The Porn Story ➤➤ Free Porn Stories & Erotic Stories

Fantasy

Calving Signs – part 3

“You’re having a tea party?” Terri said, sitting at the kitchen table. She itched awkwardly at an exposed leg. Her grey sweats had been nearly destroyed by the work. At her Mom’s suggestion, she was trying out a baggy pair of shorts. After a week it felt a little strange to show any skin, but it did help with the low-level heat that filled the house.
“Book club,” Anne said. She was making canapés. And she had another one of her titillating dresses on, a green one with a white sash. It had a v-neck that plunged to the center of her chest. Two breasts poked out on either side. Terri had hesitated to ask, but they WERE bigger, weren’t they?
“Then what’s the book?”
“We didn’t actually get around to picking one,” Anne admitted. “But that’s why we’re meeting. To pick a book for next week.”
Terri rolled her eyes.
“Your eyes are going to stick like that if you’re not careful,” Anne said.
She rolled a piece of bacon around a fig. Terri nearly drooled. Why was she so hungry, all the time? Did it have anything to do with her newly irrepressible sex drive?
“Good! Then I’ll go around freaking people out with my all-white eyes. It’ll be great,” Terri said. “Who are these women?”
“Oh, you know. Ladies from the neighborhood. Mrs. Pritcher. Mrs. Scoaler. Mrs. Taylor…”
It was a nearly complete list of the prudish, busy-body women that staffed the Calving PTA and spent most of their time disapproving of things.
Terri opened her mouth to say as much, and Anne stuffed a fig in it. It was delicious. Her train of thought plunged off the rails.
“Go take a shower,” Anne directed. “I’ll give you one of my dresses to wear. You, dear daughter, will be serving the tea.”
Terri tried to fight back.
But the fig was stuffed with ricotta. And all she could do was nod.
* * *
Terri closed the bathroom door and examined herself in the mirror.
“Oh geez,” she murmured, to herself.
She was busting out in curves all over. That damn ice cream!
Already her rail-thin body was a memory. No longer could she see three bony ribs floating just underneath her boobs. Now her body was increasingly sleek and well-fed, almost glossy, rippling with a new bounty of curves.
What hadn’t gone to her hips had gone to her boobs. They had inflated like party balloons over the past week, swelling from mere bumps to the honest-to-goodness breasts she had had before college. Her hips were embarrassingly wide, back to the child-bearing country curves she had been so mortified by.
Not that she looked BAD…
“No more ice cream,” she told herself. That had to be it. That stuff was 90% fat. Whatever Reverend Flynn put in it, it was overencouraging the part of her genetic makeup that wanted to be described as “buxom.”
She eased her growing form into the shower. For the first five minutes she dully scrubbed herself.
“Okay, Terri, be honest with yourself,” she said, watching the hot water dribble down a small expanse of honest-to-goodness cleavage.
She was starting to get turned on… by pretty much anything. It wasn’t just at the end of the day, anymore. All morning Terri had caught herself day-dreaming about boys… sex… slutty little outfits she remembered from college…
A few minutes of the torrent of steaming water, and she started feeling red hot. Already her re-inflated nipples were perking up.
Terri eased a finger down to her snatch. She was starting to seriously considering shaving. Considering how much time she was spending down there, her pubic hair was just an irritation.
“No!” her mind told her, dragging her libido to the back of her head. Not now! Tonight. The tea party women would be there any minute!
Terri flipped the dial to ‘freezing’ and waited for the wet tingles to fall away.
It took a very long time.
* * *
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Mrs. Taylor said. She was in her mid-40s, with carefully crafted Mom hair that hadn’t been restyled since 1986. Terri refilled her mug to the brim. She made a face when the older woman couldn’t see.
The whole experience was mortifying. Serving tea. Acting like a… waitress… while the ‘ladies’ gabbed at each other. They all wore tasteful and boring dark-colored dresses, and had their legs crossed.
But what was most embarrassing of all was that she was wearing her Mom’s dress, and that it didn’t fit well. Too loose in the chest. Pinched horribly at the waist. Her two knobby knees stuck out of the bottom.
She had fought back against the heels. Anne had just shrugged and agreed.
Now she felt dumpy and short without them.
“How about The Road?” Anne suggested. “Cormac McCarthy. Oprah recommended it.”
“Oprah recommends lots of things,” Mrs. Pritchard said. She was a woman just starting to sag into old-lady. “It’s all depressing, I hear. End of the world, right?”
Anne looked cheerful. She wore a pattern skirt with a cinched black belt. The flower-covered tanktop was supposed to look demure.
“How about the Time Traveler’s Wife?” Anne tried. “Very romantic.”
“I don’t know. Time travel?” Mrs. Collie said. “It seems very risqué.”
Suddenly Reverend Flynn was there, in his black outfit. He moved quietly, and when he arrived, it was like he carried the church around with him.
All the ladies were very happy to see him.
“Reverend Flynn!” Mrs. Pritchard cooed. “Maybe you could help us pick a book. We’ve been agonizing over it.”
Flynn smiled. At all of them. His gaze lingered on Anne. “I hope you ladies had a chance to try my latest ice cream. With the pralines? You’d be surprised how hard it is to work with nuts.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” Mrs. Collie said, then looked around, suddenly mortified. Everyone else was still looking at Reverend Flynn.
He bit his lip. “I suppose the Bible would be a little clichéd,” he conceded. “How about the Invisible Man? Ellison? Lovely, thought-provoking book. I kept a copy with me in Korea.”
Terri nearly dropped the tea kettle. Flynn’s eyes glanced over at her. Then they noticed the poorly-fitted dress, and took a quick survey of the dark-blonde girl. Terri blushed.
There was a very awkward silence. There was no way Flynn could know that at least half the attendees had tried to remove the book from AP English. Right?
“Yeesssssss,” Mrs. Pritchard said, carefully. “I think we can do that. A change of pace. And I know we all have copies.”
Flynn beamed. “You can borrow mine if you’re missing out. I’ll see you ladies some other time.”
They all watched him go. Eyes, Terri noticed, locked on his rear end.
Mrs. Taylor snapped her fingers. “Oh! Anne. Dear. I quite forgot. You know I live next door to the Parrish family? Mr. Parrish has been having such a rough time with his son ever since Linda passed away. I heard that your daughter was back in town, and I thought she could get him out of the house.”
Terri had missed most of that, watching Flynn leap up the stairs. Had he really been… checking her out?
Anne considered this. “I think I could spare her, for a night,” she conceded. “It’ll be good to get her out, too.”
Wait, what?
They were setting her up on a… date? While she was right here? Had she just stumbled into a 19th century novel? Terri spun around.
Eight eyes looked at her. Terri opened her mouth, and shut it again, as they looked over her body and checked it for suitability. She clutched the tea kettle to her chest, and nearly burned her boobs.
“I’ll tell him Friday at 8? It’ll be a huge help. The man needs some time to himself,” Mrs. Taylor said.
“And you’ll help him have some time to himself?” Mrs. Collie said. Her eyes went wide. She snapped her fingers to her mouth. But the others just giggled. Including her own Mother.
And Mrs. Taylor.
“Terri?” Anne said, and Terri got ready to turn her down. A blind date, set up by a.. coven of meddling old women? No!
“Can you refill the tea pot, please?”
* * *
The fight hadn’t gone like Terri had expected.
She had told her Mom, flat-out, that there was no way in Hell, Heaven, and Earth that she was going on a date with some boy she didn’t know and didn’t want to know. Terri had let herself start slow, with a list of reasons why female slavery was illegal, then built up to a hissing denunciation of chores, dishes, and in general being treated like the maid.
Usually Anne gave as good as she got, until both girls were red-faced, shrieking, and panting for breath. Then Terri would run upstairs, slam the door five or six times, and sulk.
Instead, Anne had just sat at the kitchen table, radiant behind her sharp-rimmed reading glasses, and calmly tapped the surface with a pen.
All she had said was “But you look so much better, Terri.”
Terri had deflated like a popped bag of air. Even the run downstairs had felt forced and unnecessary. She hadn’t even bothered to slam the door.
Instead, she ran right to the bathroom mirror.
She DID look better. Her figure had swelled in all the right places, accentuating hips and thighs Terri hadn’t known she had. Not to mention a steadily increasing bustline, even now outlining her old High School t-shirt. But more importantly, her face was bright and healthy, and her hair had grown lustrous and bouncy once again.
Anne knocked on the door. “We’re going shopping,” she said. “Into town.”
Terri took a deep breath for the next salvo.
Instead, unbidden and unasked for, an image of a bright red dress faded through her head. It was strapless, and cut low enough to show off her new assets. She shook her head to clear it out. That just changed the color to green and cut three inches off the hemline.
“Alright,” she said, meekly. and turned back to the mirror.
For a trip to town, a t-shirt and jeans just wasn’t going to do it.
Terri licked her lips and felt them tingle.
* * *
On Monday, Colleen slammed the front door shut when she arrived home.
Neal was in the living room, sitting cross-legged and playing some video game.
“Hey,” he said, eyes locked on the screen. “Welcome home. How was your day?”
“Terrible. Very bad. We’re getting regulatory pushback from the State, and the entire factory needs… can you look at me when I’m talking?”
The petite girl wore dun-colored slacks and a sheath-like white blouse. “Did you do anything today? Besides video games?”
“Dinner’s ready,” Neal said, meekly.
He waved at the table. A chunk of white chicken and boil-in-bag rice. “I made some phone calls, but nobody needs a web designer in this town,” her husband said.
Dinner was rubbery. Afterwards, Colleen stripped off her work clothes and slid into a grey pair of pants and a tanktop.
“Dishes first,” Neal reminded her, as she picked up the remote.
“Dishes.. you’ve been home all day! I’ve been out there…”
Colleen took a deep breath.
That pastor had recommended it, Reverend something or another.
“Dishes first,” she allowed. That HAD been the deal.
Behind her, while she was up to her elbows in pans, the sounds of video games tinkled.
Colleen was ready to turn around and spit fire when the music stopped, she heard feet padding over….
And then Neal’s warm, strong hands were caressing her backside.
Colleen nearly bit her tongue.
“Thanks for all your hard work, honey,” he said, and then returned to the game.
The manager just stood there.
What had just happened?
Something about her husband’s grip had sent sparks shimmering through her rear end. Her whole body tingled with droplets of pleasure. She could still feel the heat of him, fading away.
Her snatch suddenly glowed cherry red.
* * *
On Tuesday, she did the dishes without a single word. Neal seemed pleasantly surprised.
That strange pleasure had been in the back of her mind all day long.
Twice she had lost her train of thought during a meeting. The first time, she had caught her staff—all men—watching one of the pneumatic secretaries walking out of the room. The girl had impractical heels on, and a skirt that rode up with each swaying step. Just watching the shimmering rear had caused her to simply… trail off.
The second time, she had shifted in her chair, and felt an echo of that odd, fun feeling when she put pressure on her ass.
Colleen realized, with sharp surprise, that she had been looking forward to doing the dishes all day long.
When Neal sat back on the floor she craned her head back and watched him from over the sink.
“Hey, Neal?” She called over, softly. He paused.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for everything,” she cooed.
Neal smiled and got up. Colleen stuck her butt out in eager anticipation. And—yes!—when he approached, he put those same sexy hands back on her sensitive ass.
This time they stroked up and down. Blasts of sexy fun shot through her mind. Rippling through her head, getting her hot. What was going on? Her butt had never been a big deal. But now all she could think about was getting it touched… fondled… showing it off…
Colleen moaned in the back of her throat. “Don’t stop that,” she pleaded.
“Stop what?”
“Your… butt massage. It’s… relaxing.”
“Is it?” Neal sounded surprised. But it kept those heavy hands locked on her rear end. This time they softly climbed up and down. Colleen closed her eyes.
“Yeah… I mean.. I’m under a lot of stress,” she said. God, the feelings were starting to climb up her pussy. How long had it been for them? Three weeks? Longer?
“Always happy to massage your rear end,” Neal said.
“It makes dishes a lot more fun,” Colleen said, and sighed, happily.
* * *
On Wednesday, Colleen crept off during lunch and bought a brand new skirt. It was floral yellow, and tight, with a feminine little zipper up the side. And a new bra, since the existing one was getting tight.
This time, when her colleagues watched the bouncing asses of the new secretaries, she just smiled. It was hard to blame them, after all. The girls had round, padded rear ends, pertly displayed in tight jeans or tiny skirts. Any man would admire them. And would want to come up behind, put their hands around, and rub a hard, insistent cock up against the back entrance.
It was only natural.
Colleen felt like an old woman in her usual black pants. All she could think about was the slippery new thing in her bag. She had spent over twenty minutes just looking at herself in the mirror.
This time her husband met her at the door. She gave him a burning, needy kiss and immediately disappeared into the bathroom.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” he called out, sometime later.
Colleen emerged.
She felt hot, coursing with jets of heat, barely constrained underneath a good-to-go skirt and a rippling white blouse. Neal blinked, uncertain.
“I, ah, cooked ribs,” he said.
During dinner Colleen just sat and tried to listen to her man. What he had done. How the futile job hunt was going. Anything on his mind. Underneath the table her left hand circled on the outside of a wet pair of panties.
Just sitting down was starting to get her hot, putting pressure on the warm button that had climbed into her underwear.
“Is everything okay?” Neal said, finally.
“Oh, yeah!” she said, bobbing her head. Her fingers were starting to dance, now.
“What do you want to do after dinner?” he said. “I was thinking I could maybe light some candles… or…”
“Dishes,” Colleen said, firmly. “I want to do dishes.”
Her knees felt weak even before she stood in front of the sink. Neal waited behind her, scratching his head.
“Are you sure you want to do dishes in that skirt?” he asked. “It’s brand new, right?”
“Don’t you like it?” Colleen said. Her voice dripped sweet sugar. She stuck her rear out, towards him. It outlined every crease and curve in the fabric.
“Well, yeah,” Neal said. “I thought maybe later..”
“Do you want to.. touch it?” Colleen said. “You can stroke it and touch it and have… fun with it. If you want.”
Neal shook his head. “Colleen, what…”
“Come on, Neal,” Colleen said. She couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice. She could feel herself dribbling onto her panties. “Isn’t it a nice ass? Don’t you like your wifie’s tender little butt?”
“Yeah, but..”
“So come on and touch me!”
Her guy put his warm hand on her rear. This time Colleen moaned, thickly, and leaned forwards against the sink. The new fabric caressed and kneaded her tightly toned butt, and her body shook with the sensation. She tried to work on the dish in her hand, but the way she was trembling, it would probably shatter in half.
“Come on, get the skirt out of the way,” she said, casting a hot look backwards.
Soon it was just a belt of fabric around her waist. Colleen shivered when the open air hit her ass, and again when it climbed inside her wet panties. Neal was breathing fast now, getting into the unabashed groping. His hands started to get rough, running over her soft skin.
There was someone moaning, and Colleen realized it was her.
Soon Colleen’s panties were bunched around her ankles, and she was bent over the sink. Her tits nearly hit the water, and everything smelled like soap. Her husband rubbed with one hand just outside her dripping slit, the other hand still running up and down her butt.
Then it disappeared. Colleen looked back just in time to see her man reappear with one of the kitchen chairs.
“What..?” she said, muzzily. Thinking wasn’t easy. Most of her thoughts concentrated on the needy emptiness just inside of her pussy.
“I need a better angle,” Neal explained.
Then his fingers disappeared up her cunt. They searched, found her clit, and plunged in and out.
Colleen’s feet left the floor. She balanced like a top on the side of the counter, screeching as orgasm after orgasm swept through her brain. When it was all over with she oozed down the side of the sink, ass still glowing cherry red, a dripping pile of sensitive girl parts. Her frontside was all wet and soapy.
When she came to the manager realized she was on her knees, her pussy splayed open for her husband to see, on the kitchen floor. He still sat on his chair, eyeing her with concern.
His cock was easy to reach, so Colleen swallowed it and sucked him dry.
* * *
Colleen didn’t make it to work until Thursday afternoon.
She had gone shopping again. She had blown a month’s pay on tight shorts, hip-high miniskirts, and a new array of stockings.
When Colleen could think clearly—which was increasingly rare—she thought of her bubbling ass like it was its own person. It simmered constantly, now. Too-hot breezes would set her off, and the mere thought of her husband’s experienced hands made her shiver.
Sitting down meant that a euphoric buzz of simmering heat emanated from her happy, healthy rear end. Even the slightest pressure would set her off.
Colleen spent most of the staff meeting shifting from one cheek to the next, dribbling into her chair, while around her the boys compared notes as to which secretary was the hottest. The admiring glances they slipped her didn’t hurt, either.
Afterwards the petite brunette had sashayed around the office, in her new, towering heels, and dropped her pen seven or eight times. For practice.
“What’s wrong with me?” she thought later, behind a locked door. Two fingers pumped out a needy, juicy snatch. She couldn’t sit down without igniting an eventual orgasm. Work was a joke. She spent most of her time thinking about Neal’s oozing cock.
One of the secretaries floated past, just outside. Colleen could tell because of the giggling.
Then she glanced at the clock. 3:30. Colleen bolted upright.
“I’ve got to get home!” she thought, suddenly frantic. She had to cook dinner, vacuum, dust, and… she shivered to think… do the dishes.
But she still took the way out of the office that led her past a long row of slavering men.
* * *
A few hours later, Colleen’s boobs were covered in hot, soapy water, barely suspended over the sink. She had braced herself on the side of the counter, and waited happily for Neal to finally push his glistening cockhead inside of her.
“Faster,” she urged, spreading her legs just a little bit wider. She hadn’t known she could stretch that far. Her rear gleamed in the overhead light, a bubble of fun and happiness.
Dinner had been a success. Neal had loved her pot roast. Then she had sat in his lap and cooed as he ate, feeling his rock-hard erection bump into her butt. He had liked the hot pink dress, too, especially the sheer stockings and the easy-access panties.
Neal finally got his cock between her legs. The first uncertain stroke nearly toppled Colleen into the water. Her husband had to grab her tits from behind to keep her steady.
Her husband. Just the thought sent ripples of fun hurdling through her already-fried brain. Maybe that’s why she had such a tender, inviting ass. To make her husband happy. He deserved it, after all. Some of those video games looked pretty hard.
Not only did her pussy glow with the delicious sensation, but the feel of his rough, hairy body slamming into her sensitive ass…
Colleen came. She shrieked to the world, luxuriating in the heat of her own body. She was just a quivering, shivering ass with a girl attached, trying to make her husband happy. Her heels hung off her spasming feet.
* * *
On Friday Colleen tried to stay on her feet.
She stood by the side of her desk and tapped on her laptop. Work had been piling up while she had been lost in a happy haze. E-mails were becoming increasingly urgent.
Her boss had corralled her in the hallway and demanded a little order. Colleen had just stared at him. Her ass had been pushed up against the wall, and it was all she could do not to grind it into the plaster. She wore a slinky yellow dress, beaded with turquoise, that wrapped around her hips. Plus two sexy stockings. She looked like a lost call girl, wandering around an office building.
Her tits were starting to feel heavy and hot, same as her pulsating rear. She had cupped them in the bathroom, and that warm glow had pricked through her head.
“What’s wrong with me?” she sighed, trying to make sense of the past week. So many orgasms, so much time spent dripping onto changing room carpets.
To type standing up she had to bend over. A man could come in, any man, see her wanton, shaking ass, and…
Colleen had tried google, but “sexy ass hot feels good feels fun orgasms” had not produced anything useful.
Colleen checked her watch. It was 1:36 in the afternoon. How could she have left her husband alone for so long? She ambled to the parking lot, climbed into the car.
The seat beneath her grew wet and sticky.
* * *
“More… more…” Colleen screamed.
That was another nice thing about doggy-style. She didn’t yell in her man’s ear. He had both hands braced against her beautiful, shimmering ass, and that long, thrusting dick was somewhere inside of her. He had come after about two dozen condom-less strokes, and she had squeezed everything into her snatch.
Then she had coaxed out another round.
Colleen wondered, between flashes of pleasure, how she could’ve been so blind. Her body was telling her: stay at home, get fucked, please your man. And what better way then presenting him with a baby boy or girl?
She was stuffed so full, bits of juices kept dripping onto the carpet. Her knees burned with friction burns. Colleen scarcely cared.
On the way home she had called and quit her job. Maybe she could call back and get Jennifer’s. If that’s what Neal wanted.
In her head she wondered just what she could make her husband for dinner.
And how many dishes she could use.

Read 39387 times |
Rated 93.3 % |
(135 votes)

Vote list (Close) :ms.tingler
: POSITIVEFromEden
: POSITIVE

Please rate this text:   

Fiction

Eve and the Peeping Tom

Author’s note:
This story is meant to sexually excite without any claim to literary merit. I warn readers that in part it has cruel and sadistic content, so if that is not your thing, then don’t go reading it and then giving a negative vote because of the sadism.
____________
Word about the “Peeping Tom” had rapidly gone around the street. People were warned to make sure that their curtains were well drawn and the windows were closed.
Rob expressed concern to his wife Eve, that he was working a night shift and that she would be at home alone.
“Don’t worry,” Eve had assured him, “I’ll keep everything well locked up.
Evening came, and with Rob away at work, Eve began to feel lonely for him.
Flicking through the TV channels, she found nothing worth watching, and so she logged onto the internet.
Soon she was looking at the wonderful photos of men’s cocks on her favourite sex site. She knew that her husband would be shocked if he knew what she got up to each time he worked nights.
Eve’s hand slipped up beneath her skirt and began to softly rub around the mound of her pussy.
She spread her legs slightly and, sliding her hand under her pants, her fingers began to softly glide through her wet slipperiness.
A finger either side of her clitoris soon had her breathing hard and slowly pumping her hips in a fucking manner.
Her mind dreamt of fucking and sucking all of the lovely, gorgeous cocks that appeared on her computer screen.
She so much wanted to be fucked that she went and got her favourite bottle for masturbating.
Laying back, with her knees up and her legs apart, she began to fuck herself while continuing, with her other hand, to tease herself so that she became more and more aroused and sexy.
She was lustfully driving herself wild with feeling and fucking herself when she realised that she was thinking of the Peeping Tom that had been talked of. “What a sight he would have if he looked through my windows,” Eve mused to herself.
Now, with this sexy thought in her mind, Eve began to imagine what it would be like to be watched as she fucked and mauled her pussy.
She found herself being more and more aroused by the thought of some pervert looking through her window at her performing.
Wicked demons in her mind began to tell her that she should open her curtains in the hope that the pervert might come.
No sooner had these thoughts come to her mind that she banished them.
Moments later though, she was once more fantasising about being watched.
Eve considered that, with the warning having gone around, there would certainly be no open windows or imperfectly drawn curtains to attract the pervert.
That latter thought now seemed to take hold in her mind. With all of the neighbourhood windows carefully shrouded, any one window with a light shining forth into the night, would surely attract the pervert’s attention.
Her common sense, along with her moral values, began to do battle with the same wicked demons which now urged her on to open the curtains just a little.
Eve panted and began to moan softly as her lust rose and she fucked and played with herself more and more urgently.
Her mind was imagining the Peeping Tom watching her, and these thoughts made her wilder and sexier.
“Come on,” the demons in her mind urged. “Just open the curtains a little bit – imagine how sexy and sluttish you’ll feel with the possibility of being seen.”
Eve was panting with lust as she rose to her feet and moved to the side of the window to tug on the operating cord.
She pulled on the cord. The curtains opened some few inches. Her lust told her to open them more. Again she tugged so that the curtain opened quite enough for anyone outside to be able to get a good look inside.
Eve quickly moved to the door and flicked the light switch off.
Back to the window she peered out into the darkness of the night. There was no moon and being slightly overcast, it was quite dark outside.
Back to the door, Eve switched the light back on and once more took up her position on the sofa.
Her lustful excitement new no bounds now that she had provided that opportunity to be seen and spied on.
She mauled and fucked herself, getting more and more frantic and worked up until she was out of control and going mad as her lust surged to greater and greater heights, overwhelming her with the gorgeous, wonderful, unbearable sensations.
Meanwhile, across on the other side of town, a guy stood gazing out of his window at the night. He knew that it might be risky as he he too had heard the rumours of the Peeping Tom.
Behind him on the sofa, his two room mates were looking through porno magazines and, every now and then, rubbing at the huge bulges in their pants.
Finally, after much consideration, the first guy pulled on his jacket and announced that he was going out.
His two friends warned him that he would need to be extra careful, given that people were aware of what had been going on.
Tom, for that was indeed his name, decided that it would be best to take the car and go right across to the other side of town.
For some time he cruised slowly up and down all of the quieter, more secluded streets. He was pleased that the weather was quite overcast so that the night was dark and much less risky that if it had been moonlit.
He slowed the car and considered a lit window in one house. Too risky he decided. He would have needed to go down the narrow driveway and there would be no escape if anyone came.
He was specifically searching for lit windows which looked as if they might be bedrooms or bathrooms.
A couple of other possibilities presented themselves and twice he even parked the car and quietly slipped up to the windows to check them out but each time found them not to be what he needed.
Tom, being aware that people had talked of the Peeping Tom having been seen in the area, was a little nervous and began to consider that it was indeed too risky and that he should head home.
He made up his mind to check on just a couple of other streets and then give up for the night.
Cruising down one street at no more than idling speed, he spied a window with the light on and the curtains open just a small amount. He considered that it could be a living room or it could be a bedroom.
Tom let the car come to standstill as he glanced up and down the street. Nice and quiet. Plenty of trees and bushes casting shadows and giving plenty of scope for hiding is anyone should come along. He decided that he’d check out this window.
Letting the car slowly move on, Tom idled along the street before parking some way along from where he had seen the lit window.
He clicked the car door closed, making sure not to make any noise which might attract attention, then quietly and swiftly walked back to where he had seen the partly opened curtains of the window.
Nervously glancing about, he didn’t hesitate in disappearing from the street and making his way to the window which was at a convenient height from the ground so that his head and shoulders reached to just above the sill.
“Fuck!” he muttered under his breath as he thrilled at the sight that presented itself within the room.
Of course you, the reader, will have realised that it was Eve inside the room that this pervert had been lucky enough to find.
Imagine the sight which greeted him. He had thought to perhaps see some girl or woman undressing, but here was a slut with knees up and apart, fucking and mauling herself. He could hardly believe his eyes, but his rapidly hardening cock certainly told him that the sight was real.
The pervert unzipped his pants, and, taking out his now rock hard cock, he began to slowly masturbate as he watched the woman through the window. She was a little thing, not very tall and with a small, trim body. She had a sweet face and certainly didn’t look like the slut that she appeared to be. Her actions though, showed that she was filled with lust as she frantically pumped her hips onto the bottle with which she was fucking herself.
The pervert, Tom, gloated at the sight of this woman writhing and heaving and driving herself towards orgasm.
Eve had indeed reached a climax. She fell limp on the sofa, panting as if she’d just run a mile. The lull in her masturbation lasted only moments though, and as soon as she began to calm a little, her fingers were once more exploring and teasing her pussy in order to once more drive herself crazy with lustful delight.
For some half an hour or more she kept driving herself to wonderful delights of orgasmic delight.
Her mind had been constantly fantasising that she was being closely observed the whole time, but now as she calmed down a little, she knew that this was all in her mind.
She glanced at the curtains open just that little bit. She noticed the slight change of shadow just above the window sill but knew that it was just the shadow of the bushes outside moving in the breeze.
Eve stretched luxuriously, moving her arms back above her head and arching her body as she stretched. Her skirt was still up around her waist and her pants down around her thighs.
She moved her head around in a circular motion to stretch her neck muscles as well. As she did so her gaze momentarily swept over the mirror on the wall opposite the window.
Eve froze. Her eyes immediately went back to the mirror. She could see the window reflected in the glass. She could see the dark shape at the bottom of the window. She could see the vaguely changing light caused by the leaves moving in the breeze, but the whole time the darker shape, the shape of a head and shoulders, remained completely stationary.
Eve was filled with conflicting sensations of panic and lust, and so she remained stationary on the sofa.
The wicked demons again began their work. “This is what you want,” they told her, “you want to be a whore and a slut – show him more, show him more.”
Eve let one leg slip over the edge of the sofa while she lifted the other so that her legs were wide apart. Her hands went to her pussy. Her heart was pounding and her breath was coming in shallow gasps. Her lustful excitement knew no bounds. She began to fuck herself with the bottle, now heaving her hips vigorously as she fucked herself.
This was crazy, she told herself, and yet she pulled her top up and exposed her small breasts, fondling them and displaying them for the pervert.
Eve’s mind began racing along dangerous tracks with an idea in her mind that was sheer madness but in her extreme lust was taking hold of her.
She was telling herself that it was lunacy to do the thing that she envisaged, but even as she thought this, her lust drove her to get up off the sofa and go to the front door of the house. She stood trembling with nervous excitement, her hand on the latch.
“Yes, yes, do it,” her evil demons urged her. She turned the key and opened the door.
The pervert outside, had watched as Eve had left the room. In the quiet still of the night he had heard the turn of the key in the door which was close to his position at the window. He had prepared to flee, not knowing whether it might be the slut’s husband, or even the slut herself with a gun. But then he had seen Eve step forward, her top still up under her armpits so that her small, white breasts were beautifully exposed and her hand still holding her skirt up.
Momentarily they faced one another, each with a frightened look.
The pervert rapidly realised the true situation that here was a slut ready for fucking.
“Are you alone,” the pervert asked quietly.
“Yes, my husband’s at work,” Eve heard herself replying, not consciously having formed the words.
The pervert moved forward, his huge cock still sticking out in front of him, and which Eve’s eyes had constantly been attracted to.
The man roughly pulled Eve into the house. She sunk to her knees and took the wonderful, gorgeous cock into her mouth, sucking it softly and deeply right to the back of her mouth.
The man grasped her head in his large, powerful hands and dragged her head onto his rampant cock, forcing it into her throat and making her gag and choke.
Eve had been caught off guard. She was choking and she struggled to get off his cock so that she could get a breath of air. The man pulled her head off his cock and gave her a heavy slap across her cheek.
“Shut up and suck it, you fucking whore,” he roughly growled.
Eve, even though her face stung from the man’s slap, thrilled to this treatment. She had read of this sort of thing in the stories, and now she was being treated in that same way. She took a deep breath and began sucking skillfully on the gorgeous cock.
The man intermittently took hold of Eve’s head and vigorously and roughly fucked it with rapid, driving plunges right to the back of her throat. He would then slap her cheeks with several hard blows, and calling her a “dirty fucking slut” would let her continue sucking.
Eve’s soft hands lightly caressed the man’s huge, heavy testicles as she sucked softly and skillfully. The guy then slid his cock out of her mouth and told her to lick his balls.
Eve eagerly moved her mouth down to the hairy pouch and licked them with the flat of her tongue dragging over them and lifting them so that they then swung slightly.
With slightly opened mouth, along with her lapping tongue, she gently slurped and sucked the man’s hairy balls.
After a short time the man pulled away. “Lift your face up,” he told Eve as she knelt at his feet. She tipped her head back obediently and looked up at him.
Slap! A sharp smack with the flat of his hand struck her across the cheek.
Eve gave a little gasp and a whimper as the blow hurt her.
“You’re a dirty fucking whore, aren’t you bitch,” the guy sneered as he looked down at her.
Eve looked happily up at the man, but then another sharp slap made her dizzy and she wobbled slightly.
“Don’t fucking ignore me you stupid fucking cunt,” the man snapped at her. “Tell me what a whore you are.”
Eve, still reeling from the blow, but eager to play the game, looked up submissively and repeated the words, “yes, I really am a dirty whore for you.”
The words thrilled her and she could feel her pussy so wet that she was sure that she was dribbling down her thighs.
“Stand up bitch,” the man ordered, and Eve quickly rose to her feet.
Standing at over six feet, the man towered over Eve who barely measured five, two. He roughly dragged off what clothing Eve still wore, and then turned her around and around as he admired her trim figure with her small breasts and tight little ass.
“Get me something to tie you up with – anything will do,” the man commanded.
Eve knew that this was sheer madness on her part, but she nevertheless hurried to fetch a number of pairs of pantyhose to be used for her restraint.
Minutes later, Eve was standing submissively watching as the man tightly bound her breasts with one of the stockings. He pulled the bindings as tight as he could so that Eve’s small breasts were soon displayed as two firm, hard, rough globes which were rapidly changing from red to a purplish colour.
“Hold out your hands,” the man ordered.
Eve did as she was told and watched passively as the man tightly bound her wrists together.
Having achieved what he wanted, the man began slapping Eve’s tightly bound breasts, causing her to cringe away and cry out in pain.
“How will you explain your black and blue tits to your husband,” the man teased her as he continued hitting and slapping in spite of Eve constantly backing and turning and trying to get away.
Eve felt as if her breasts were on fire as they became more and more tender and each sharp slap hurt more and more.
Eventually, with Eve constantly backing away and trying to protect herself, she fell backwards onto the bed.
The man decided that it was time to fuck, and so he climbed between Eve’s naked thighs and began mauling her very slippery pussy.
Eve trembled with excitement as she felt the big, lust swollen cock probing and entering her vagina. In it slid until their bodies pressed lovingly, lustfully, ravenously together.
Eve was soon in a delirium of lustful delight as the man fucked and fucked and fucked her, all the time kissing, biting, mauling, pinching, slapping her body and calling her the filthiest, most demeaning names. Ah! this was heaven!
On and on the man fucked her. Shoving, pumping, pile driving his wonderful, gorgeous cock into her pussy which was literally swimming with her juices.
Eve bucked and heaved, moaning and panting with uncontrollable desire.
“Where’s your phone,” the man suddenly asked.
Eve’s brain took a moment or two to register as to what he was saying, but then muttered that it was in the bedside drawers.
The man rummaged through the drawer, then, finding the phone, he dialled.
After just a moment’s wait, Eve heard the man telling some friends about her and suggesting that they come and fuck her.
“What’s your address?” the guy interrupted his conversation to ask Eve for directions
“Thirteen, Mountain View Street,” Eve unhesitatingly responded, then even added further directions to make sure ….. “turn off Hansen Street.”
The man transmitted the directions to his friends and then resumed fucking. “You’re going to be fucked like you’ve never been fucked,” the man laughed as his cock plunged once more into her waiting pussy.
Eve was soon lost in a frenzy of all consuming orgasmic passion. She gave herself entirely to her lust and desire, and would never have even heard the knocking on the door.
The man got off her and went to let his friends in, leaving Eve laying there with legs spread and her wet, pussy gaping and dribbling juice onto the sheets.
The man brought his two friends into the bedroom and they marvelled at the sight of Eve as she lay there oblivious to everything other than her desire to be fucked and used as a sex object.
They released the bonds on her wrists and soon Eve was being heaved about like a sex doll and fucked in her mouth and her pussy, with the three men taking turns on her.
After a minute or two, one of the men went to the kitchen and found a two litre soft drink bottle. Emptying the contents down the sink, he then filled it to the brim with water and took it back to where his two pals were pumping their cocks into Eve’s body.
“Enema time,” the man with the bottle laughed as he went up to Eve and gave her a sharp slap across the face and, grabbing a handful of her hair, wrenched her to her feet.
Eve was dragged to the bathroom and bent over. Her ass was greased with a bit of lubricant, and the neck of the two litre bottle was pushed up her anus.
Eve felt the water filling her intestines as the men squeezed the bottle. More and more of the water was forced up her ass into her body until she felt her intestines bulging and her anal muscles working as they tried to evacuate it all.
When almost the entire contents of the bottle had been forced up into her, Eve was made to hold the bottle in while the men stood well back. She then pulled the neck of the bottle from her ass, and a huge gushing rush of water poured from her anus.
The men mockingly groaned and feigned disgust at the putrid mess.
Eve turned on the hot shower and quickly cleaned herself so that she was soon ready for the next lot of fucking which this time included being fucked right up her ass.
The men took turns at fucking her pussy, ass and mouth, regularly swapping about so that cocks went from pussy to ass, ass to mouth, or mouth to pussy and back again to her mouth, with Eve the whole time, totally submissive and letting herself go to her lust and love of this treatment.
“Let’s make the slut cry,” one of the men suggested.
They agreed that it would be fun and so they told Eve to kneel on the bed.
“Tip you head back a bit,” she was told.
Eve did as she was told and the men, each taking turns, began slapping her firmly across her face.
“You stupid, fucking cunt.” “You dirty little whore.” “You cock loving fucking bitch,” the abuse flowed as she was slapped.
Eve felt the tears coming to her eyes as the slaps across her face hurt her more and more. She felt happy though, that she was being treated in that way.
The men laughed and joked amongst themselves as Eve’s tears developed and she began to sob and cry more until the tears streamed down her face.
Having satisfied themselves with that bit of amusement, the men next decided to hang Eve upside down by her ankles, while they amused themselves with her body.
She was a little apprehensive but Eve nevertheless took part passively as the men took her to the garage and found ropes which they tied firmly about her ankles.
Soon she was hoisted into the air and was hanging upside down by her ankles, with her legs well apart so that her pussy was obscenely displayed.
The men amused themselves by fucking her pussy with various bottles that they found stacked on a shelf, then one of the men found her husband’s golfing equipment and they, one after the other, began pushing the golf balls up into her ass.
Twelve golf balls they inserted up Eve’s ass, so that they formed a flexible dildo which penetrated some twenty inches up into her intestines. Having performed that task, and finding some pieces of cane standing in a corner, they began flogging the insides of Eve’s thighs until she was screaming in pain.
“Best shut the fucking slut up or the neighbours will hear her,” one of the men said in alarm, and he crammed four of his fingers into Eve’s mouth and pulled her head right back so that she was effectively silenced and was reduced to making choking, gagging noises.
They thrashed the tender flesh of her thighs viciously until the white skin was striped with fiery red welts.
Eve’s eyes were staring and the tears were pouring forth as the pain raced through her body.
The men, getting more and more excited by Eve’s suffering, began also belting the canes down across the soft flesh of her bottom. She jerked about as she hung there upside down and suspended by her ankles, so that she was swinging and lurching around on the end of the rope.
“Fucking fantastic!” the man with his fingers jammed in Eve’s mouth marvelled in sadistic delight. “Look at the poor fucking bitch, she’s almost going fucking crazy.”
The other two men stopped their flogging to look at Eve’s face which was indeed contorted with pain, tear stained, and panic stricken.
“It must be almost unbearable for her,” one of the guys marvelled with enthusiasm.
“Let’s beat her cunt, that will give her fucking excruciating pain,” the other suggested.
They took up the canes once more and began thrashing them down right across Eve’s gaping pussy which glistened with a mixture of cum and her own juices.
The man jamming her mouth with his fingers, began slapping Eve’s still tightly bound, purple breasts, and occasionally gave her a good hard slap across her tear stained face as she twisted and shook about on the end of the rope.
The extreme sadism only ceased when Eve appeared to lose consciousness, no longer able to bear the horrendous and ghastly pain to which she was being subjected.
She was lowered down off the rope and taken back into the house and placed on the bed. Once she began to come to, the men, relieved to see that she was reviving alright, began to once more fuck her every opening until they each pumped their adulterous cum deep into her pussy, and standing back, looked at her laying there, panting lustfully with cum slowly oozing from her pussy.
Having satisfied their lust and beginning to think of the possible consequences of what they had done, the men began to get ready to leave. Their nervousness about the possibility of Eve telling her husband, with the subsequent involvement of the police, was quickly put to rest when Eve, battered and dishevelled, struggled to her feet and gave each of them a kiss full on the mouth, telling them that her husband would again be on night shift in two weeks time.

Read 48846 times |
Rated 88.7 % |
(247 votes)

Vote list (Close) :donald1234
: POSITIVEllieno
: POSITIVEBunnytom
: POSITIVEjb_funn
: POSITIVEStridinginShadow
: POSITIVEMousyKeys
: POSITIVEAk176
: POSITIVE

Please rate this text:   

True Story

How it All Started: My Older Brother

My name is Charlie, everyone calls me CJ, I am 19 at the time of writing. I loved all the stories I have found here and not having a normal sex life I figured I would share with everyone my experiences. The first story I want to share, is one I remember so vividly that it’s as if happened an hour ago. Apologies in advance for any grammatical or structural issues you may find.

Fantasm

Jamie loves to get raped

Hey guys I’m not a writer nor do I aspire to be. I’m bad with grammar and spelling and all things writing. This is my first story so please try not to be too vicious in the comments but please feel free to comment both good and bad…Unless you’re hear to bash rape stories.

Information

Enema Types

There are 5 basic forms of liquid enema:
1. The evacuation enema (to empty the bowel)
2. The medication enema (to deliver medication)
3. The purgative enema (to cleanse the body generally)
4. The reabsorption enema (to deliver nourishment)
5. The drug enema (to deliver analgesics or narcotics)
In adition there are thre other forms of enemas
1. The air enema
2. The steam enema
3. The smoke enema (Steam and smoke were very popularin previous times, but
are generally not practiced today)
Some recipes for enema solutions (quantities are for a nominal amount, which
can be halved, doubled etc):
Mild Basic Enema
1.5 litres water
1/4 litre milk
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon honey (optional)
Basic Cleansing Enema
1.5 litres water
Salt
2 tablespoons oil – olive, sesame, glycerin or parrafin
Aniseed-Fennel Enema
Make a tea of
1.5 litres water
3 pinches of aniseed and fennel seeds
1 pinch camille
1 teaspoon honey
2 teaspons olive oil
Basil-Aniseed Enema
Make a tea of
1.5 litres water
3 pinches dried basil
2 pinches aniseed
Lavender Oil Enema
Soak a handful of lavender in
half a litre olive oil in a warm
water bath for about 2 hours. Let it
stand for a night and then filter it.
Mix this with 2 litres of warm water.
A Potency Enema (from old Roman times – recorded in the Satyricon)
1 litre red wine
5 egg yolks
2 tablespoons olive oil
Juice of fresh truffles (or mushrooms etc)
Mix well

Read 38134 times |
Rated 60.8 % |
(91 votes)

Vote list (Close) :

Please rate this text:   

Sex Joke

Turner Brown

A little guy goes into an elevator, looks up and sees this HUGE guy standing next to him. The big guy sees the little guy staring at him, looks down and says, “7 feet tall, 350 pounds, 15 inch penis, 2 lb. left testicle, 2 lb. right testicle, Turner Brown.” The small guy faints dead away and falls to the floor. This big dude kneels down and brings him to, slapping his face and shaking him, “What’s wrong with you?” In a very weak voice, the little guy says, “Excuse me, but what EXACTLY did you say to me?” The big dude says, “I saw the curious look on your face and figured I’d just give you the answers to the questions everyone always asks me. I’m 7 feet tall, 350 pounds, 15 inch penis, 2 lb. left testicle, 2 lb. right testicle, and my name is Turner Brown.” The small guy says, “Thank God! I thought you said Turn Around!”

Read 93647 times |
Rated 49 % |
(3455 votes)

Vote list (Close) :

Please rate this text:   

Fiction

Shipwrecked 7, and final

I wrote this story a while ago for a friend, and she liked it so much, she posted it. I have decided to write some more, so I am re-posting this story under my name, with a couple adjustments and the appropriate tags. I am interested in useful comments and seeing how it’s rated, so please feel free. THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION, INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY. TO ANY PERSON OF ANY AGE. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS ARE FROM THE AUTHOR’S WARPED IMAGINATION. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL EVENTS, OR LOCALES OR PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

Fantasm

Midnight Visit Ch. 2

After their encounter the night before, a whole new myriad of possibilities present themselves… This is all explanation from the previous chapter, and setup for the upcoming ones. Yes, it was meant this way!

Fiction

Grey Monday

A grey Monday morning. I’m sat – no, I’m slumped – behind the desk in my office. I look wearily at the clock. Only 10 o’clock – far too early to slip out for a coffee. The boss is strict and she’s been picking at me for a while. I’ll keep the blinds on the partition shut and only leave the room to use the copier today. Christ, I’m 34 years old and I’m scared of my boss! It’s warm inside my grey office cocoon, but I can see the cold rain spattering the floor to ceiling window. Rain falling from the grey sky onto the grey streets far below.
My computer screen isn’t grey. It’s a piercing white rectangle that’s too close to my eyes. I can’t focus on the numbers. Shouldn’t have drank yesterday. Shouldn’t be drinking alone any day. I’ve been drinking alone for 6 months, since my marriage ended and I decided to follow a job here, halfway across the country. No real friends here – people in the office are jerks. People in my local bar are jerks. Maybe I’m the jerk, I smile.
My phone buzzes, a shaft of sound piercing my ear. I pick up. “Work experience is here,” the receptionist chirps. “Been told she’s yours this morning. Sending her through now.” I put the phone down and huff. I can’t remember being asked to chaperone some kid for the morning. I should probably pay more attention. Or read my emails once in a while.
I hear the knock on the door. It’s open before I can speak and a dark blonde head appears. A striking, confident face grins at me. “Am I in the right place?” She’s cheerful. Large hazel eyes hold their gaze on mine from behind black-framed glasses. I wave her in. “I’m afraid you are. Close the door behind you.” My voice is gruff. I force a smile. She isn’t a kid. She’s an assured looking young woman in heels and a smart black pencil skirt. She grins again. “I know, I know. I’m a bit old for work experience. I’m 22. It’s embarrassing really. Your boss is my aunt. My Daddy thinks I need to get up a little earlier in the morning so he’s making me come here for the week. I’m Heather, by the way.” I stand up and shake her extended hand. Her grip lingers a little. Her eyes are still fixed on me.
“I’m gonna level with you, Heather. I’ve got a bad case of the Mondays. And a hangover. And I don’t really like my job. Or this town. In fact, I’m probably the worst example for you to follow in this entire fucking office.” She laughs. “I’m being serious. Really, I am. What do you want to learn about?” She’s still laughing. She’s wearing a tight black vest underneath her green cardigan. Her tits are large, I think. I catch a glimpse of a scarlet lacy strap as the laughter shakes her chest. Her eyes catch mine on the way back up to her face. She stops. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’d like to learn how much you like heels and suspenders.” I look her up and down. She begins unbuttoning her cardigan, slowly. “Something about these clothes makes me feel so naughty. Do they make you feel naughty?” Her hands move over her ample chest, pushing those large tits together. I see another flash of scarlet.
My mouth turns a little dry. I say nothing. I haven’t had a woman for 6 months. She’s gyrating in front of me. She bends over and backs up into me, grinding her ass against my crotch. I move a hand to her waist and she turns around. He teeth bite at my lip and then her tongue fills my mouth. I’m rock hard as her hand deftly unzips me and I spring out. “You’re so hard for me. So fucking hard!” She’s whispering in my ear now. “I want you inside of me. You want to fill my pussy up in your office, huh?”
I need no second invitation. Her warm hand in running up and down the length of me and I’m not lasting very long. We change places and she bends over the desk. Arches her back. I quietly lock my door. The skirt is bunched up around her waist. She is wearing suspenders. She isn’t wearing panties. Her bald pussy is visibly wet. I don’t even take off my trousers. I just push myself right into her slit. My cock looks huge as I push into her – of course it does, it’s been six months! I slowly slide into her. “You’re very tight,” I gasp. “I haven’t done this for 6 months.” I don’t know why I’m telling her this. She giggles. I withdraw half-way and slowly slide in again. My shaft is wet from her. My balls ache as they press against her smooth flesh. I’m on the verge of cumming already.
I pull out just in time, my breath rattling in my throat. She looks concerned, but realises what’s going on when she sees the bead of cum on the end of me. She’s on her knees in a flash, shoulder straps under her arms, those large tits on display. I reach down to touch them but I’m stopped by her soft, damp tongue. It laps the cum off me like milk. Then I’m in her mouth. It’s warm in there. I could stay there for a while. Her pink lips are moving down my wet shaft. Her tongue strokes the underneath. She’s tasting herself on me. I’m touching the back of her throat but she pushes a little further until my balls are on her chin, and she holds it. And holds it. Moves her head slightly. I’m on the brink. I can hear her breathing through her nose. He eyes are looking up at me.
Her mouth releases its grip on me and she pulls the trigger with two slow strokes of her hand. I’m cumming. One dry spasm and then I erupt. 6 months of boredom and loneliness and frustration is released. I’m resting on her chin and bottom lip as I’m cumming. One. The boredom jumps up onto her cheek and upper lip. Two. The loneliness floods into her open mouth and gushes over her tongue. Three. Four. Five. The frustration overflows and runs down her neck. Seven. Eight. Nine. Whatever’s left sprays onto those large tits. I have to concentrate to keep my legs holding me upright. She swallows and smiles at me.
Still hard, I coax her up with a gentle hand in her hair. She perches on the edge of the desk and I enter her with one of her long legs wrapped around my waste, pulling me into her. She still has my cum on one side of her face and down her neck and on her heaving chest. She sees me looking at it and murmurs. “I’m so naughty, aren’t I? Letting a stranger fuck me with his cum all over me.” I make a noise which is meant to sound like agreement. Our flesh is meeting with a dull slap. I can hear my heart pumping. I’m deep inside her, stretching her out, and it’s too much. I’m tingling after cumming. I pull out of her and kneel before her, putting my face between her legs. I work two fingers inside her and my tongue meets her clit.
She stifles a cry and I can feel her gripping my fingers. I savour the taste of her. Savour the scent. It’s been 6 months. Her heels are on the desk. My desk. I apply more pressure with my tongue and when I pull away to look up she’s red in the face. My cum on her cheek is liquifying slightly. She’s rubbing some on those tits. The skin at the top of her chest is red as well. Her nipples are hard darker points on her tanned skin. Her hand grips my hair and pushes me back to her clit. I suck and lap and she’s cumming silently, pulling at my hair. Air rushes in and out of her lungs and her chest heaves.
I stand and she remains on my desk. We don’t talk. She’s too limp and spent for that. I’m ready again now. I force my way back into her. I have to force myself in because I’m hard and big and she’s very tight now. Her legs are spread for me and I set a good pace. I need to cum again and I don’t want to wait. She reaches a hand down and grips the base of my shaft, but she’s so wet that she can’t get a grip. Her hand stays there anyway, adding to my sensations. She’s biting her lip. She whispers to me, begging me to cum inside her. Everything tightens, and then the true release I’ve been waiting for. I discover that after 6 months, a second time doesn’t diminish volume. At all. As she feels my first shot she gasps. Her body tenses. I’m half way inside her and when I look down I can see my spasms. I grunt as I feel my spurts slow and diminish, and slide in as far as I can.
There’s a slight awkwardness as I withdraw. I find her some paper towels from the dusty cupboard in the corner. She leaves the room and goes to the bathroom. Sweat stings my eyes. I’ve gathered myself by the time she gets back. She walks in and you’d never guess what she’d just done. “Better?” she smiles. “Cum makes me thirsty. You can buy me a coffee.” We leave and spend 30 minutes making small talk.
We’re in the lift back up. She’s all over me and I’m ready to go again. We’re in my office and I’m sitting in my chair. She’s kneeling in front of me and my balls are in her mouth. She sucks each one until I feel a sharp stab of pain, but she knows just when to release and it’s heaven. Her tongue and lips work me over from the base to the tip and back again. And again. I’m desperate to be in her mouth again, and she knows it. Takes all of me in, sucks hard. She’s working the head over and the veins are standing out. She stands, naked now except for the stockings and suspenders. Her back’s to me and warmth and wetness is lowered onto me. Those slim legs must be strong because she’s moving using them, a soft hourglass figure gliding up and down me. We’re both silent. I can see her gripping me, clinging to me as she rises and falls.
When she knows I’m nearly there she shifts again. She kneels in front of me. I’m back in her mouth again, much wetter this time. She makes sure those perfect tits are wet as well and wraps them around my cock. She’s doing all the work and you can see it in her face. I feel the build up, that bubbling rising feeling, and I’m cumming again. She directs me and I spray all over her, a pearl necklace. A fleeting thought – I’ll buy her a real one after this. Stupid man. My door opens. I’m still leaking onto her chest as my boss walks in. They look at each other and I know it’s a set up.
Part 2 forthcoming…

Read 12258 times |
Rated 92.5 % |
(67 votes)

Vote list (Close) :

Please rate this text: