shutting it, smiling evilly the whole time. She threaded a chain through the girl’s ring collar, hooked each end to a clamp. She pinched the girl’s nipples with her fingernails, making Shawn arch her back in pain. “Good,” said Mama San. The clamp was placed on the nipple with a snap. It was meant to hurt, and it did. The other nipple was tortured by the old fingernails, then it, too, was placed in the clover clamp’s cruel embrace. The chain was short enough that each time the girl moved her head back even a little, it tugged painfully at the clamps. She did just this without meaning to when she felt something cold between her legs. She lifted her head again, watching. Mama San had a bowl of something, and a brush. She was dabbing it on the girl’s crotch.

Mama San held up the bowl and grinned. She had few teeth. “This ginger. My own secret recipe!” she cackled. Auntie K chuckled and wheezed. She patted Shawn’s stomach lightly while Mama San pulled out one lip, then the other, daubing the spicy liquid onto the girl, rubbing it in. It burned. Shawn took a deep breath and her head went back again when she felt the brush go just inside her, felt the juice trickle in, felt the burning.

“We train you,” said Mama San. “We train you to be good slut.”

“Nobody know her now,” said Auntie K. She rarely spoke. Mama San hissed angrily at her, nodding at the girl, but Shawn did not seem aware of what had been said. She was pulling at the wrist cuffs. Her arms overhead and bent backwards made it hard to breathe. Her stomach was sucked in. She felt so open and vulnerable.

After a few more minutes, Mama San seemed satisfied.

“How long will it take?” asked Anna. Anna had a very cultured, rich voice. It was soothing and chilling at the same time. It lacked emotion.

Mama San shrugged. “Maybe day, maybe two. We wait, do it again, hmm, few hour.” Anna nodded.

The burning continued, with a warmth spreading. Mama San leaned over Shawn’s face. “You feel that girl? You feel?” Shawn stared at her with her purple eyes. “Soon you pussy burn, soon you be a good slut.”

Mama San stood up. She nodded at Auntie K, who produced the cedar box again.

Anna stood and came to the table. “Try this one,” she said, pointing with a polished nail in the box.

Mama San cackled. She held up a small silver thing and showed it to Shawn, who didn’t understand what it meant.

The old woman reached down, grasped Shawn’s clit, pinched it and pulled it up. Then she clasped the silver ring on it. It clamped into placed snugly, not budging, keeping the clit tight and pinched and pounding with the blood in it. It throbbed, matching the other throbbing that had started with the ginger liquid. Shawn squirmed.

Mama San wasn’t finished. She took two silver chains, fine in their workmanship, and looped them around the outer sides of Shawn’s thighs. Auntie K helped her. They took clamps, placed them on the lips of the pussy, pulled them open wide, hurting her a little. The chains were attached to the clamps, and she was held open, wide, with the burning and throbbing from the ginger increasing.

“We leave her here now,” said Mama San. Anna nodded. She seemed bored. They left the room, and Shawn lay bound to the table, stretched with her legs wide open, with her stomach flattened inwards by the tightness of her bonds, with her pussy spread wide. She felt cool air blowing across her crotch lightly, and shivered.

After a time that seemed like hours, she found that she was growing wet, that she could feel the clamp on her clit jerking in time with her hips which had begun to lift up and down. That she was wanting kartal escort something to touch her there, something – something in her. She began to yearn for it, want it, to the point of feeling miserable. She began to be aware of voices, a man’s voice she didn’t recognize, outside the window of the mobile’s bedroom. She tried to listen but failed to hear. She was thrusting up with her hips now, wanting. Needing.

She was sure she had never done this type of thing before, either.

The man’s voice was inside now. Shawn was still trying to concentrate on his voice, yet still miserable with lust and some uncontrollable urge. The door opened. Mama San entered first, subservient outwardly, bowing respectfully to Anna. Shawn barely noticed. The man came closer, whistling as he saw Shawn.

“She’s a beauty!” he said. His voice sounded southern, mellow. A little uneducated. Shawn glanced at him. He wore a sheriff’s uniform. Anna smiled at him. “Undress for me,” she said. The man swallowed, looked at Shawn again, then obeyed quickly.

Shawn found herself torn between listening and watching the man, and trying to press her legs together. At one point Mama San leaned over and whispered in her ear “feel more like slut now, yes missy?” and then tugged at the clamps on the nipples. It hurt. Shawn found that the pain seemed to make the throbbing in her pussy grow stronger.

Anna put the man throw some mild flogging, some spanking. He groveled at her feet; she spanked him in turn. He kissed her foot; she bound his balls, smacking them with her open hand. He groaned, she smiled. And Shawn continued to grow more wet between her legs.

At last Anna seemed pleased with the man. He was panting, on the floor, bright red marks on his bottom. She told him to stand. He was erect, almost trembling.

“You have done well,” she told him.

“Mistress, thank you,” he said, his head lowered. His chest was heaving from excitement. His cock jerked.

She nodded at Shawn. “Would you like to put a finger in her?” she said.

Shawn tightened, trying to twist to one side. No!

The man beamed, excited. “Can I put my cock in her?” he asked.

“No!” snapped Anna. He quickly groveled on the ground, licking her shoe, until she was pleased once more. She nodded at Mama San.

“Always use glove,” said Mama San. She took the man’s hand and began pulling a glove over it, latex, snapping the cuff around his wrist when she was done. She stepped back.

Anna came over to the man, nudging him around to face Shawn. She leaned over, her mouth at his ear.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked. He nodded mutely, mesmerized. Shawn twisted, trying to free herself, tugging at her own clamps. Anna shoved him forward a little.

“Please me now, and some day I may let you put your cock in her,” she said. She picked up the man’s gloved hand, took his index finger, put it to her mouth, sucked it a little.

He breathed deeply. “Oh Mistress,” he said. She smiled.

“You have earned my pleasure in this,” she said.

He nodded, eager.

Shawn shook her head no, no! and the man did not watch her. The story had been right about Shawn; she could not speak. Whatever had happened to her, she could not speak. She could not say no, beg him to stop, beg to be let go.

She could only lie there, bound tightly, spread wide open, the room quiet, only the sound of the man breathing heavily with excitement, grunting a little as he tried to keep from cumming.

He took his gloved finger, long and fat, and shoved it into Shawn. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and began frantically tugging at her cuffs. She bucked, and this excited him, and he shoved again with his finger. She had tightened around his finger to try to keep him out, but this caused him to moan. “Please Mistress,” he whispered huskily, not even realizing he had said anything. The girl bucked and flung her hips about, trying to get away. He thrust his finger in and out of her, excited. After a moment, Anna told him to stop, that he had pleased her. The girl was panting, tears in her eyes, shaking violently.

Anna took the man to the bathroom, allowing him to cum for her while she watched. He thanked her, paid her, and asked if he could come again.

“It’s been a while since you been in these parts,” he said, buttoning up his shirt. Anna nodded, already showing signs of boredom. He bowed slightly, smiling, and left to get into his squad car, whistling happily.

Inside, Mama San and Auntie K were already untying the girl.

“You little bitch,” Mama San was saying. “You almost ruin good paying customer! Make him go away, how we get money, huh?” She dug in her nails on the tender flesh of the girl’s pussy. The clamps were left in place as they helped her off the table. Shawn sank to the floor on her knees and hands, trembling.

Anna entered the room, closed the door firmly, and locked it. She was angry. Shawn looked up, still shaking.

“You are about to learn, girl, not to cause one of my customers any problems,” said Anna.

“We going to punish?” asked Mama San.

“We are going to teach, first,” said Anna. She sat in a plush chair. Auntie K pulled out a padded stool and placed it before her.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Hospital Politics

No Comments

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

Blowjob

Phoebe Burnett was the Press Relations Officer of the local MP’s party. She called me, one of the political team at the Western Clarion, on a Saturday afternoon. We didn’t publish a Sunday paper so I guessed she wanted something in the Monday edition.

“Hi, Wanda, I wondered if you’d like to come over, I think I may have something to interest you. There’s an open bottle of wine calling you too.”

I called an Uber and grabbed my bag with the tools of my trade. In 10 minutes she was opening the door to her large, Georgian terraced house to let me in. She kissed my cheek. A good relationship with the press is essential for a PRO, naturally, and we had a very good relationship. That is to say we fucked now and then without any desire to turn it into a deeper relationship and when she wanted me to, I’d get a story in print for her, if I could. She never took liberties and didn’t feed me crap. If Phoebe said something, it was always accurate, if not always the whole story.

Good to her word, a very acceptable bottle of Malbec was open and breathing in her sitting room.

“Business first?” That meant she was horny, so I nodded, yes. “Right, well, it’s about Sir Robert Mulhall.”


Sir Robert Mulhall (Captain, Royal Navy retired) was the sitting MP. He was fiery in his defence of the military, hot on law and order, family values and immigration. He was a pugnacious man and popular with a lot of the right-leaning electorate, passionately loathed by most of those from the centre to the left.

“What about him?”

“A little local trouble. I got a call from the Chief Whip. The good, upright Captain has been caught with his flies wide open. A video has been ‘found’ of him being buggered by a rent boy.”

I interrupted. “Underage?”

“No. It’s bad enough without that. The film shows the two of them snorting coke and buggering each other. He pays the boy with coke, for God’s sake.”

“Is he going to be prosecuted?”

“No idea. I don’t know if the police even know about it yet.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“Because the shit is going to hit the fan pretty soon and I want you to know the whole story. The Whip has said Mulhall is set to resign so there will be a bye-election.

“Do you want me to break the story?”

“Can you do it without dropping me in it?” I gave her the ‘what do you think?’ look. “Yes, ok, sorry, of course you can.”

“Who made the tape?”


“The rent boy. He was going to blackmail him. The only thing to his credit is that Mulhall went straight to the Chief Whip, confessed and begged on his knees to be protected. The Whip told him to fuck off and that he’d made his bed so he could bloody well lie in it. But to keep his trap shut.”

“So, who ‘found’ the film?”

“It was sent to the Whip’s office. That’s what kicked it all off. He’d sent it to Mulhall, who tried to ignore it.”

“Wow. Who else knows?”

“The PM, all the Whips and the Speaker.”

“Excellent so it could leak from anywhere?”

“You know something, Wanda?” I asked, what? “Politics would be so fucking dull but for moments like this, don’t you think?”

Laughing, we went upstairs. This was a familiar pattern. Business over, she’d take me up to her bedroom and without bothering to undress, we’d fuck. She had narrow tastes. She liked to watch me masturbate as she strapped on and continue while she stroked her ‘cock’ and her clit, usually giving me a verbal account of what she was going to do. This particular afternoon I’d had the foresight not to bother wearing knickers which seemed to please her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I raised the hem of my dress and spread my legs before beginning a gentle stroking and fingering which, with the added arousal of watching her unbutton her own dress from waist to ankle and tighten the expensive looking harness so the dick poked through the red fabric, quickly got me lubricious enough to accommodate her when the time came. She stood close to me, lifting one foot onto the bed so I could see her cunt in the cleft of the leather between her legs.

“Get yourself good and wet, Wanda. Show me your finger. Oh, excellent. Do you want this?” She stroked the pretty, pale blue dildo. “Of course you do. Kneel on the bed, let me see you properly. I’m going to fuck you hard today, that’s what you want, sin’t it?”

It wouldn’t, quite frankly, have mattered if I’d said I’d rather have had a bacon sandwich; we both knew where this was heading and I for one was not going to complain.

With my arse high on the bed, Phoebe stood behind me and slowly entered me. She always savoured every moment and her commentary started again. “Oh God, I love how you open for me. Are your nipples hard, like mine are?”

It’s not easy to speak with your face pressed down onto the bed so she just assumed I was having as much fun as she was and ploughed on. Happily, she was right, they were as hard as hers.

“Fuck, that’s good. You’re so tight. Like a virgin.”

In different circumstances I’d have laughed, there wasn’t too much virginal about me, not least my cunt which, whilst not over-exercised, had had her Ataköy travesti fair share of experience.

Then she got into her stride, found her rhythm and, good to her word, gave me a good, hard seeing to. As always, my orgasm seemed to trigger hers and whilst we seldom coincided, she was never long after so I had to take the pounding after my climax until she reached hers. Tough job, but someone has to do it.

We lay, side by side on the bed and, having recovered, she said, “Will you publish the story?”

“I haven’t worked out how to keep you out of it yet. Your MP, your constituency, and the Clarion is your regional paper. People would have to be fucking thick not to make the connection.”

“Well, as it happens, I have a plan to cover that. It so happens that in recent months I have developed a certain intimacy with Nadine Sheraton.” She was one of the junior whips and a vocal lesbian. “She is going to ‘leak’ the story to two nationals. They will cover it for certain, but they wont have as much as you have got. Your edge will be the knowledge of the film and the payments in coke.”

So, I thought, not a scoop but it’ll make it look like I’ve done better than the nationals which will please my editor.

“But the real scoop, which will be all yours, will be the selection of Mulhall’s replacement. I have a plan and you are at the heart of that plan if you want to be?”

“Do you ever doubt that?”

‘On your knees, Wanda. Phoebe wants a bit more.”

Soundly fucked, I got an Uber back home and wrote up the story so far, and filed it for the editor’s attention on the Sunday, in time for the Monday edition.

“Is this true?” Margaret Connell was an old-style editor. She sat at her desk that Sunday morning with a large cup of hot, black coffee and looked every minute of her 58 years of hard working and living. She’d covered wars in most of the shitty countries of the world, drunk with the hardest reporters and climbed the greasy pole of journalism not, perhaps, to its zenith but certainly as far up it as she had decided she wanted to go. Her sole concession to what she called ‘the modern environment,’ was that she only smoked in the office when nobody could see.

“I spoke to the whip’s office and was told, basically, to fuck off.”

“But they didn’t deny it?”

I shook my head. “I tried to get hold of Mulhall’s private office but all I got was, ‘there’s nobody here,’ so I guess they’re forming the circle of covered wagons. I called a mate on the Times and she asked, ‘where did you get that?'”

“What did you tell her?”

“Another national had dropped me a hint while looking for local background on Mulhall.”

“You’re learning. ‘Bout fucking time. Have you got Mulhall’s private number?” I had. “Have you called it?”

“The saintly Lady M told me, before I asked her anything, that it was all bullshit and I could go and fuck myself.”

“Okay, re-write it. Make it more rumour than allegation, don’t name him – a local MP, denials by family and no comment from Downing Street. Make it sound like we’re doubtful about the existence of the film but that if it exists, it’s a game changer.” That was not far from what I had written but Editor’s like to leave their mark.

“Are you sure you’ll get the stuff on the selection process?”

“Yep.”

“Phoebe hasn’t changed.” I must have failed to hide my shock. She laughed. “Thought so. Well done you.”

Mulhall’s political career bled out slowly and painfully over the next few days, as it he had slipped into a warm bath and slit his wrists. Outraged denial turned to claims of having made a mistake or two and then to a sudden resignation accompanied by vows to fight for his reputation. Good luck with that.

It didn’t take long for the selection process to become the story. Phoebe briefed all the press that showed any interest that there were three candidates under consideration. She only named them, as promised, to me. They were all local, all worthy in their own way and all amenable to my doing a feature about them in the Clarion, which had some significant influence among the local electorate.

Edward Dando was a local farmer and producer of cider and cider brandy, proud member of the local hunt, a district councillor, and outspoken against the evil empire that was the EU. He’d been a mate of Mulhall’s and was desperate to dissociate himself from him.

Charlotte Simpkins ran a huge firm of economic analysts in the City of London. She was beautiful, always dressed to kill and married to a banker. She was superficially charming but with the cold eye of a crocodile and a ruthless streak a mile wide.

Amrita Sangritlal worked as an orthopaedic surgeon at the local hospital, and was big in local politics.

Phoebe had briefed me privately and in her usual and unique manner which of course, involved me spending a lot of time bent over for her. The price a newshound pays for her calling!

“The good doctor’s going to be chosen.”


“How can you be so sure?”


“Because we, that is to say you and I are going to make sure of it. Dando is Ataköy travestiileri a nice bloke but oh, so yesterday. Simpkins will try to seduce her way into the job but the matrons of the local party will find her intimidating in terms of intellect, looks and sheer hunger for the job. Also, she wants high office and our lot here like a constituency MP who works for them, not for their own ambition.

“Sangritlal ticks so many boxes. She’s gay, Asian, hugely knowledgeable about the health service and looks pretty bloody good.”


“Have you?”

“No. Behave yourself. She’s intently interested in local community, a staunch supporter of local education and, and here’s her ace, she doesn’t play the race or gay cards.”

Edward Dando was lovely We started off taking a walk around his land, and my photographer got some great shots of him, his flat cap, tweed jacket and tie, and green wellies a testament to his rural credentials. An old-school farmer and charmer, unashamedly pro-hunting, rural values and eager to call out the government over abandoning the countryside in favour of what he called ‘greedy city fat cats.’ When I asked him if that included Charlotte Simpkins, he’d smiled and said he was sure she was a very fine candidate. So, obviously it did then.

Simpkins was a lot as I had expected. I was invited up to her penthouse flat in London but, trying to keep the initiative, I said I’d prefer to see her in her home in the constituency. This I managed to do, but it had to be at a weekend because she was so, so busy at the moment. Right.

It was 11am on a Saturday. When I arrived her husband, Ronald Ramsden, let me in. “Charlotte believes that a woman who takes her husband’s surname is perpetuating an outdated view of marriage.” Try that, I thought, on the local matrons. He explained that Charlotte was on the phone but wouldn’t be long. He led me through to a large, farmhouse kitchen that had, once upon a time, actually been a farmhouse kitchen. Now it was a city-dwellers Disney representation of one. A huge range, ivory coloured and without a stain on it, dominated the old fireplace. A scrubbed pine table to seat about ten people stretched across the room and had clearly never seen the bottom of a hot pan, or a spilt glass of red. Nothing in the room looked as if it had ever been used. Copper pans hung from steel hooks, pristine and gleaming warmly. Fresh flowers, not from their extensive garden but from the local florist, adorned dresser and table alike.

She arrived, eventually, and studiedly casually dressed and offered me coffee which she made from a huge Gaggia machine that would have looked big in a busy coffee shop. It was probably the only machine in that kitchen that was ever used.

We sat at that huge table and she made sure I could see her long legs, clad in the beautiful black trousers, her feet in tasseled loafers. Her magnificent chest was contained within a black cashmere sweater with a V neck that revealed just enough cleavage.

She felt, she told me, passionate about the constituency and she was clever enough to have memorised some important local statistics. But for me, however, her achilles heel was her total opposition to blood sports that were incredibly popular among the rural community, her insistence that small, local schools were inefficient and wasteful of resources and that second-home owners were a major contributor to the local economy.

I asked if she’d read any of the letters in the Clarion from local people on the subject of second homes and she told me that people misunderstood economics. That’ll go down well!

Of all of them, Sangritlal was the hardest to get to meet. She wasn’t avoiding me, she was just very busy because, in addition to her surgical work, she was in the process of setting up a charity to provide what in England are regarded as routine operations such as hip replacements, to people in poorer parts of her parents’ home country, India.

I finally got to meet her in her consulting room at the local hospital. ‘Consulting room’ was a grand term for a windowless box with a desk, inevitable computer, an examination couch, books on a book case side by side with models of various joints of the body. She sat, wearing scrubs, at her desk. “I’ve just spent three hours in theatre, so apologies for the scrubs.”

I occupied the patient’s chair. I almost gasped when she removed her mask, she was unutterably beautiful. My second almost-gasp moment was when she took of her surgical cap and her hair, black, thick and glossy cascaded down past her shoulders, contrasting so powerfully with the pale blue of her scrubs.

“How will you find time for the job of an MP with everything else that you do?”

“I’ve agreed with the hospital that I can go part time if I get elected. I have to keep my licence so I have to do a fair bit, but no more than, say, a lawyer or accountant or general practitioner. I love hard work, it’s bred into me, and I hope I can bring insight to the job that others just don’t have.”

She was humble, self-effacing, funny, and very, very convincing. She had, travesti Ataköy she said, one test of almost anything in terms of policy or law. “Is it fair? That is the simplest and best question to ask about almost anything. Is racism fair? Of course it isn’t, any more than discrimination is or unequal pay. Is it fair to tax rich people less than the poor?”


As I left she shook my hand. “You’re gay too, I’ve been told.” I said that was true. “Please, don’t make it an issue in your piece.”

“You want it kept quiet?”

“No, absolutely not. I’m not remotely concerned about it being public knowledge. I just don’t want sexuality to be a matter of discussion. Nobody ever says, ‘well, of course, she’s straight, you know,’ do they? So why should they remark on me, or you, being gay? Mention it by all means, but don’t make it something that defines me.”

Phoebe was right. Not only did Sangritlal get selected, she got elected. I got a pay rise and was made political editor. Well done me.

A rather surprising event soon followed her election. There was a huge controversy at the local hospital around bullying among surgical staff. It seemed like a great opportunity to test the mettle of our new MP so I called her office for a quote. Later that evening, she called me herself and invited me to her home the next day for supper.

She had a large modern flat with a balcony overlooking the canal. It was a warm summer evening and we ate there in the waning sun. She’d cooked a mild chicken dish.

“My mother taught me to make this when I was 8. It’s still a favourite.” It was delicious and I said so.

“There has always been misogyny and bullying in medicine and particularly in surgery and even moreso in orthopaedics. Most of my colleagues are male, soccer or rugby fanatics and choose the discipline because it gets a lot of work with sports enthusiasts. Most of them hate treating geriatrics because there’s no glamour in it. Mend a rugby football star’s knee and you get the work privately, lucratively and with a virtual guarantee of more.

“But, the bullying is something else. Being Asian, female and gay, I got it all. Nobody protected us from it. Not just here in this city’s hospitals, but everywhere. Once I was elected, I wrote to the trustees of the hospitals in my constituency, highlighted personal experience and reports I’ve received from others; some anonymous but some with the courage to be open about it. I didn’t make that public because I love the service and wanted them to resolve matters quietly and effectively. Now it’s in the public arena there will be a lot of noise and lip service but will there be progress? Only time will tell.

“Your piece helped me to get elected and I’m grateful. I know Phoebe had a hand in it too but she wont admit it and, I suspect, nor will you. Just know that I know and I’m very appreciative.”

There is a pub just outside the larger of the two hospitals in the city, called the Tender Trap, ‘tender,’ being a none too subtle pun on nurse, and nurses and other medics made up a huge proportion of the pub’s clientele. It was run by Jack Roberts, a former fairground prize fighter, although, aside from his frame, you’d never know. His face bore none of the usual signs of the pugilist. The back bar was, essentially, a gay bar and, since Jack was himself as queer as a flying goat, he spent most of his time in that part of the pub. I’ll explain the significance of the Tender Trap a bit later.

The evening before, I’d been to see Amrita again. I’d barely arrived when she showed me a sheaf of copies of old fashioned poisoned pen letters, letters or words cut from magazines or newspapers and stuck onto paper. They were vile threats, utterly horrible; too horrible to repeat here.

“Have you been to the police?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “of course I have but we both know they wont solve it.”

“Have they got the letters?”

“Yes and they asked for the envelopes but I’d thrown them away, then this morning, I realised I hadn’t put the rubbish out so I still have them.”

“Who did you see?” She named a DI called Martin Levin. I knew him from when I was on the crime desk. He was a subtle as a bulldozer and loathed foreigners, gays and the press with equal vehemence. He was also incompetent. I picked up my phone.

Christina Wellow was a Detective Chief Inspector, but not Levin’s DCI. She was brilliant and we’d seen a few cases through together and she trusted me. I told her about the letters and that Levin was dealing. She laughed. “Fancy giving a poisoned pen case to a man who can barely read!”

“The doctor has found the envelopes, well, some of them.”

“Bring them round and don’t touch them.”

“How long have we known each other?”

I said goodbye to Amrita, dropped the envelopes off at the police station and made my way to the Tender Trap. I was still wearing my work clothes which, that day, were a pair of black, leather trousers which were as old as the hills but still fitted me and looked okay. They were pretty tight and I wasn’t wearing anything under them. My top was a grey silk blouse which, if I got excited, revealed my braless nipples. It sometimes pays to advertise. The blouse wasn’t tucked into my trousers. Jack was behind the bar and gave me a warm welcome. We chatted for a while and I saw Jack’s eyes move to look at someone on my left. “Hi, Benny, what can I get you?”

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Oz Beach Boy Bossed By Indian Lady

No Comments

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

Brunette

NOTES: This is a direct follow-up to my previous story “Oz Beach Boy Shows Abbie Chatfield.” It can, however, still be read as a stand-alone story. This is an interracial CFNM sex story featuring a dominant, dark skinned, 32-year-old Indian-Australian woman and a more submissive 25-year-old Anglo-Australian man. It features female-of-male body worship, humiliation and ridicule, as well as various male-female sex acts. All characters featured and mentioned are over eighteen. This is a work of complete fiction. This story takes place after my recent holiday-themed entries.

—————————————–

It was a mild summer’s evening in Sydney, Australia. 32-year-old Indian-Australian radio producer Sharna Khatri was more aroused than she’d ever been in her entire life.

Underneath her tight-fitting, figure-hugging Levis, her silky underpants were alarmingly wet with sexual excitement.

The beautiful Sharna had watched with utter delight as a gorgeous 25-year-old man named Matt had stripped completely naked in The Hit Network’s main studio and dutifully had his enormous penis measured by bubbly and beautiful radio host Abbie Chatfield.

The in-studio penis measurement was the capper to a very enlightening and entertaining interview that Abbie had conducted with Matt about what life was like for a man with a very, very large appendage.

The muscular and supremely well hung Matt’s answers were funny, honest, candid and informative. It had been a great interview.

As the highly aroused Sharna sneakily groped and caressed muscly Matt’s rock-hard butt from behind while Abbie did her job with the tape measure, the nude man got a near instantaneous and very embarrassing erection.

Mere seconds later, Matt then ejaculated, obviously prompted by a few accidental touches from Abbie combined with Sharna’s illicit molestation of him.

Clearly humiliated, the red-faced Matt had quietly gotten dressed as Abbie warmly said her goodbyes.

The popular 26-year-old radio host left the studio and headed home in a fit of riotous, uncontrollable giggles.

Far from offended, the gregarious Abbie had found Matt’s impromptu erection and ejaculation utterly hilarious, even though he’d accidentally splattered semen in her hair and across her cheek. [See Story: “Oz Beach Boy Shows Abbie Chatfield”]

“Oh my god,” Matt said as he quickly buttoned up his shirt. “I still can’t believe that happened. For god’s sake, I shot a load in Abbie’s hair…”

“It’s okay,” Sharna smiled. “Abbie thought it was hilarious. Don’t worry, Matt. She’s not angry or offended.”

The cheeky Sharna paused and looked Matt directly in the eye, teasing out the younger man’s amusing humiliation.

“Still, it must be horribly embarrassing for you though,” Sharna smirked, “getting an erection in front of two female strangers and then ejaculating so quickly in public.”

“I know, I know,” Matt muttered as he brushed his longish brown hair off his handsome face with his hands. “It’s a bit of a problem for me…”

“Well, obviously…premature ejaculation must be really humiliating for a man,” Sharna said naughtily, “and you’ve just done it on live radio!”

Sharna looked at Matt with barely concealed lust. She had to do everything within her power not to instantly drop to her knees and suck Matt’s enormous cock right there and then when he was standing in the studio completely naked.

When Abbie asked to measure his penis, the cocky Matt unnecessarily stripped naked instead of just hanging his phallus modestly out of his pants.

Matt was tall, tanned and wonderfully muscular, and was obviously very keen to show off his close-to-perfect body to two women.

It was wild behaviour, and Sharna was convinced that Matt was some kind of exhibitionist pervert.

Matt’s cocksure bravado, however, had backfired, and the supremely jacked stud now looked more like a cowed, beaten dog than a strutting peacock displaying his impressive feathers to get the attention of two females.

Sharna Khatri was ecstatic. She absolutely loved muscular men with big cocks, and truly thrived while being in charge during sex.

Sharna loved nothing more than taking the lead while fucking a guy, which had frequently inspired her to pursue considerably younger and less experienced men in order to get what she wanted.

With the beautiful and clearly embarrassed Matt standing in front of her with his head bowed and that enormous appendage tucked away inside his pants, Sharna knew she couldn’t let this opportunity slide.

The muscly stud’s compliance while she sneakily groped him turned Sharna on in a massive way.

She was horny as hell and desperately wanted to fuck Matt’s sexy brains out. Sharna was going to take him…whether he liked it or not.

That said, the beautiful and feisty radio producer had very clearly seen Matt checking her out several times, and knew that it would take very little effort to get this hotter-than-hot Anglo-Aussie back into her office and then back out of his Fındıkzade travesti clothes.

Like all her men, Sharna wanted this 25-year-old hunk completely naked and under her thumb.

“Hey, Matt, can you come back to my office to sort out some paperwork?” Sharna asked with a smile. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah, sure,” Matt replied quietly while picking up his shoes, obviously still embarrassed. “Will I have to pay for Abbie’s hairdressing bill?”

“Mmmm, I might take it out in trade instead,” Sharna said with a lascivious smile, and then gave Matt a naughty wink. “Is there anything you can do for me?”

“Sure, I could do some typing or office work for you,” Matt replied and winked back at Sharna. “Whatever you need…”

“Okay, let’s go,” Sharna smiled. “I’ll hold you to that, Matt!”

As an ad blared over the studio speakers for the upcoming promo tour from Australian-born WWE star Rhea Ripley, Sharna quickly led the way toward her office.

The feisty radio producer was nearly jogging, with Matt happily following behind…and hopefully checking out her curvy butt along the way.

Sharna Khatri loved sex, and she particularly loved having sex with hot Anglo-Aussie guys like Matt.

For her whole life, Sharna had rebelled against her strict, stifling, conservative Indian parents, and the best way to upset these traditionalist prudes had always been by dating non-Indian guys.

Like nearly all Indian parents of Indian girls, Sharna’s mother, Jesminder, and father, Virat, wanted their daughters to either marry a successful man and become a home-maker, or to study hard and become a medical practitioner of some kind.

The gutsy Sharna, however, wasn’t interested in either option. She wanted to get into the media industry, and her parents hated the idea.

In response, the irrepressible Sharna baited her disapproving mother and father at every turn.

With a wilful, expectant smile, Sharna took great delight in the disappointed looks on her parent’s faces whenever she brought an Aussie boy home for dinner.

Her parents’ over-wrought efforts to maintain their very Indian sense of decency and hospitality in the face of their own obvious disapproval was particularly amusing for Sharna.

The blatant dissatisfaction of her parents hedged way too close to outright racism for the far more liberal and open-minded Sharna.

She found her parents’ superior, disapproving attitude toward Anglo-Australians offensive and troubling.

Sharna didn’t prescribe to the same tedious, antiquated set of values that Jesminder and Virat clung to with an almost desperate need to preserve the past.

Self-possessed and extremely intelligent, Sharna was all about the here and now, and having a good fucking time.

Sharna’s parents came to Australia from Mumbai when she was just four-years-old, and her two older sisters were six and seven.

Virat and Jesminder had now been in Australia for 28 years, but they had only partially embraced and accepted the ways of their adopted homeland.

Sharna rightly saw herself as more Australian than Indian, and kicked against her parents’ traditionalist Indian values in any way she could.

She wore revealing clothes, drank and smoked, did drugs, took on a wide variety of casual, interracial sexual partners, and chose a career path that ran in direct opposition to every ambition her parents had for her.

When the twenty-year-old Sharna was accepted into a prestigious, incredibly competitive radio and media production course at a highly regarded university, an enraged Virat put a hole in the wall with his fist, while Jesminder openly wept with disappointment.

The justifiably proud and happy Sharna was furious at her parents, so she hit back at them in the best way she knew how.

That night, she chatted up a tattooed, long-haired, bearded bad boy in a seedy city bar, and naughtily took him home.

To her parents’ horror, Sharna and her well hung pick-up fucked loudly and aggressively in her bedroom for over an hour.

When Sharna unmistakably heard Jesminder hovering around in the hallway near her bedroom, she mischievously asked her half-drunk pick-up to walk out in his underwear to shock the much older woman…but then had an even better idea.

“If you actually walk out there completely naked instead,” Sharna smiled at her one-night-stand, “I’ll let you stick it in my butt.”

With a big, malicious smile, the guy gleefully peeled off his tattered briefs and then swaggered into the hallway with his big dick and low-swinging balls proudly hanging.

When Sharna heard Jesminder squeal in shock and disgust a few moments later, the half-drunk twenty-year-old doubled over with laughter and a cruel sense of destructive satisfaction.

Despite the fact that she’d subsequently achieved great success as a highly valued radio producer across an impressive array of major Australian media networks, 32-year-old Sharna’s parents still viewed her as a galling disappointment.

Her Fındıkzade travestileri older sisters were both doctors, and Sharna was indeed the shameful, embarrassing black sheep of the family, despite her impressive career achievements and substantial bank balance.

Sharna and her family had always lived in Sydney’s Indian suburban enclave of Harris Park, but Sharna left when she got her first radio job.

Against her parents’ wishes, Sharna moved to the far more cosmopolitan and bohemian area of Potts Point, which was much closer to the city centre.

Once she was living on her own, Sharna really cut loose. She gleefully did more booze and blow, and more men, than she ever had before.

And even though her increasingly distant parents didn’t even know about it, every time Sharna sucked a non-Indian cock or let an Anglo-Aussie guy fuck the shit out of her, it felt like a bold middle finger salute directed right at the sneering Virat and Jesminder.

The handsome, muscular, beautifully waxed, wonderfully big dicked Anglo-Aussie Matt was about to be Sharna’s latest fuck-me-and-then-fuck-them sexual conquest, and she couldn’t wait to get his pants off and his cock out.

Sharna wanted Matt to come all over her, just like he had done to Abbie. She wanted to see his thick, pearl-coloured semen smeared and dripping across her deep brown skin.

“Okay, Matt, here we are,” Sharna said with a smile, and pushed the door of her office open for him. “Come on in.”

As Matt walked past her through the door carrying his shoes and socks in his hands, Sharna reached out and boldly pinched him on the butt.

With a look of mock indignation on his face, Matt hilariously spun around and looked Sharna right in the eye.

“You can’t do that,” the muscular hunk said theatrically. “Sharna, please!”

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than just grab your bum, Matt,” Sharna smiled. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, you sexy stud.”

Beautiful and intelligent, Sharna had always been confident around men, and had no trouble getting them into bed.

She had straight, silky, shoulder length, black hair; smooth, deep brown skin; near-black but incredibly lively eyes; and a huge, engaging smile thanks to her full lips and big, white, perfectly straight teeth.

Sharna’s body was sensational too. She had big, firm breasts, curvy hips and a wonderfully round and pneumatic butt.

The radio producer wasn’t tall but she carried her voluptuous figure beautifully, and she constantly noticed guys checking her out.

As Sharna watched Matt stroll into her office, she was reminded again of how much she truly loved fucking Anglo men.

It wasn’t solely about striking back at her parents. She loved the rich contrast of her deep, dark skin against their much, much paler flesh.

Sharna felt at times as if she was enveloping them like a shadow, overtaking them, and then consuming them whole.

“I shouldn’t have let you get dressed,” Sharna said, and looked Matt up and down like he was a meal about to be devoured, “but I do like stripping a man naked. I fucking love ripping off a guy’s gear!”

With that, Sharna shut and locked the door behind her and then bounded toward Matt, who stood shocked in front of the radio producer’s desk.

He dropped his shoes to the floor with a thud, and almost comically gulped, as if he was acting the part of a man in sexual peril.

Seemingly before Matt knew what hit him, Sharna was all over him, ripping at his shirt and pulling its buttons apart.

In mere seconds, the older woman had the muscular young man’s shirt wide open, revealing his rock-hard pecs and perfectly sculpted abs.

Sharna then quickly moved behind the obviously shocked Matt, and wrenched the loosely hanging shirt down off his shoulders. She pulled it right off his body and carelessly threw it onto the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Matt asked. “You can’t…”

“I’m stripping you, Matt,” Sharna said breathlessly as she went to work on his pants, ripping at their top button and pulling them apart violently. “Don’t act all shy now…you couldn’t wait to get naked in front of me and Abbie in the studio. You teased us and now you’re gonna have to put out.”

Sharna aggressively ripped the zipper down on Matt’s chinos, and then pulled his pants down over his muscled thighs and calves.

With his pants pooled goofily around his ankles, Sharna pushed Matt backward so he was sitting on the edge of her desk.

Taking charge like a wartime general in battle, Sharna grabbed Matt’s ankles, lifted them up, and then pulled his pants right off his legs.

She flicked them back over her shoulder and gave the now underwear-clad Matt a singularly wicked smile. Sharna Khatri was in charge.

“You must be feeling pretty vulnerable right about now,” Sharna giggled. “Stripped down to your panties in a matter of seconds…standing there practically naked in front of a fully dressed woman.”

“I don’t know…” Matt stuttered, Travesti fındıkzade and Sharna didn’t even bother to listen to the rest.

With deft speed, the 32-year-old radio producer grabbed Matt’s Calvin Klein fitted trunks and wrenched them down to his ankles.

Like someone pantsed unexpectedly in public, Matt threw his hands over his now naked crotch, and Sharna laughed uproariously.

“Knock it off, Matt,” she howled. “I’ve seen it! Abbie measured it! I know what you’re packing! Move your fucking hands!”

“This is so humiliating,” Matt muttered and dropped his hands to his sides. “First, I ejaculate in seconds in the studio, and now I’ve been stripped by a woman in her office. I feel completely emasculated.”

“Oh, shut up, Matt,” Sharna giggled and gently grabbed Matt’s huge 23cm flaccid penis. “How could you ever feel emasculated with this thing hanging between your legs? God, let me have a look at you.”

Sharna gave Matt’s cock a few casual, gentle tugs, and then slowly moved around him, drinking in the sight of his muscular, completely waxed body, paying particular attention to his bulging biceps and striated back.

“Mmmm, I like your birthmark,” Sharna said and ran her finger across Matt’s discoloured shoulder blade. “It adds character. It’s cute. And that butt…whoa!”

“You can’t talk about me like that,” Matt said meekly. “It’s not right…”

“It’s not right?” Sharna laughed. “Puh-lease! Bend over and touch your toes, Matt! I want a really good look at your butt.”

“You can’t be serious?” Matt pleaded.

“I’m 100 per cent serious,” Sharna giggled. “Do it now! Bend over and touch your toes!”

With Sharna standing directly behind him, Matt obediently bent over and touched his toes, which made the muscles in his butt and legs stretch and tighten sexily.

It also made his silky smooth, rock hard butt cheeks spread ever so slightly, revealing just a little of the inside of his arse crack.

With prurient glee, Sharna ran her hands all over the naked hunk’s glorious butt, feeling its tense musculature and its smooth, obviously waxed skin.

Then she gently pulled Matt’s butt cheeks apart with a naughty giggle and snuck a humiliating look at his puckered little butt-hole.

“Peekaboo!” Sharna laughed. “Oooh, it’s cute! Nice and smooth…like everything else!”

“Don’t do that!” Matt said impotently. “Um, are we okay in here? Nobody will come in and see me naked?”

“Everyone has gone home for the night, and I’ve locked the door,” Sharna said saucily, and released Matt’s butt cheeks. “You’re all mine, big boy.”

Sharna theatrically placed her right index finger in her mouth and looked Matt luridly up and down as if in deep thought.

“Mmmm…what should I do with you first?” Sharna mused. “I want to kiss and lick you all over…like a male lollipop.”

Sharna moved in front of Matt and pulled him down toward her by the shoulders. She kissed Matt passionately on the mouth, and he responded in kind, kissing her with obvious enthusiasm and excitement.

Sharna heard Matt moan quietly with pleasure, almost like a woman. The naked hunk was obviously enjoying the attention.

With Matt’s marbled arms engulfing her and his enormous penis pushing up against her stomach while he kissed her, Sharna was getting increasingly aroused.

She loved being clothed while Matt was naked and vulnerable, but Sharna also couldn’t wait to feel his warm, paler skin against her hot, deep brown flesh.

With slow, deliberate pleasure, Sharna proceeded to kiss, lick and fondle Matt everywhere, taking in every glorious inch of him.

Her full lips moved thirstily from his handsomely chiselled face down to his neck, and then all across his lightly sweat-slicked, hair-free torso.

“I love the waxed look,” Sharna giggled. “A man’s hair just gets in the way of my tongue.”

Sharna bent down, put her hands firmly on Matt’s hips, and then licked and kissed at his muscled mid-section, tracing the ridges of his abs with her wet tongue, while her hands slid up and down his thighs.

“Oh, Sharna…you’re so sexy,” Matt moaned, and the radio producer smiled, fully aware that she now had the naked hunk under her spell.

“You’re so hot,” Matt moaned almost helplessly. “I haven’t been with many Indian girls…you’re amazing.”

“Well, this Indian girl has been with a lot of Aussie guys,” Sharna laughed, “and I always have fun with them…in whatever way I want.”

In between the fondling and licking, Sharna randomly tugged at Matt’s flaccid cock, and then kneeled to move further down his body, feverishly kissing and licking the younger man’s smooth, waxed legs.

“I have to suck that thing,” Sharna said, crouched on her knees and looking up at Matt’s gorgeous face, which was contorted with pleasure. “I need it in my mouth.”

With that, Sharna grabbed Matt’s slowly swelling member and guided it into her wet, waiting mouth.

Sharna expertly took in its bulbous head, and then felt Matt’s member growing in her mouth.

Sharna worked Matt’s shaft up and down with her lips, and within seconds, the naked hunk had a raging erection again, his penis now extended to its full 31cm.

With pure delight, Sharna flicked around the swollen head of Matt’s gorgeous cock with her darting tongue, and then worked the shaft again.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Mutter und Schwester Lesben?

No Comments

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

Femdom

Hallo, ich bin Timo und lebe mit meiner Zwillingsschwester Tina und unserer Mutter Nadin in einem Einfamilienhaus in XY. Eigentlich gehörte das Haus den Eltern unseres Vaters. Naja — Vater. Erzeuger trifft es besser. Da der sich aber, als wir gerade mal fünf waren, still und heimlich davon gemacht hatte und nicht mehr auffindbar war, ließen sie es zu gleichen Teilen auf Tina und mich überschreiben. Jetzt sind wir achtzehn und stolze Hausbesitzer. Die Zügel hat aber immer noch Mutter in der Hand. Und uns ist das ganz recht.

Mutti ist eine resolute und kluge Frau und außerdem von überirdischer Schönheit. Wie übrigens Tina auch. Sie hat sich in letzter Zeit buchstäblich vom hässlichen Entlein zum schönen Schwan entwickelt. Ich entwickle mich auch gerade noch etwas. Die Fitnesstudios sind die reinste Abzocke und so haben einige Kumpels und ich vom Direktor die Erlaubnis erbeten, die Sporthalle außerschulisch nutzen zu dürfen. Ach ja, ich hatte ja noch gar nicht erwähnt, dass Tina und ich das Gymnasium besuchen und uns schon langsam auf das Abitur vorbereiten.

Nun also: Dienstag und Donnerstag nutzen wir die Sporthalle mit all ihren Möglichkeiten für jeweils drei Stunden und das macht sich bemerkbar. Auf einem Klassenfoto könnte man sofort sagen, wer in unserer Gruppe ist.

Nun ist aber mit Beginn der Ferien die Halle wegen einiger Reparaturarbeiten gesperrt worden und so war ich also drei Stunden früher zuhaus. Kaum hatte ich die Haustür geschlossen, da hörte ich aus der oberen Etage lautes Seufzen und Stöhnen und gleich darauf einen unterdrückten Schrei. Schnell zog ich meine Schuhe aus und schlich die Treppe hoch. Und dort blieb ich wie angewurzelt stehen. Die Schlafzimmertür stand bis hinten offen und auf dem Bett wälzten sich meine Mutter und meine Schwester. Beide nackt. Tina hatte Mutter offensichtlich gerade zu einem Orgasmus geleckt. Daher der Schrei. Jetzt spielten sie noch ein bisschen und kuschelten sich dann aneinander. Und dann hörte ich folgenden Dialog:

„Tina, mein Liebling, es ist wunderschön mit dir Sex zu haben. Aber willst du für immer auf dieser Seite bleiben? Ich möchte ja schließlich auch mal Enkel. Hast du bisher noch keinen ansprechenden Mann gefunden?”

„Doch, einen gibt es. Einen Einzigen. Aber der Holzkopf hat überhaupt keinen Blick für mich. Er sieht mich überhaupt nicht an. Selbst wenn wir am Tisch sitzen, glotzt er nur auf seinen Teller…. ups.”

„Habe ich das jetzt richtig verstanden? Du liebst deinen Bruder?… Naja, verstehen kann ich das schon. Ist ja auch ein Bild von einem Mann. Dazu noch nett und klug… solche Männer gibt es wirklich nicht allzuviele…. Aber dann könnte ich ja doch keine Oma werden. Denn an Kinder dürftet ihr ja wohl nicht denken.”

„Ach Mami, es ist alles so kompliziert. Ja, ich liebe ihn und ich möchte, dass ER mich entjungfert. Aber wie gesagt — er sieht mich nicht mal an. Was soll ich nur machen?”

„Ich will dir helfen. Aber dann bekomme ich ihn auch mal. Ich möchte endlich auch wieder mal einen Schwanz in der Fotze haben…. Nimmst du denn schon die Pille?”

„Ja, schon ein halbes Jahr. Mami, nun sag schon: wie willst du mir helfen?”

„Ich glaube, unser Timo ist lediglich schüchtern. Ich habe da ein paar Blicke bemerkt, also die hätten dir Löcher in deine Kleidung brennen können. Du musst natürlich auch mitmachen. Wir beide lassen ihn nach und nach immer etwas mehr von uns sehen. Es müsste mit dem Teufel zugehen, wenn er da nicht anbeißt. Doch das Gespräch hat mich schon wieder so geil gemacht. Komm, Schatz, noch eine 69.”

Und dann leckten sie sich gegenseitig und ich schlich mich vondannen.

In dem Wald hinter unserer Siedlung hatte ich einen Lieblingsplatz. Dort ragte ein kleiner Felsen, den die Zeit vergessen hatte, empor und oben gab es einen richtigen Sitz. Dort konnte man wunderbar träumen. Dorthin zog ich mich also jetzt zurück und überlegte.

Meine beiden Frauen waren also nicht lesbisch, sondern befriedigten sich nur gegenseitig ihre Bedürfnisse. Und sie hatten ziemlich deutlich gesagt, dass sie mit mir ficken wollen. Nun ist es nur so, dass Mutter mit ihrer Bemerkung vollkommen recht hatte. Ich bin sehr schüchtern und gegenüber Tina ganz besonders. Ich bin nämlich auch regelrecht verliebt in sie, habe aber Angst, unser gutes Verhältnis zu zerstören, wenn ich ihr davon rede. Jetzt aber ist die Situation eine ganz Andere. Sie will es auch.

Doch wie sollte ich vorgehen? Sollte ich in das Zimmer platzen, wenn sie sich liebten, einen kleinen Skandal machen und rufen: Ich will aber auch!? Nein, Şişli travesti das brächte ich nicht übers Herz. Dann dachte ich: Sie wollen es, dann sollen sie auch aktiv werden. Ich warte ab und reagiere. So war ich also zu einem Ergebnis und zu einem Entschluss gekommen: Ich würde beide ficken, am liebsten zusammen.

Da inzwischen auch die Zeit heran war, wann ich sonst nachhause kam, stieg ich von meinem Sitz herunter und ging heim. Ich machte mich laut bemerkbar und ging dann wie üblich erst mal duschen. Danach ging ich zu Mutter in die Küche. Sie stand da mit so einer Kittelschürze angetan und hatte offensichtlich nichts darunter. Ich wollte einen ersten Test machen.

„Wo ist denn Tina?”

„Die wird in ihrem Zimmer sein.”

Daraufhin näherte ich mich ihr von hinten, legte ihr meine Hände auf die Hüften und küsste ihre nackten Schultern und ihren Nacken.

„Kann ich dir was helfen?” fragte ich flüsternd.

Sie richtete sich auf und lehnte sich mit einem Seufzer nach hinten an mich. Doch dann schüttelte sie sich leicht und meinte lachend:

„Am meisten würdest du mir helfen, wenn auch du in dein Zimmer verschwindest:”

Da küsste ich sie nochmal auf den Nacken und verschwand. Doch ich ging nicht in mein Zimmer, sondern in Tinas. Ich klopfte kurz und ging sofort rein. Sie stand nur mit einem Höschen bekleidet vor ihrem Kleiderschrank und starrte mich vollkommen sprachlos an. Dadurch gab sie mir reichlich Gelegenheit, mir ihre herrlichen Brüste anzusehen.

„Oh, entschuldige. Aber ich hatte geklopft.” Und war wieder draußen.

Das war sicher noch nicht das, was sie sich vorgenommen hatte, aber es war schon ein schöner Anfang.

Bei Tina machte ich einen zweiten Versuch am Mittwoch. Ich klopfte lange und wartete.

„Moment” kam es von drinnen und nach einigen Sekunden: „Komm rein.”

Da saß sie mit so einem losen Top über ihren Hausaufgaben.

„Kann ich dir helfen?… Tina, du scheinst mir vollkommen verspannt zu sein. Soll ich dich ein bisschen massieren?”

„Oh ja, Timo. Das wäre herrlich.”

Ich stellte mich also hinter ihren Stuhl und begann, Nacken und Schultern zu massieren. Schon bald war ein wohliges Seufzen und Stöhnen zu hören. Ich massierte dann etwas am Rücken nach unten und im Gegenzug auch vorne nach unten. Als ich ihre Brüste erreichte, wurde das Stöhnen lauter.

„So” sagte ich dann „Jetzt müsstest du dich besser fühlen. Tschüss.” Und ging.

Donnerstag war wieder „Trainingstag”. Ich wartete eine Weile und schlich mich dann nach oben. Und richtig lagen meine beiden Schönheiten wieder in Mutters Bett.

„Ach Mutti, ich weiß nicht, ob das so eine gute Idee war. Gestern hat er mich massiert und als es mir fast gekommen wäre, da hört er auf und haut ab. Ich hätte ihn umbringen können.”

„Nun, aber ein Gutes hat das ja schon mal. Er hat dich immerhin berührte. Mich hat er auch so im Nacken und auf die Schultern geküsst, dass ich ganze Scharen von Ameisen gespürt habe. Ich denke, wir sind auf dem richtigen Weg. Lass uns so weitermachen. Doch jetzt komm und küss mich.”

Und schon bald leckten sie sich wieder. Doch das wollte ich jetzt nicht sehen. So verzog ich mich leise wieder.

In der Folgezeit bekam ich dann tatsächlich immer mal hier eine Brust, da einen Schenkel zu sehen. Doch Attacken meinerseits gab es keine mehr. Bei einer Begebenheit mit Mutti wäre es dann aber doch beinahe passiert. Tina war noch unterwegs, da rief mich Mutter in die Küche. Sie stand in einem sehr kuzen Rock auf der zweiten Stufe der Leiter,

„Kannst du mal bitte die Leiter halten? Ich hab sonst Angst.”

Sie stieg also ganz nach oben und da leuchtete mir wie der Mond ihr nackter Arsch entgegen. Wie Automaten gingen meine Hände nach oben und fassten diese beiden göttlichen Halbkugeln.

„Timo, was tust du? Was soll das?”

„Naja, wenn was passiert, so habe ich dich doch so viel sicherer.”

Und es passierte tatsächlich was. Mutter wackelte und fiel… in meine Arme. Gesicht zu Gesicht sahen wir uns schweigend an.

„Timo, du bist so stark” und ihr Mund näherte sich dem meinen, der ihr entgegen kam. Und dann küssten wir uns. Lange und verzehrend. Dann schob sie mich leicht von sich.

„Lass mich bitte wieder runter.”

„Nur, wenn du mich nochmal küsst.”

Sie schlug ihre Arme um meinen Hals und küsste mich hingebungsvoll. Während des Kusses ließ ich sie langsam zu Boden gleiten und als sie stand, glitt meine Hand zu ihrer Brust. Doch ich hatte sie kaum berührt, da ging die Haustür. Blitzschnell Şişli travestileri fuhren wir auseinander und ich lief in mein Zimmer und hörte hinter mir noch einen Laut des Bedauerns.

Ein anderes Mal stand ich unter der Dusche, da kam Tina hereingestürmt.

„Entschuldige, Timo, aber ich muss mal ganz dringend.”

Dabei zog sie ihr Höschen herunter und setzte sich auf die Brille. Halb erhob sie sich dann und tupfte umständlich ihre Muschi ab. Dass sie sie mir dabei ausführlich zeigte, nein — präsentierte, war augenscheinlich. Und mir wuchs unter der Dusche ein drittes Bein.

Dann führten sie noch schärfere Waffen ins Feld. Als erste Mutter. Die Tür zu ihrem Schlafzimmer stand weit offen und darin Mutter. Splitternackt. Natürlich blieb ich stehen und betrachtete sie. Als sie mich bemerkte schien es einen Moment, als ob sie sich mit den Händen bedecken wollte. Doch es war nur ein Zucken.

„Timo, du darfst mich nicht so sehen. Ich bin deine Mutter…. Sieh mich nicht an. Ich bin alt und hässlich.”

Da hielt es mich nicht länger und ich ging hinein und stellte mich hinter sie.

„Mama, wozu hast du diesen großen Schrankspiegel. Sieh doch ab und zu mal hinein. Du bist wunderschön. Sieh mal… deine Brüste sind noch hoch und fest und dein Hinter straff und knackig. Mama, du bist schön wie eine Göttin.”

Dabei hatte ich ihre Brüste gepackt und knetete und massierte sie und bei den letzten Worten sank ich vor ihr auf die Knie, umarmte sie über ihrem Hin… Arsch und küsste ihre Möse.

„Timo, du Ferkel, lass das. Hör sofort auf damit. Das darfst du nicht.”

Doch sie ließ zu, dass ich meine Zunge ein paar Mal durch ihre Spalte zog, ehe sie mich von sich schob.

„Geh jetzt bitte.”

Zwei Tage später gleiches Bild bei Tina.

„Timo, sieh mich nicht an. Ich bin hässlich. Alles Ecken und Kanten.”

Wieder stellte ich mich hinter sie und sie vor ihren großen Spiegel.

„Tina, Schwesterchen, Das warst du vielleicht noch vor zwei, drei Jahren. Doch jetzt bist du ein schöner Schwan geworden. Sieh doch mal, was du für herrliche Brüste hast (die ich dabei ausgiebig knetete und massierte), sieh hier deinen knackigen Arsch. Tina, du bist schön wie ein Engel. Oohh, ich habe den Himmel auf Erden: Mutter eine Göttin und die Schwester ein Engel.”

„Du Blödmann, du Spinner, hau bloß ab” rief sie lachend.

Und am Sonnabend bließen sie zum Generalangriff.

„Was meint ihr,” eröffnete Mutter „wollen wir uns bei dem schönen Wetter in den Garten legen und sonnen?”

„Au ja. Ganz streifenfrei.”

„Und was soll das bedeuten?”

„Wir wollen uns ganz nackt sonnen. FKK sozusagen.”

„Nöö, dann ohne mich.”

„Hast du Angst, dass wir dir was weggucken könnten. Komm, sei kein Frosch.”

„Aber ich bekomme dann…”

„Einen Steifen? Das wollen wir doch sehr hoffen. Alles Andere wäre eine Beleidigung.”

„Na komm schon. Du hast von uns schon so viel gesehen, jetzt sind wir auch mal dran.”

So schlugen sie mich vereint breit. Unser Garten ist von einer mehr als zwei Meter hohen Hecke umgeben und von außen nicht einsehbar. Unter ein paar Obstbäumen standen drei Liegen mit Polstern. Da war Sonne und Schatten. Die Mädchen ließen ihre Kleider fallen und legten sich links und rechts. Ich sagte mir: Augen zu und durch, zog meine Shots aus und legte mich auf die mittlere. Natürlich stand mein Schwanz wie ein Fahnenmast.

„Mein Gott, Timo, ist der groß und so hart. Hast du etwas dagegen, wenn ich mich mal da drauf setze?”

„Ich schlafe tief und fest. Ihr könnt alles mit mir machen.”

„Tina, entschuldige, aber ich kann nicht anders.”

Damit saß Mutter auf mir, führte sich meinen Pint ein und begann mich zu reiten. Zuerst noch verhalten, doch schon bald mit wilder Leidenschaft.

„Mama, ich kanns nicht mehr halten. Mir kommts.”

„Ja, mein Schatz, mir auch. Lass es kommen, spritz mich voll. Aaaaa, jeeeetzt.”

Und da brachen auch meine Schleusen und ich überflutete ihren Tunnel.

Und dann klappte sie zusammen und lag als ein zuckendes Bündel Lust auf meiner Brust.

Als sich unser Atem langsam wieder normalisiert hatte meinte sie:

„Oh Gott, nach so vielen Jahren wieder einen Schwanz in der Fotze. Und dann auch noch so einen guten. Timo, das war großartig. Und was sagst du dazu?”

Ich tat so, als ob ich aufwachen würde.

„Was soll ich wozu sagen? Ich habe tief und fest geschlafen.”

„Oh Timo, du hast die Mama in den siebenten Himmel gevögelt.”

„Naja, da gehört sie ja auch Travesti şişli hin als Göttin.”

„Sag mal… könntest du das nochmal? Eigentlich habe ich mich vorgedrängelt. Eigentlich sollte Tina zuerst dran sein. Sie ist nämlich noch Jungfrau und möchte, dass du das änderst. Würdest du das tun? Deine Schwester entjungfern und ficken?”

„Nach einer Göttin auch noch einen Engel ficken? Oh Gott, ich bin tatsächlich im Himmel.”

„Dann lasst uns aber ins Haus, ins Bett gehen. Für dein erstes Mal sind die Liegen doch zu hart.”

Nur wenige Minuten später standen wir im Schlafzimmer. Mutter legte noch ein Handtuch unter und dann Tina darauf. Weit spreizte diese ihre Schenkel und ihre Spalte öffnete sich. Doch da es bei Mutter so schnell gegangen war, ließ ich mir jetzt Zeit. Ich legte mich zwischen Tinas Schenkel und betrachtete mir erst mal das Häutchen, das ich jetzt zerstören sollte. Tinas Pflaume entströmte ein betäubender Duft, der mich um den Vestand brachte. Ich presste meinen Mund auf ihre Spalte und begann sie zu lecken. Tina wurde dabei immer unruhiger, begann zu zittern und zu zucken. Und dann:

„Oh Timo, mir kommts schon.”

Schnell rutschte ich nach oben und während sie von den Konvulsionen ihres Orgasmus geschüttelt wurde, rammte ich meine Lanze in ihre Fotze. Danach lagen wir eine Weile still. Tina sollte sich an den Eindringling gewöhnen. Schließlich begann sie selbst sich unter mir zu bewegen. Mit kleinen Stößen kam sie mir entgegen, die von mir mit kräftigeren beantwortet wurden. Und schließlich fickten wir halt- und hemmungslos. Gleichzeitig überrollte uns ein fulminanter Orgasmus und ich füllte auch Tinas Fotze ab. Fast gleichzeitig mit Tinas erlösendem Schrei kam auch Mutters. Sie hatte sich neben uns selbst gefingrt. Schwer atment und keuchend brauchten wir noch eine ganze Weile, bis wir uns wieder normalisiert hatten.

„Wow, das war umwerfend. Mutti, entschuldige. Mit dir ist es auch fantastisch, aber nicht mit dem eben erlebten vergleichbar.”

„Tina, du brauchst dich nicht zu entschuldigen. Das weiß ich doch. Ein Schwanz ist eben ein Schwanz und durch keine Finger zu ersetzen…. Ups… Timo, das hast du jetzt nicht gehört.”

„Aber Mama, das weiß ich doch schon lange” und ich erzählte meine Geschichte.

„Du bist so ein mieses, gemeines Arschloch. Lässt uns hier abstrampeln und amüsiert sich noch dabei. Na warte, das gibt Rache.” Und beide warfen sich auf mich.

Am Ende lag Mutter unter mir und meine Eichel zielte auf ihre Öffnung.

„Na los,” keuchte sie „stoß schon zu und schände deine Mutter. Tu mir nur Gewalt an…. Timo, Liebster, komm und fick mich endlich.”

Da war ich auch schon drin. Es wurde ein langsamer, zärtlicher Fick. Doch je näher wir dem Ziel kamen, um so wilder wurden wir und explodierten schließlich in einem gemeinsamen gewaltigen Orgasmus. Kaum hatten wir uns etwa beruhigt, da warf mich Tina zur Seite und sich zwischen Mutters Schenkel.

„Jetzt, wo er sowieso alles weiß, darf ich es ja offiziel.”

Und dann schlürfte sie Mutters Fotze aus, was der einen weiteren Orgasmus bescherte.

„So, Kinder,” begann Mutter dann, als sie wieder unten war „das erste Ziel ist erreicht. Tina ist von ihrem geliebten Bruder entjungfert worden und auch ich hatte endlich wieder einen Schwanz im Bauch. Wie soll es nun mit uns weitergehen?”

„Ich verstehe nicht. Was meinst du damit? Ich bin dafür, dass wir einfach den Status Quo beibehalten. Ab heute musst du nicht mehr einsam und allein in deinem Bett schlafen, sondern teilst es mit deinen Kindern. Und dann wird gefickt, wo und wann immer sich eine Gelegenheit bietet. Oder, Timo? Was meinst du?”

„Wer könnte da bei solch himmlischen Wesen wie euch nein sagen!? Aber ich glaube, Mutti wollte noch etwas weiter hinaus. Einen Blick in die Zukunft werfen. Ja, Mutti, auch mir würde es so gefallen, wie es jetzt ist. Wir bleiben zusammen als eine Familie. Sollte jedoch jemand einen anderen Partner kennenlernen, du siehst immerhin noch fantastisch aus, dann gibt es keine Eifersüchteleien. Die darf es auch nicht innerhalb unserer Familie geben. Wir werden keine Strichliste führen, wer wann dran ist. Und wenn euch wieder mal das Verlangen nach einander überkommt, so liege ich halt daneben und vergnüge mich mit Fräulein Faust.”

„Mutti! Hast du das gehört? Dieser Wüstling hat schon eine Andere in petto.”

„Aber Tina. Das ist doch…”

„Ja, ich weiß ja. Ich würde zu gerne mal zuschauen, wenn er sich einen runterholt.”

„Nun, ich denke, wenn wir so zusammen leben, wird es auch dazu kommen. Und sicher nicht nur ein Mal.”

Und Mutter hatte recht. Bis heute leben wir als eine glückliche Familie. Kurz vor Ende ihres Studiums hat Tina in Abstimmung mit uns die Pille abgesetzt. Soviel wissen wir schon: Es wird ein Mädchen.

Kommt doch mal vorbei.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Dreamer Ch. 03

No Comments

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

Amateur

Dreamer – Ch. 3

Heather took me to a Chinese restaurant. I had chicken with cashew nuts. We each had three sakes. When it got time to leave, I reached into my bra to get some money out.

“No sweetie. This one’s on me. You can return the favor once you’ve built a little bank roll. And from the comments I heard, that’s not going to take long. One of the regulars said you were the best cock sucker he ever met. And all the guys who fucked you said they’d be back for more.”

For some strange reason, this made me feel proud. I was becoming a good whore. And I was getting a reputation.

We went down the block to a second-hand store. I was able to get a dress, two skirts a couple of blouses and two pairs of shoes for a total of $96. I started looking at the underwear when Heather stopped me.

“Nookie, never buy used underwear. There’s a cheap lingerie shoppe around the corner we can stop at.”

And so we did. Three pairs of lacy panties and a couple of bras set me back another $42. I still had $106 left.

When we left the store, Heather said she was going home and would see me tomorrow.

She knew something was wrong by the look on my face.

“What’s the matter sweetie?”

I shuffled my feet a little and looked at the ground. “I have nowhere to go.”

Without a word, she took me by the hand, and we walked another two blocks. We went into a building and walked up three flights of stairs. She unlocked a door, and we entered a small efficiency apartment. It was tiny but it was impeccably clean.

“You can stay here if you want. The only thing is there’s only one bed.” She raised an eyebrow when she said that.

“That would be okay. I don’t take up much room.”

She stripped off her clothing and put on a blue chemise. Kızılay travesti She rummaged in her closet and came out with a pink baby doll nightie. “This may be a little big but it’s the best I have for you.”

I put on the nightie and climbed into bed next to her. She leaned up on one elbow and turned towards me. She brushed my hair out of my face and said, “Nookie, have you ever been with another woman?” While she said that, her hand went between my legs.

I decided to play this one honestly. “No, no I haven’t.” And my hand went between her legs.

“Sweetie, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You’re so pretty. And so real.”

“Heather, I’ve never done this before. And I’m not sure I would want to with anyone but you. I, um, may be in love with you.” I hoped I didn’t just make a mistake.

“Nookie, I’m so glad to hear you say that. I feel the same way.”

We spent most of that night exploring each other’s body. Every inch was exposed to lustful hands, lips, and tongues. I loved it most when she sucked on my tits. And although I think it shocked her at first, she seemed to really like it when I put my tongue up her ass. I did that several times during the night, and she ended up orgasming each time. And she used her tongue to bring me to orgasm five times during the night.

In three days, I had given my first (and multiple) blow job, been fucked for the first (and multiple) time and been fucked in the ass. And now I had my first lesbian experience, which was the best of all. The encounters with the guys were ‘having sex’. All they wanted was to blow their load in one of my orifices. Whether or not I enjoyed it didn’t matter to them. But with Heather, it was ‘making love’. It was so tender, and we both were so attentive to each other’s Kızılay travestileri needs and pleasure. I decided two things that night: 1. I was a lesbian; and 2, I really did love Heather.

We were a few minutes late the next morning. Neither of us wanted to get out of bed. Besides wanting to make love again, I don’t think either of us slept more than a half hour the previous night. Alejandro looked at his watch and gave us a dirty look when we finally got on the floor.

It was a typical morning. Five or six blowjobs and a few fucks. I was chugging Red Bulls to stay awake. As a result, I was extra energetic for the fucks. The customers appreciated it. I made $400 in tips and had five orgasms.

I crashed hard early in the afternoon. One of the regulars was doing me doggy style when I felt myself falling asleep. Lucky for me he was kind of rough and I woke up after a very forceful thrust from him.

About an hour before the end of my shift, I was summoned to Alejandro’s office. Dianna was sitting on the desk naked with her legs spread wide.

Alejandro motioned for me to sit on the sofa. “I’ve got an out call for the two of you tomorrow. Together. The clients are a man and a woman and you two are going to be horny schoolgirls They specifically asked for the two youngest looking girls I have.”

Dianna looked almost as young as I did. Her smallish breasts and thin figure made her look like she was in high school.

“No makeup except some heavy pink lipstick. A short plaid skirt and a white blouse. White knee socks and some saddle shoes. But what you wear underneath the skirt and blouse should be really slutty.”

“Dianna, Julio knows where you live. He’ll pick you up at 11:30 after he gets Nookie. Where do you live Nookie.”

“I’m Travesti kızılay staying with Heather until I get a place of my own.”

He gave me a look and said, “That explains the lateness this morning. Don’t make a habit out of it. I don’t care what you do on your own time but I expect you to be on the floor when scheduled. Understand?’

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, Julio will pick you up at eleven…Dianna, you can go. I have something else to discuss with Nookie.”

Dianna gave me a look on her way out. I bet she figured I was going to be sucking cock or be bent over the desk after she left.

When the door closed, Alejandro looked at me. “How do you like it here Nookie? Is anything bothering you?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I decided to be honest.

“Well, um, Officer Bryan says he’s going to fuck me in the ass every time he comes in. Do I really have to do that?”

He gave me that dirty look again. “Nookie, let me explain something to you. It’s imperative that we keep the cop happy. So you need to do anything he wants. And that includes getting fucked in the ass. If you didn’t want to get fucked in the ass, you shouldn’t have such a juicy one. Got it?’

“Um, okay.”

He knew I wasn’t happy. “I’ll tell you what. If he fucks you in the ass, I’ll give you $25 instead of the usual $5. Just don’t tell any of the other girls.”

I would get $100 for doing this with a regular customer. But I decided not to push it. I just smiled and nodded.

“Nookie, I noticed you were falling asleep when one of the customers was plowing you from behind. Good thing he didn’t notice. If it happens again, you’ll be giving blowjobs on your knees in a dirty men’s room at the truck stop. Understood?”

“Yes Sir. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s good. You have a lot of talent Sweetie. You can make a lot of money in this business. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I won’t.”

He looked at his watch. “Okay your shift is almost over. Come over here and get on your knees. You have just enough time for you to suck my cock.”

So of course, I did.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Nu à l’hôpital (03)

No Comments

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

Bbc Slut

Les minutes passent. Cette femme qui continue à évoluer dans mon dos me met profondément mal à l’aise. Je n’ose pas me retourner, je n’ose pas poser de questions. Je reste statique fixant le mur face à moi. Je réalise qu’elle détient le contrôle sur moi mais j’ignore ce qu’elle me veut.

Soudain, je sursaute, en l’entendant parler : “Bonjour mesdemoiselles. Je vous attendais. Aujourd’hui, vous avez de la chance dans votre stage. Il est important que vous puissiez maitriser l’art de la toilette. Il est toutefois parfois compliqué de vous superviser dans cet exercice, tout en respectant l’intimité du patient. Aujourd’hui, le jeune homme ici présent se porte volontaire pour cet exercice”.

Je baisse la tête, n’osant les regarder. L’infirmière m’attrape l’épaule, enfonçant ses ongles. Elle me dit “N’est-ce pas, Monsieur, que vous êtes volontaire?”. Glacé par ce jeu malsain qu’elle semble lancé, je dis “oui” timidement, sans réflechir, ni oser regarder les deux jeunes stagiaires. Elle conclut en disant “Allons-y”. D’un geste de la main, elle indique la sortie du bureau aux stagiaires avant de me saisir brutalement le bras pour me faire lever. Les stagiaires sortent. Je reste immobile, tétanisé. Elle me bouscule alors comme pour montrer son agacement. J’avance, en remettant les mains sur mon sexe, mais elle me donne une claque violente sur les mains. Naturellement, comme un automate, comme sa marionnette, je pose les bras le long du corps renonçant à ma pudeur.

Nous avançons dans un couloir où les infirmières s’affairent. Certaines portes de chambres sont ouvertes et parfois des visiteurs sont présents. Je constate leur surprise, en me voyant passer ainsi. Je vois les deux stagiaires gesticuler face à moi, se disant des mots à l’oreille et semblant amusées d’être là.

Nous arrivons dans une chambre vide et je suis poussé faire la salle de main. Installé sous la douche, je me fais mouillé. L’infirmière saisit un gant de toilette et commence à détailler ses gestes qu’elle exécute sur moi : “Vous le savez. La toilette est un acte important. A plus forte raison, si elle est pré-opératoire. Il y’a un ordre à respecter. D’abord, le visage et les cheveux. N’oubliez pas les oreilles et à l’arrière des oreilles. Ensuite les bas, des mains aux aisselles. Le torse, il faut bien Kadıköy travesti insister et puis le dos. Nous passons ensuite aux jambes de l’aine aux pieds. Pensez à bien écarter le pénis et les testicules pour ne pas négliger l’aine. Nous voici maintenant dans la dernière zone mais probablement la plus importante. C’est souvent ici que la toilette est négligée. Il y’a beaucoup de zones de plis et il faut tout couvrir, parfois insister. D’abord les bourses, il faut bien les soulever, les déplacer pour couvrir toute la zone. Ensuite, le pénis. Monsieur n’est pas circoncis. Vous devez donc bien veillé à couvrir toute la peau. Au niveau du frein que vous voyez ici… Regardez de plus près, vous devez être particulièrement attentives. J’ai personnellement un petit truc. Je saisis le pénis avec le gant dans sa longueur en frottant bien, insiste sur le gland. Une fois fait, je laisse le prépuce frotter contre le gland pour être sûre que le savon pénètre toutes les zones …”. A ce stade, bien qu’elle présente les choses comme un acte médical, je réalise qu’elle n’est ni plus ni moins en train de me masturber, mais je n’ose rien dire. Je tente de me concentrer pour ne pas réagir, mais je sens malgré moi, l’érection monter. Comme si cette nouvelle exposition ne suffisait pas l’infirmière continue à commenter “Là, Monsieur a une érection. Cela arrive parfois chez les jeunes hommes. Vous devez rester professionnelles et continuer la toilette, sans en tenir compte”. Elle continue. Elle recommence à décrire “Cette zone est bien nettoyé. Reprenons un gant pour la dernière zone, les fesses. Encore une fois, les plis sont importants, n’hésitez pas à écarter. Il convient d’insister sur l’anus. Au besoin, forcez un peu l’entrée avec votre index. Ensuite, nous rinçons abondamment. Mesdemoiselles, je vous propose à votre tour de tenter la toilette. Nous allons nous limiter aux dernières zones qui sont les plus complexes, les deux dernières étapes. Nous allons commencer par vous!”

La première des deux stagiaires s’attaque donc au savonnage de mon intimité. Si au début, ses gestes sont timides et délicats, l’approbation de l’infirmière l’amène vite à des mouvements plus sûrs et vigoureux. Comme lui a montré son enseignante, elle insiste et n’hésite pas à pratiquer ce mouvement Kadıköy travestileri de masturbation, censé aider à répartir le savon. Malgré la gêne, mon érection ne faiblit pas et je commence à ressentir même une certaine excitation. Lorsqu’elle passe à la partie postérieure, je suis soulagé qu’elle délaisse la première zone, source d’une excitation que j’avais peur de ne plus pouvoir contenir.

Sitôt rincé, l’infirmière indique le tour de la deuxième stagiaire. Celle-ci semble pleine d’assurance, presque compétitive. Comme si, elle essayait de montrer son aise et de surpasser sa camarade. Ses gestes, tout sauf délicats, sur mon intimité réveilla dangereusement mon excitation. Sans que je puisse m’en rendre compte, je poussais un gémissement qui me traversa tout le corps. La stagiaire s’arrêta nette et j’entendit l’infirmière reprendre sa formation “Ca, mesdemoiselles, c’est une goutte de liquide pré-séminale. Cela arrive chez certains patients qui semblent prendre du plaisir à un acte qui ne devrait pas en donner. Quand ça arrive, vous devez rester professionnelles et continuer votre opération. Montrer que vous êtes déstabilisées ne donnerait que plus de plaisir à ce genre de pervers”. Humilié par ces paroles, je baisse la tête, laissant la stagiaire terminer ma toilette. L’infirmière m’essuya ensuite vigoureusement, faisant vibrer tout mon corps.

La toilette finie, nous sortons de la salle de bain. D’un ton autoritaire, l’infirmière me dit “Attendez-moi là!” tout en indiquant le lit de la chambre. Je m’y assois, tentant de me rassurer. Je me dis que je me suis laissé faire, que j’ai fait tout ce qu’elle me demandait. Je la visualise, revenant avec mes vêtements qu’elle me rendrait. Je m’imagine, me rhabillant et rentrant tranquillement chez moi. J’en viens à me convaincre que tout est fini. Enfin!

L’infirmière revint. Je constate qu’au-dessus de son uniforme, elle a enfilé une blouse blanche. Elle me jette un regard froid et me dit “Allongez-vous”, puis rentre dans la salle de bain. Je m’exécute sans réfléchir. Une fois, allongé nu, sur le dos, mon érection à peine moins forte, je m’interroge : Pourquoi est-ce que je semble obéir à tous ses caprices? Est-ce par peur du personnage? Est-ce par peur de prolonger mon calvaire?

La réflexion Travesti kadıköy est vite coupée par son retour. Je constate qu’elle a de toute évidence enlever son pantalon qui ne dépasse plus de la blouse. Elle s’approche du lit, active le mécanisme pour baisser le lit au plus bas. Elle place ensuite sa main droite à hauteur de mon pénis et commence à lui donner des petites claques, tout en me disant “Je vous avais demandé de jouer le jeu. Mais comme tous les hommes dans votre genre, il vous est visiblement impossible de vous contrôler”.

Arrêtant ses gestes qui alimentaient mon érection, elle se tût. Dans un geste qui me stupéfie tant qu’il parait improbable et déplacé, elle enjambe mon corps et s’assoie sur mon bassin. Sans un mot, elle saisit mon sexe et l’insère dans son vagin dissimulé, avant de faire des mouvements saccadés avec son corps. J’en suis stupéfait : comment est-ce que ça a pu dérapé ainsi? Regardant son visage, j’étais troublé. Elle ne semblait pas montré d’émotions ou de plaisir. Ses gestes n’accompagnaient pas son visage, toujours aussi dur.

Au bout de plusieurs va-et-vient, je commence à gémir ce qui la pousse sitôt à interrompre son mouvement de va-et-vient. Elle me pinça alors violent le flanc, en me disant “Vous avez intérêt à vous contenir!”. Aussitôt, elle reprit ses mouvements.

Plus apeuré qu’excité, je n’en sens pas moins le plaisir monter et au bord de l’extase interdite, je me mis à paniquer. Tentant de demander une pause mais tétanisé par cette femme, je pris la parole haletant : “Stop… Je … je …”. Elle s’arrête alors net, l’air en colère. Elle se retire et saisit mon pénis qu’elle se mit à masturber à toute allure. L’orgasme est atteint en cinq secondes à peine. Toutefois, elle ne semble pas y faire attention, maintenant le rythme. Elle ajoute au geste une forme de sermon “Les hommes comme vous me dégoute. Vous vous sentez tout puissant et ne pensez qu’à votre propre plaisir. Vous voyez les femmes comme des objets et …”. Au moment où elle prononce sa dernière phrase, la masturbation qu’elle continuait à m’asséner vigoureusement après l’orgasme me fit tressaillir de douleur. Dans un geste réflexe, je repousse sa main, la forçant à lâcher mon pénis endoloris.

Ce geste effectué, elle s’interrompit tant de parler de pratiquer une quelconque geste sur moi. Elle me lança un regard plein de colère et de mépris, retourna s’habiller dans la salle de bain et disparu de la chambre…

Après cette désapprobation de sa part, mes espoirs sont vains. Je réalise bien qu’il y’a peu de chance que mon calvaire s’arrête ici.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler:

She Shall Have Music

No Comments

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

Amateur

Miss Davis stood beside me taking dictation, legs quite wide apart. She stood in this posture because it allowed me to idly finger her ever wet cunt as I dictated. The dress code I had specified for my new office slut meant that she never wore panties and always wore a short skirt and stockings.

Rather than distracting me, I found this activity helped me focus on the matter at hand. My slut was not distracted, not now any way. Early in her employment I had slid a thumb into her arse, to add to the 3 fingers already in her pussy – and she had orgasmed instantly. As a result she then needed me to repeat the last line of the letter we had been working on. Six harsh strokes of the cane had been her punishment and she had never made the same mistake again. I liked that about the girl. She rarely made mistakes and never made the same one twice. In one way it was a pity. I had to be inventive to find things that deserved punishment. But she never complained when I had to be very picky in order to find some misdemeanour that required me to turn her lovely white arse pink, then red, with hand or cane or paddle.

I reached the end of the letter and withdrew my fingers from her cunt, causing a delicious slurping noise as I did so. My cock hardened as she bent to lasciviously lick my fingers clean. Without a word I pushed my chair back from my desk at the same time as I unbuttoned my trousers. I moved her in front of me, facing away, and hitched her skirt up around her hips, then pulled her down towards my cock. After a moment’s indecision I positioned the head of my cock against her arse and, knowing what was expected, she lowered her self onto my prick with a deep sigh of satisfaction. She began to move up and down and I relished the effect the butt plugs were having on her arsehole. Each week, since she had started working for me, I had required her to wear a slightly bigger plug for a few hours each day. Now even the largest cock slid into her arse with ease, but it was still exquisitely tight. I could feel the muscles in her sphincter squeezing on my prick, a conscious action I had carefully schooled her in.

The phone on my desk rang and I nearly shouted in frustration. But without pausing in her regular rise and fall she answered it, still fucking her arse onto my cock.

‘Mr Bell’s office, may I help you?’ she said, voice steady and completely professional. ‘I am afraid Mr Bell is very busy at the moment, may I take a message?’ she continued after a pause. I placed my hands under her gorgeous buttocks and stilled her motion for a second, the tip of my cock still just in her arse. I shifted my hands to grasp her hips and then pulled her down hard onto my cock, filling her arse with cock until my balls were squashed up against her.

‘Yeeeeesssss…….Mr Forres. I will make sure he gets your message.’ She said, her voice giving almost no hint of what she was doing, or having done to her. As soon as she hung up I stood, my cock still in her and pushed her face down on my desk. Without a pause I started to fuck in to her ruthlessly, forcing a grunt from her with each thrust. It wasn’t long merter escort before her lovely arse milked a satisfying orgasm from me and I felt my cum flood into the depths of her bowels.

My slut knew better than to move without instructions. I sat back in my chair, buttoning my trousers, watching my sperm start leaking from her anus and trickle down over her wet cunt lips. When I had tidied myself up I instructed her to stand and dress. When she tugged her skirt down and put her blouse back on she cleaned up any mess we had left on the desk, then stood awaiting instruction. She already knew that, whilst she cleaned my desk or carpet after being used, she didn’t clean herself in the same way. I liked the idea that my cum would leak out of her whilst she worked, staining her clothes, drying on her skin. I liked that the evidence of her sluttiness would be obvious to everyone in the office. I think she also liked the idea, judging from the hardness of her nipples. I felt my cock start to harden again when I saw them standing out hard and enticing under the thin silk of her blouse. The sight reminded me of an important appointment we both had.

‘Get those letters typed up and returned to me after lunch.’ I ordered. ‘Bring them to me then for review.’ After a pause I continued. ‘Then at 5.00pm I want you to return to this office. At that time we will continue with some of your “modifications”‘

In her eyes I saw interest and curiosity, not the fear that might have been expected. After her first month, following her first ‘pay day’ experience I had sent Davina to a clinic to have her pubic hair permanently removed by laser treatment. Her pussy would now be hairless, naked and exposed the way I liked it, for all time. The moment was right to proceed with the next modifications, part of a process that would mould her into my perfect slut.

When she returned promptly at two she entered my office with her eyes downcast, as inclination and training dictated. But I saw her risk a glance at the man in my office as she closed the door. This was hardly surprising as Jezza was an imposing presence. That was before the leather trousers and sleeveless denim jacket made him stand out in the business environment of my office. Six foot and four inches tall, his shaved bald head was covered with the tattooed blue quarters and white cross of a Saltire. This was just the start of his body art. Intricate and beautifully inked designs covered his torso, exposed by his jacket. A Chinese dragon covered his chest and its tail wrapped around his waist before the end disappeared into the waistband of his tight trousers. Piercings protruded from almost every visible part of his body, eyebrow, septum, lip, even a rod through the bridge of his nose.

Without introduction I ordered Davina, ‘Strip to your stockings and sit in my chair.’

I was curious to see how she would react in this situation and wasn’t going to do anything to reassure her. In fact, in these circumstances, I wasn’t sure that I would be able to do so.

As she obeyed my orders Jezza opened up a large tool box that sat on my desk şişli escort and pulled on thin, blue latex gloves. Once Davina was in the chair I casually said to the tall man.

‘Just the nipples and labia today. I think we’ll leave the clit for another day.’

Out of the corner of my eye I watched for her reaction and was gratified to see shock and fear in her face. Then I was further gratified when I saw those emotions disappear, replaced with a look of what can only be described as determination. Whatever was asked, she was prepared to obey.

Behind her back Jezza took out a syringe and filled it with what I knew to be local anaesthetic. Gently he grasped the girl’s breast. It was only at the last minute that she saw the needle and, whilst she gasped slightly, she didn’t pull away. She bit her bottom lip when the needle slid in and closed her eyes, but she did not cry out. By keeping her eyes closed she didn’t see the process repeated with the other breast and only the tiniest flinch showed that she felt it.

She opened her eyes, breathing heavily and rapidly, when she heard Jezza say, ‘I’ll leave those to numb up properly, whilst I do her flaps.’

He chuckled crudely as he took the piercing device from his box of tricks. I saw puzzlement on Davina’s face at first, and then smiled as I saw realisation dawn on her slowly. There was a small, involuntary movement that drew her knees and thighs together for an instant. Then she stopped and surprised me. She surprised me by looking at directly at me, only for an instant, before dropping her gaze and relaxing, letting her legs part as wide as they would go. In that flashing second she had looked at me I saw so much. I saw that she knew what I was doing, that I was testing her. I also saw in that glance that she was determined to pass this test — and any other that I set her. After such a reaction a little part of me felt small that I felt the need to test her in this way.

Jezza looked up at me as he kneeled between her legs and announced. ‘Very hard to use a local on flaps.’ I winced slightly at his continued crudeness. But I appreciated his experience and artistry, so I nodded. ‘Better just to do it without’ he said, ‘Quick and sharp, over before they know it.’ I nodded again.

‘Carry on.’ I instructed and leaned forward to watch.

The machine snapped shut twice within a few seconds. Davina flinched in her seat, face screwed up as the pain radiated through her body. As she calmed down Jezza was already inserting the thick gold rings through the newly formed holes in each labia, clamping them shut with small, precise tools.

Then he stood and gently jabbed a needle into one nipple then the other. Having done it slightly harder and getting no reaction he decided that the breasts were sufficiently numbed. Davina closed her eyes again and turned her head away. The machine clicked twice loudly and she flinched each time, but only at the noise.

When she risked a glance again Jezza was threading a disk of metal with a hole in it, like a washer, over her nipple. Then he slid a silver rod through the fatih escort piercing in her nipple and screwed a cap on its threaded end. It had the immediate effect of making the nipple stand proud. He duplicated the effect on the other nipple before straightening up. He handed me a small plastic bag of similar disks.

‘Add one of these about once a week.’ He advised. ‘She’s got lovely big nipples to start with so I’d say that within a year, at that rate, you could stretch them to about an inch in length. Maybe an inch and a half.’

Then he grinned. ‘I hope I get a chance to come back and see them. That is a lush little tart you’ve got yourself there Mr Bell.’

I smiled at the truth of his words. ‘I know it only too well.’

Then I continued. ‘You done your usual excellent work Jezza, and you shall have your usual tip.’ I looked at the girl and ordered her. ‘Suck Jezza’s cock until he comes in your mouth Davina.’

I saw her shift in her chair and wince a little. Taking a little pity on her I added. ‘You can stay in the chair, no need to kneel.’

Jezza hurriedly fumbled with his trousers and took out his cock. I smiled once again when I saw Davina’s eyes go wide as she caught sight of the tattooist’s metalwork adorned cock. The Prince Albert under his cock head and the ring through the slit and out the top were not something you see every day. Perhaps they put the girl off a little, perhaps the piercings hurt? I could tell this blowjob was not one of her best. But I could also tell from Jezza’s groans that he didn’t know any different and her fantastic technique was overcoming any lack of enthusiasm. As a result it wasn’t long before he was spewing a load of sperm into her throat. I watched fascinated as her Adam’s Apple bobbed whilst she swallowed it all. Jezza zipped up and packed his tool kit and made some last checks on his handiwork before departing.

When he was gone I ordered my slut to stand. She did so, slightly unsteady for a second. The gold rings that now adorned her labia bumped together with a tiny clink. Opening a desk drawer I took out a couple of small items. One was a small but heavy padlock. I slipped the loop of it through the rings then, before I clamped it shut, I added the second item. It was a delicate silver bell on a ring. I checked that it hung freely then stood face to face with my precious office slut. I took her chin in my hand and raised her face till she looked at me.

‘Now you are more than symbolically locked up for my use. Every morning, when you bring me my coffee, I will unlock you so you are available to me. Last thing in the afternoon you will come to me to be locked again.’ Then I smiled an ever so slightly evil smile and added.

‘There is a second reason. Every so often I’ll make the padlock heavier. Slowly we’ll stretch your pussy lips to match your ever enlarging nipples. I want to mould you into the form of my perfect slut. I want to exaggerate your sexual characteristics in the way that I like.’ I let go of her chin and told her. ‘Get dressed. You may go home. I am finished with you for today.’

There was a third reason, which I didn’t tell her. It wasn’t important but it amused me. Whilst she dressed the bell jingled gently. As she walked out of my office I heard it still. I started to smile and hum an old tune about a ‘fine lady’ known for ‘riding a cock horse.’

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Ultimate Poker Surrender

No Comments

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

Jerk Off

(This story is pure fantasy. Please enjoy it as such.)

————————————–

To fully enjoy this story, it would help to have a little knowledge about the game of Texas Hold Em and the adult web site, Ultimate Surrender.

————————————–

The National Poker Tour was off to a pretty good start. They kicked things off with a tournament in Las Vegas, drawing over 500 players, with popular poker pro Phil Ivey taking the crown. Other tournaments in Reno, Scottsdale, Albuquerque and Los Angeles saw some good poker with other Ivey making the final table in Scottsdale and LA. This week he wouldn’t get a chance however, as it was Ladies Only at the Bay 101 Casino in San Jose.

Four hundred of the top female poker players in the country paid five thousand dollars per seat to compete for the top prize of one million dollars. After three days of great No-Limit Texas Hold ‘Em Poker, the field was whittled down to six players.

Three poker pros and three amateurs made up the final table led by the top-ranked female player in the world, Vanessa Selbst, who was second in chips, with just over five million. Jennifer Harman was another experienced professional, but entered the final table in fifth place with about a million chips in her stack.

Leading the way with just under eight million chips was the part-time movie star part-time poker pro Mimi Rogers. She got most of her chips in the biggest hand of the tournament, knocking out French poker pro Gaelle Baumann with quads over quads, her four jacks beating Gaelle’s nines.

The three amateurs at the table have proved that they belong. Atlanta’s Suzy Stanton charmed everyone with her southern charm, that is everyone except poker pro Kristy Gazes, who the cute redhead knocked out in seventh, keeping Kristy from making the final table. Suzy was in third place with three million chips.

Right behind Suzy in fourth place was local blackjack dealer Carla Stone. Carla was a brash blonde 50-year-old that had nothing up her sleeve except some colorful tattoos. The ink covered every inch of her arms from her wrists all the way up over her shoulder, to her collar. Carla had two million in chips.

Another local player was in last place, earning a seat at the table when Gazes was sent packing. Carrie Gunderson was a former adult film star that specialized in nude wrestling. The short-haired blonde looked more like an athletic tomboy than a porn star. Looks can be deceiving. Carrie was one of the most popular performers across the bay at the adult website, Ultimate Surrender performing as Vendetta.

Vendetta, or Carrie, had the short stack with about 600,000 chips.

When the players were introduced, Carla decided to give a little good natured ribbing to Carrie, unmasking her former life as a lesbian porn star.

“Should we call you Carrie or Vendetta?”

Carrie turned beet red, smiling at the reference to her days wrestling nude at Ultimate Surrender.

“I guess the secret is out” she answered quietly, looking down at her cards, trying to avoid eye contact.

Suzy had no idea what she was talking about.

“Vendetta? Who’s Vendetta?”

Vanessa however, knew exactly what Carla meant, recognizing Carrie as Vendetta from some of her X-rated videos.

“I thought you looked familiar.”

Vanessa was blushing also, embarrassed to admit that she recognized the former adult performer.

“Familiar from what? Are you famous?” Suzy asked, clueless about Carrie’s past life.

Mimi, the elder spokesperson at the table at age 67 chimed in, surprising everyone else with her knowledge on the subject.

“Vendetta from Ultimate Surrender. You’re looking at a former champion.”

Everyone started laughing, with the exception of Suzy, who sat there with a quizzical look on her face. It turned into a gossip table, with Carrie being the topic of conversation. The quiet muscular blonde didn’t volunteer any information, letting the others figure it out for themselves.

The poker game took a backseat to the conversation about Carrie’s past that apparently wasn’t so secret.

“So Mimi, you a big fan of Ultimate Surrender?” Carla asked, not willing to drop the subject.

“I’ve seen a few videos. My hubby was a big fan.”

Vanessa got in on the talk too, asking Mimi if she saw any of Vendetta’s matches, winking across the table at Carrie, for using her old stage name.

“I’ve seen a few. I was more of an Isis Love backer” Mimi responded, matter-of-factly, while smiling at Carrie.

“But Vendetta destroyed her.”

Carla followed that up by letting everyone know her favorite nude wrestler.

“I liked the Pirate. I think her name was Nina.”

Suzy spoke up, thinking she finally knew what they were talking about.

“Nina Hartley?”

“No. Nina Hartley was never involved in this.”

Vanessa was practically scolding Suzy, surprised that she never heard of Ultimate Surrender. Apparently the openly gay poker player was into her lesbian erotica. She gave her two cents worth on her favorite performer too.

“I liked Syd Blakovich. She had so much energy.”

Carla: Ataköy travesti “The Hungarian Nightmare”

Mimi: “She had a nice butt, too.”

Jennifer: “How about Dragon Lily?”

Vanessa: “Ooh! Look at Jen! Chiming in with some Ultimate Surrender talk.”

Suzy: This is no fun! Everyone’s seen it but me. I’ve never even heard of Ultimate Surrender.”

Carla: Carrie, didn’t you lose to the Dragon?”

Carrie: “We split…..I’m all in.”

Carrie finally broke her silence at the same time she put all her chips in the middle. It was almost as if she was giving up just so she didn’t have to talk about her past as a nude wrestler. The thing is, she had a pretty decent hand, with pocket Jacks, J❤️ J♠️, but not a lot of chips.

Suzy called her with an A♣️ 10♣️.

Carrie’s poker life was at stake, but her hand held up, doubling her chip stack.

Poor Suzy. She wasn’t part of the conversation at the table, and just lost a bunch of poker chips.

As Carrie raked in her chips, the talk switched back to Ultimate Surrender.

Mimi: “I didn’t think Vendetta ever lost.”

Carla: “Oh, she lost a few. Didn’t you, Carrie?”

Vanessa: “Syd beat her.”

Carrie: “We split too. I’m all in again.”

It was like a repeat of the last hand. Although she had over twice as many chips as last hand, she was still in 6th place.

This time she had pocket Aces, A♠️ A♦️, called by Suzy again, with Q♠️ Q ♣️.

Once again, Carrie’s hand held up and suddenly she jumped up to 3rd place. Suzy dropped to 5th place, just a few chips ahead of Jennifer, with Carla in 4th. Mimi was still chip leader, with Vanessa still a couple million chips behind her, in 2nd place.

Carrie was definitely the VIP at the table. Her chip stack was growing, as was the interest in her short porn career.

Jennifer: “Did you just do lesbian stuff, or did you do guys too?”

Carrie: “Just girls.”

Carla: “Who needs guys when you have a strapon?”

Mimi: “The strapon play was the best part of that site.”

Suzy: “Oh My God! You fucked other girls with a strapon?”

Carla: “Did she ever!”

Vanessa: “And sometimes she was on the receiving end.”

Jennifer: “Have you ever used a strapon, Vanessa?”

Vanessa (smiling coyly): “Maybe?”

Mimi: “Oh, please!”

Carla: “I think we all know the answer.”

Vanessa: “Why does everyone assume that all lesbian sex involves a strapon?”

Suzy: “So you haven’t used one?”

Vanessa (with an embarrassed grin): “I didn’t say that.”

Jennifer: “Oh yeah. Vanessa has definitely strapped it on.”

Carla: “I don’t see what the big deal is. I’d love to try it sometime.”

Suzy: “I’ve used one before. Not with another woman. But I’ve used one.”

Mimi: “On your husband?”

Carla: “I can just picture you wearing a big strapon dildo. Sexy!”

Suzy: “Yes, we did some experimenting once. It was really awkward.”

Vanessa: “It’s not that bad if you get one that fits.”

Jennifer: “I KNEW IT!”

Everyone started chuckling at the strapon gossip, even Carrie, who had been pretty quiet up to that point. The fact that Vanessa accidentally let it slip that she’s used one before, kinda got everybody giggling.

Back to the poker game. Suzy had been losing her chips all day, and found her tournament life on the line in a hand against Vanessa. The cute 40-year-old redhead tried to bluff a big hand, turning over 8♦️9♦️. She was a big underdog to Vanessa, holding 10♣️ 10❤️. She needed to see some diamonds on the flop.

The flop came up K♦️ 8♠️ 3♦️. Not bad for Suzy. She needed a diamond, an 8, or a 9 to stay alive.

Q♠️ on the turn, 6♥️ on the river.

It wasn’t meant to be as the final two cards were no help, knocking the southern belle out in 6th place.

Everyone was sad to see Suzy go. She brought a lot of energy to the table. But every time someone got knocked out, that put a little more money in everybody else’s pockets. It was the nature of the game.

Vanessa closed the gap on Mimi for the chip lead, with Carrie, Carla and Jennifer quite a bit behind.

Things were starting to sort themselves out as far as the poker went, with Mimi and Vanessa holding about 70% of the chips. Still the conversation at the table revolved around Vendetta, lesbian porn, and strapon sex.

Carla: “So Mimi, how about you? Have you ever done any lesbian scenes?”

Jennifer: “Yeah, you seem like someone that would appeal to both sexes.”

Carla: “I’d do ya!”

Vanessa: “We know YOU would. You’d do just about anybody.”

Carla: “I’m just saying. Mimi is a beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t?”

Mimi: “I appreciate the kind words, Carla.”

Jennifer: “So Mimi, yes or no? Any lesbian scenes?

Mimi: “Not really. A few kisses.”

Carla: ” Really? That’s it?”

Mimi: “I did do a nude lesbian scene once.”

Carla: “Oh My God! That is so Hot!”

Vanessa: “With who?”

Jennifer: “Yeah. We want details.”

Mimi: “I don’t recall. It was a long time ago.”

Carrie: “Denise Crosby. Weekend in Miami.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt Ataköy travestiileri when Carrie finally decided to chime in. Not only did she speak up, but she actually knew the movie scene Mimi was talking about. And by her devilish smirk, and the way she looked across the table at Miss Rogers, it was more than just a kissing scene.

Jennifer: “Wait. You’ve seen it?”

Carla: “I’ve never heard of that movie. Who’s Denise Crosby?”

Vanessa: “She played Lt. Yar on Star Trek.”

Carla: “Oh her! I’d do her, too.”

Jennifer: “We know. We know.”

Vanessa: “Wow! Denise Crosby. I always kinda had a thing for her.”

Carrie: “It looked like Mimi had a thing for her, too.”

Jennifer (leering at Mimi): “Just a kiss, huh?”

Mimi: “Well maybe it was a little more than that. Like I said it was a long time ago.”

Carrie: “I’d say Denise going down on you in the sauna would qualify as a little more.”

Carla: “NO WAY!! REALLY? That is so hot.”

Vanessa: “How did I miss that movie?”

Mimi: “I think it went straight to video.”

Mimi (under her breath): “Thank God.”

Jennifer: “She went down on you for real?”

Vanessa: “Wait! Don’t tell me! I haven’t seen it yet.”

Mimi: “It was just a movie. We were acting.”

Carrie: “Well, you are a great actress.”

Carla: “I don’t know if I could do it in a sauna. I get way to sweaty.”

Carrie: “That’s what made it such a great scene.”

Vanessa: “Don’t spoil it.”

Jennifer: “Yeah, I’ve gotta see it too.”

Mimi: “I wouldn’t waste your time. Can we get back to playing cards?”

Apparently Mimi didn’t like being on the hot seat. It was okay when it was Carrie, but the lovely actress was getting tired of talking about some if her past roles. On the other hand, Carrie seemed to perk up, now that the gossip had switched over to Mimi. It didn’t hurt that her chip stack had grown also, and she moved up into 3rd place.

Mimi got her wish as the focus moved back to the card game. Poker pros Jennifer Harman and Vanessa Selbst were involved in a big hand. With a flop of A♦️ J♣️ 10♦️, Jennifer moved all-in with her A♣️ 10♣️. She found herself behind when Vanessa called her after flopping a straight, turning over K♥️ Q♥️. The cute poker pro needed an ace or a 10, or two running clubs, or she’d be out in 5th place.

Jennifer had more outs when 5♣️ popped up on the turn, giving her a flush draw. Her luck ran out however, when a harmless 6❤️ came on the river.

The field was down to four, as everyone said their goodbyes to the popular blonde poker pro. Mimi was still the chip leader with 8,300,000. Vanessa was closing in on her with 7,800,000. Carrie had moved up to 3rd place with 3,150,000, leaving Carla as the short stack with 750,000 chips.

Jennifer had barely left the game room, when the girl talk started up again.

Carla: “So do you think that Jennifer is into girls? You know she’s not with Marco anymore.”

Mimi: “Let me guess. You’d do her too.”

Carla (giggling): “Am I that obvious?”

Vanessa: “How about you, Carla? What’s your story? Are you into girls?”

Carrie: “I thought you were married.”

Vanessa: “You do know it is possible to be both. I’m married.”

Carla: “I’m a happily married bi-sexual. What can I say? I like to double my chances of getting laid.”

Mimi: “Wow, you really are a horny little slut.”

Carrie: “What’s hubby have to say about that?”

Carla: “We have an understanding.”

Vanessa: “You mean fucking around on each other?”

Carla: “I mean I like to fuck, he likes to watch.”

Mimi: “So you bring men AND women into your bed.”

Carla: “Something like that. You’ve never been involved in a threesome before?”

Mimi: “I like my relationships one on one.”

Carrie: “If you could invite someone into your bed, who would it be?”

Vanessa: “No picking Denise Crosby.”

Mimi: “Does it have to be a woman?”

Carla: “Anyone you want. Make it a celebrity, or at least someone we all know.”

Mimi: “Hmmm. That’s a tough one.”

Carrie: “I’d volunteer, but I’m probably not famous enough.”

Mimi: “I’ll go with Denzel Washington.”

Carla: “Ooh, good choice.”

Vanessa: “And for a woman?”

Mimi: “Scarlett Johansson”

Carla: Yeah, I’d do her too.”

Carrie: “Is there anyone you wouldn’t do?”

Carla: “I’d probably say no to Rosie O’Donnell. I can’t stand her.”

Mimi: “We know you’d do just about everybody else. Who’s your top choice?”

Carla: “I’d have to go with Kat Dennings of Two Broke Girls. She has such luscious red lips.”

Vanessa: “Not to mention her magnificent tits.”

Carla: “Oh, you’re a tit girl? Who are you inviting into your bedroom, Dolly Parton?”

Mimi: “Don’t knock Dolly. She’s an angel.”

Vanessa: “I don’t know. I can’t get the picture of Lieutenant Yar going down on Mimi, out of my head. Can I pick Denise Crosby?”

Carla: “No.”

Carrie: “You could pick Mimi, if you really are into magnificent breasts.”

Mimi: “Hey, be nice. Remember we’ve all seen your firm little titties.”

Vanessa: travesti Ataköy “I’m going with Jodie Foster. Smart and beautiful.”

Mimi: “Mmm, I love Jodie.”

Carla: Yeah, I’d probably do her too.”

Carrie: “And for a guy?”

Vanessa: “No men for me. I’m keeping my gold star rating.”

Mimi: “Gold star?

Carrie: “It’s a rating for lesbians that have only had sex with other women.”

Carla: “So are you a gold star too? You seem to know a lot about it.”

Carrie: “As a matter of fact I am.”

Vanessa: “So let’s hear your choice?”

Carrie: “I’ve always liked Mariska Hargitay. I’m a big Law & Order fan.”

Carla: “Oooh! Good choice! I would definitely do her?”

Vanessa: “Wow! Vendetta fucking Olivia Benson with a strapon. Wouldn’t that be something!”

With all the talk about their fantasies of who they would and wouldn’t do, the game was becoming secondary. Carla was keeping the chat going, to buy time while her chip stack was dwindling. She finally put all of her chips in the middle with 8♣️ 8 ♥️. Not the best hand, but she was getting desperate.

Vanessa called her with K♥️ Q❤️. Carla was at risk of going out in 4th place.

The flop came out 2❤️ Q♠️ 2♦️. Vanessa took the lead with a pair of Queens. Carla needed an 8 to survive. The turn was no help with J♠️, and neither was the river, with a 4❤️. The sassy tattooed blackjack dealer was eliminated.

She gave everyone a hug, wishing them luck. As she left, she joked about their table talk.

“I’d like to stick around girls, but I’ve got a hot date with Kat Dennings! Maybe I’ll have to stop and buy a strapon dildo on the way!”

Carla made a pretty colorful exit, but it didn’t stop the others from talking about her. Mimi commented that she knew Carla would do everyone at the table, but wanted to know what the girls thought of her. If they would “DO” Carla, like she so eloquently put it.

“Nope!” replied Vanessa without hesitation.

Carrie also said no, explaining that she wasn’t her type. Too much ink, too loud, and too self-absorbed.

“I prefer the quiet types.”

She answered while seductively gazing over at Vanessa. There was some chemistry between the two stoic lesbians, who seemed to have a lot in common. Mimi picked up on their connection also. The beautiful 67-year-old movie star smiled at the two bashful lesbians, trying to put everyone at ease.

“Well here we are. Three of Lieutenant Yar’s biggest fans, battling it out for a million bucks and a poker bracelet.”

Her message wasn’t lost on Vanessa, and neither was Carrie’s flirtatious gaze. The short-haired brunette answered back with her own take on the final three, while looking back across at the blonde tomboy.

“Yes indeed. Two gold stars and one movie star.”

Vanessa had a right to be a little giddy. She had taken over the lead, with over half the chips in front of her. The top-ranked player had 10,700,000. Mimi still had a sizable stack to match her sizable rack, in 2nd place with 7,600,000. Carrie was in a distant 3rd place with 1,700,000.

Vanessa went into bullying mode, raising every hand, knowing Mimi needed to play conservatively to outlast Carrie, and go heads up. Mimi was sick of being run over, and even though Carrie only had a few more hands to go before being eliminated, she finally re-raised Vanessa, going all in when she was dealt K❤️ K♠️. Vanessa figured she was behind, but called the beautiful actress anyway, with Q♣️ J♣️.

Mimi was ahead, and ready to take a commanding chip lead if her hand held up. The flop came out 10♦️ 4♣️ 6❤️. A great flop for Mimi. She smiled nervously, knowing she wasn’t in the clear quite yet.

Things got much more interesting after a 9♣️ came up on the turn. Vanessa now had a flush draw and an up and down straight draw that could win the hand and knock Mimi out in 3rd place.

Carrie was an interested observer as well, with a lot riding on the hand. A win by Vanessa would guarantee her an extra two hundred thousand dollars. Mimi knew what was at stake as well. She wasn’t too concerned about the difference between second and third, but realized that winning this hand would put her in the driver’s seat to win the tournament, and pocket the million dollar prize.

The final card was shown, and it was the dagger for Mimi Rogers. The 5♣️ gave Vanessa a flush and the winning hand. The classy actress didn’t show a lot of emotion, smiling graciously as she was knocked out of the tournament in 3rd place, shipping all of her chips over to Vanessa. She slowly got up, greeted by an apologetic Carrie, who was almost in tears, embarrassed for cashing in on Mimi’s misfortune. Her good friend Vanessa gave her an awkward hug as well, after forcing her out of the game.

Mimi exited to a nice ovation from the gallery, waving to her fans, with a fake smile. Deep down inside, it was killing her. She played well all week, but ended up the victim of the wrong card at the wrong time.

It was time for Vanessa and Carrie to go heads up. The ex-porn star knew she was a huge underdog, not only in chips, but in experience and poker skill as well. She pushed her small stack of chips in the middle, without seeing her cards. She was content with a second place, and realistic about her chances of winning. Carrie didn’t see a need to be overly dramatic with her strategy. She needed to double up a bunch of times in a row to overtake the poker pro.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,

Scratching an Itch Ch. 03

No Comments

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

Bent Over

Elise——————————-

With my hands immersed in warm sudsy water as I washed the dishes, I took time to enjoy the panoramic view of our backyard through the new bow window we had recently installed. The sun poured in through the window lending a healthy glow to my skin along with its warmth.

There were several pots of herbs on the shelf at the bottom of the window which I had watered earlier in the day. As I glanced down at them, I was reminded that it had been warm today and I needed to remember to do the same for the plants outside. I made a mental note to take care of them tomorrow.

My view was drawn back outside by the red, purple, blue, and white hollyhocks standing tall against the fence at the back of the yard.

Tom and I had gone for a different theme along the left side of the fence where the edge of the grass had been cut in a meandering line that wandered leisurely toward the back. This left a bed along the fence that contained several randomly placed rocks and a variety of low-growing greenery and flowers.

It was a nice backyard. Tom and I had done all of the design and work ourselves. There was more to do, I smiled, wasn’t there always more to do? We wanted to start a vegetable garden in the right rear corner but that would have wait until we had time to do a bit more study.

Despite the warm sun, the rapidly cooling dishwater brought my thoughts back inside. The memory of our adventures during the past weekend scrolled across my mind one more time.

The girls, as I thought of them, were my friends Laura and Miko who had used my husband as their personal sex Fulya travestileri toy while their husbands had been forced to watch on the computer screen at Laura’s house. It had been their way of paying back their husbands for not telling them about having sex with me. Now, it was time to move forward and scratch the persistent itch that I had to be a complete and utter slut for at least one time in my life.

If you haven’t been following along, you may not know that I want to be sexually used by three strangers at the same time. I don’t just want to fuck three men, I want to be ‘airtight’ with cocks in all my holes. But even being fucked ‘airtight’ by three strangers wasn’t enough for me. I wanted those strangers to be black men.

I’m sure that there are sluttier things that a woman can do but, to me, it would be the ultimate submission to allow three black strangers to penetrate all of my holes and use my body for their pleasure. I don’t believe that there is anything that a white woman could do that would shout out ‘slut’, more than that would.

The only problem remaining was to figure out where we were going to get my black lovers and how we could pull this off safely. Fortunately, I now had the encouragement of my husband Tom, his two friends James and Andy, and their wives Laura and Miko. ‘We can do this,’ I thought.

Miko each room had a slightly different décor.

Laura was looking around trying to decide what the theme was for this room and noticed Miko frown slightly. Wondering what was bothering my friend, I asked, “What?”

Miko took a sip of her wine, and after placing Fulya travesti the glass down softly on the table said, “My tits are so sore that I’m not wearing a bra. Tom was more than a little rough with them the other day and they still hurt.”

Laura remembered watching as Tom ruthlessly fucked Miko and used her tits as handles to help as he thrust his cock into her like a pile driver. At the time I remember wishing that I could change places with Miko. “I’m sorry he hurt you, sweetie. We can think of some way to make him pay the next time we see him.”

Miko looked up in shock. “Are you crazy? I’d let him fuck me like that any time he wants to. My husband should take lessons. I haven’t been fucked like that one time in my whole life. I’m not lamenting my sore tits; I’m trying to figure out how to get him to do it again. You should try it. I’ve never cum as hard as I did with Tom!”

Laura simply couldn’t resist the urge to laugh out loud, receiving a funny look from the waitress who had just arrived with their lunches.

As they ate, the conversation kept drifting back to the activities of the weekend. The next step was the wild time Elise wanted to experience with her three black guys. Both girls’ husbands were supposed to be on hand to act as bodyguards.

“I don’t know about you Miko, but I plan to be there. I may even try to get some attention from one or more of those black cocks for myself. James will probably be shocked, but he wouldn’t dare complain.”

Miko nodded her agreement enthusiastically. “Oh yes! That sounds decadent and fun. I bet Andy will shit when he sees Travesti fulya me with a big black cock. Of course, that doesn’t put us any closer to finding our three black men. I hope the guys can think of some way to find them.”

Tom, Andy I feel the same way that Tom does. If you’re going to participate, I want a video.”

Finally, Miko sighed, “Okay. I want in on some of that black cock too, so I guess I don’t have much choice.”

Quickly, before anyone else had time for second thoughts, Tom repeated his instructions. “Okay ladies, I want the three of you to stand over here in front of the couch.”

When all three wives had done as he asked, he realized that the coffee table was in the way, so he pulled it forward, providing more room between it and the couch.

“Okay, guys. Pick a lady and stand behind her, please. There’s no need to push and shove if you don’t get the lady you want. We’ll make sure that each of you has a chance to sample all three of them before we’re done.”

After everyone was settled, Tom said, “I want each of you gentlemen to reach around and play with your partner’s body, fondling her tits and crotch.

Tom took time to get a video of each of the ladies as their black partners thoroughly explored every part of the women’s bodies. Every man started with his partner’s tits but eventually, they all ended with one hand squeezing a breast and the other between their legs.

“Let’s get serious guys. Get those tops off so we can see their tits.” All three men went to work.

Elise’s tits were the first to see the light of day. She was only wearing a tank top without a bra, so all Jamal had to do was raise the top over her head, exposing her tits. Jamal immediately cupped her soft white orbs. As Tom moved in close, Elise leaned her head back, clearly enjoying the attention Jamal was giving to her nipples, as he pinched and pulled on them.

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

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: Etiketler: ,
istanbul travesti istanbul travesti istanbul travesti ankara travesti Moda Melanj kuşadası escort bayan çankaya escort mecidiyeköy escort beylikdüzü escort istanbul escort ankara escort bayan Hacklink Hacklink panel Hacklink panel bursa escort ankara escort Ankara escort bayan Ankara Escort Ankara Escort Rus Escort Eryaman Escort Etlik Escort Sincan Escort Çankaya Escort hurilerim.com Escort Antalya Escort Alanya Escort Antalya Merkez Escort Antalya Otele Gelen Escort Antalya Rus Escort Belek Escort Fethiye Escort Kemer Escort Kepez Escort Konyaaltı Escort beylikdüzü escort antalya rus escort escort keçiören escort etlik escort çankaya escort mamasiki.com bucur.net hayvanca.net lazimlik.net cidden.net Escort bayan Escort bayan escortsme.com anadoluyakasikadin.com kadikoykadin.com atasehirkadin.com umraniyekadin.com bostancikadin.com maltepekadin.com pendikkadin.com kurtkoykadin.com kartalkadin.com istanbulspor.net şişli escort istanbul escort mecidiyeköy escort beşiktaş escort taksim escort fındıkzade escort çapa escort fatih escort topkapı escort escort şişli escort bayan bayrampaşa escort merter escort escort mecidiyeköy bursa escort warez forum Bonus veren siteler Bonus veren siteler ankara travesti By Casino bursa escort görükle escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort ankara escort kayseri escort kuşadası escort kocaeli escort konya escort kütahya escort manisa escort mardin escort mersin escort muğla escort nevşehir escort rize escort sakarya escort samsun escort şanlıurfa escort sivas escort tekirdağ escort trabzon escort tunceli escort uşak escort van escort yalova escort çorlu escort gebze escort gümüşhane escort izmir escort kilis escort kırklareli escort karabük escort karaman escort kars escort kıbrıs escort kırşehir escort malatya escort niğde escort ordu escort osmaniye escort sinop escort tokat escort yozgat escort zonguldak escort