Anything for Him: at Work

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Ass

Anything for Him: at Work

I

At 34, Jane Martin had begun to wonder if both sex and men were slightly over-rated. She had always liked sex and had had a fair amount of it, starting with a boyfriend whose cock she had sucked almost every day for her whole senior year of high school and to whom she had given her virginity, and then with quite a few more boys in college and in her first few years of living on her own. It had all been fine, and sometimes better than fine, but also disappointing somehow. The very first time that she had sucked her first boyfriend’s cock, she had surprised herself by how much she liked it—there was something about kneeling there in front of him on the family room floor—but it had weirdly gotten less good as time went by, and neither he nor any of the other boys she sucked off or slept with had really seemed to know what to do with her enthusiasm. They were glad to have a mouth and a pussy to fuck—and one of them even persuaded her to take it up the ass one time—and she had a good enough time and usually came pretty hard when she was getting fucked. But she somehow felt as if there was something much more powerful inside of her, waiting to be awakened, and neither she nor any of these clueless boys really knew how to do it.

Her most intense orgasms—the only really intense orgasms that she ever had—all came when she was by herself. For the last few years she had pretty much stopped sending out the necessary signals to win male attention, though she could have gotten plenty if she’d wanted. She was a good-looking woman with pretty all-American features, medium-brown hair, and a trim figure, just juicy enough to look voluptuous if she wore the right clothes, but not so much that she couldn’t keep it under wraps in her business clothes. And she did now keep it under wraps, both at work and everywhere else, contenting herself with internet porn and regular masturbation sessions.

Recently, even these private times had begun to be a little less exciting. She still had her favorite dildos, one that filled her pussy just right, and then another one, with realistic ridges and a slit, for her mouth. She was a little embarrassed even to think about that second one, about the way that she seemed to come so much harder when she was licking and sucking on it. But she still used it, and even toyed briefly with the idea of sending away for an expensive fake cock on the internet that was supposed to shoot out real come. That was the thing, though. She knew that it wouldn’t be real, that none of it was quite real, and it was getting harder and harder to really give herself to her fantasies as she got surer and surer that they would never come true.

And then it all changed. His name was Dave—but then it didn’t really matter what his name was because from the first time she saw him walking down the hall at the small public relations firm where they both worked, he was just Him, the man she couldn’t get out of her mind. In fact, he wasn’t much more than a boy—just 25 when everything started—and she never did know what it was that she had recognized in him at that first glance. Or maybe he had recognized something in her.

In any case, she saw him walking down the hall, a handsome, boyish, dark-haired guy, not that tall—about 5’11″—but somehow looking taller because he had that long, lean swimmer’s build that she had always been drawn to. But there was nothing boyish about his eyes or about the look that he gave her when their eyes met, when his gaze lingered on hers for just a second longer than seemed necessary, and when he smiled confidently at her and gave her a short, sharp nod. Before she knew or understood what was happening, she looked quickly down, away from his gaze, and she felt her knees weakening and a strange warmth in her lower belly.

She tried to laugh it off and gradually regained her composure, but when she was introduced to him a few hours later as they entered a staff meeting, and when he smiled that smile again, and took her hand, and said, “Yes, Jane and I have already seen each other,” she felt herself melting inside and looked quickly down, unable to meet his eyes for more than a second. Only this time, when she looked down she found herself staring at his crotch for a long few seconds, in the course of which she could almost swear that she saw the faint, long outline of his cock thickening and twitching.

It was lucky for her that she was able to sit down right away and that she didn’t have anything to do or say at the meeting, because the rest of the hour was a strange, intense blur, in which she was conscious of nothing but the hot moisture of her pussy and the thrilling sound of his voice when he spoke up, as he did several times. Without knowing quite what he said, she could tell that he was extraordinary—smart, imaginative, and so oddly confident for a young guy on his first day. He had been hired into a position a clear notch above her own middle management job, which would ordinarily have pissed her off, given his age and inexperience, but which now didn’t bother at all, because it was so clear that he was a truly special person—and because it felt so right that he should be in a position of power over escort her.

It was a whole week later before they had a real conversation, but she didn’t even wait until lunch-time before she started masturbating to the thought of him and to the remembered sound of his voice. She’d never touched herself at work before—she’d always needed all of her toys and some serious time to fantasize for a satisfying session—but on this day she rushed to the ladies room as soon as the meeting was over to be alone with her thoughts and to remove her soaked panties and plunge her fingers into her pussy. She held two fingers deep in her pussy and rubbed her clit with her thumb and remembered what he had looked and sounded alike. And then she thought of that thickening cock under his pressed pants, and came convulsively, as hard as she had ever come, struggling desperately not to make too much noise. Without even thinking about it, she then did something she had never done before, removing her fingers from her pussy and licking them thoroughly and eagerly clean.

It wasn’t until she worked her way up to her finger-tips and began teasing at the end of them with her tongue that she realized what she was really doing. She was licking his cock clean in her mind, savoring every taste of the pussy juice that had collected on it in her daydream fuck. And when she thought about that, she had to come again, this time just diddling her clit for a few seconds until she got back over the orgasmic peak that she had only just come down from. Holding her soaked panties tightly in her fist, she emerged from the stall to a slightly amused look from a female colleague. She could only manage a quick, embarrassed smile and then she almost ran back to her office. She didn’t wash her hands because she wanted to smell and lick them again when she got there.

It was a whole week before he called her into his office, a whole week in which she made herself come two or three times every night and at least once or twice in the course of the work day, spinning more and more elaborate fantasies about Him, working her favorite dildo wildly in and out of her pussy, sucking on that pretend cock for all she was worth, and after the first two days working a new dildo in and out of her asshole, too. She’d never craved anything up her ass before, but there was something so compelling about this new set of fantasies that she had to keep pushing farther and finding new things to do to herself. She licked the pussy dildo clean now after she came—something that she’d never done before. She’d even felt a faint pull in the direction of the asshole dildo, but that just seemed gross and crazy, so she didn’t put it into her mouth. For now, anyway. She thought about him so intently and so constantly that she could hardly believe he didn’t know about it—if only by some new kind of sexual telepathy. But then again, she couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him, so how would he know?

But somehow he did, and when she got the first email from him, the one that just said, “My office, please; now”, she knew that something important was going to happen. She walked down the hall; at least she supposed she did—she couldn’t remember later anything that happened between reading the email and finding herself in his office. She closed the door behind her, which was odd but felt clearly right to her. And she stood there in front of his desk with her eyes lowered, waiting for him to speak. For about five agonizing seconds, he didn’t say anything and she was suddenly afraid, wondering if her behavior would seem bizarre to him, wondering if the hopes that she had only half-formed on the way down the hall were going to be disappointed. But then he spoke, quietly and distinctly.

“Jane, I’m going to take a bit of a chance with you, but I think we have an understanding.” She couldn’t lift her eyes still, but she managed to whisper a “Yes,” still not knowing for sure what he meant but feeling that she just needed to give herself to the experience.

“Since the first moment I looked at you,” he went on, “you’ve reminded me powerfully of somebody I used to know, somebody with whom I had a very special relationship. You don’t look much like her—you’re much prettier, in fact—but you send off the same vibes somehow, and you send them off very powerfully. As I say, I’m taking a bit of a chance, I guess, but I really think it’s all right, don’t you?”

Jane mustered a bit more voice this time and looked shyly up for a second at his eyes, which were focused boldly on her, and said, “Yes; yes I’m very sure that it’s all right.” She looked down again, but her senses were on high alert, and she heard him swivel his chair to the side. And then, almost as if she were willing him to say it, she heard his voice again, in a new and deeper tone.

“Come over here, behind my desk, Jane; and kneel down.”

Just a short week ago, it would have seemed completely unbelievable to Jane that she would follow such an order—submitting herself unquestioningly to a man she barely knew, and doing it at work, in an office where the door wasn’t even locked. But now she almost raced over, never thinking to lock the door because He hadn’t told her to escort istanbul and because she didn’t want to do anything but fall to her knees in front of him.

And now, when she knelt down, it was like a dream, a dream that she’d been having every night for a week. There it was in front of her, the cock she’d been imagining, his cock, still in his pants, but unmistakably swollen and hard. She strained forward, trembling as she knelt there, but still didn’t do anything until she heard him speak again. “Now, Jane, do just what you want. I’ll tell you how you’re doing.”

With trembling hands, she undid his belt and unzipped his pants, spreading them apart to reveal his hard cock straining at his boxers where—Jane couldn’t help noticing with excitement—there was already a large wet spot showing through at the head. She slipped her fingers eagerly into the fly opening of his boxer and pulled it free. It wasn’t the biggest cock she had ever seen—though it was close, a lovely, full thick 8″—but for some reason that Jane didn’t understand and didn’t question, it was absolutely the best cock she had ever seen, the most beautiful and powerful, perfectly shaped, the cock that she’d been waiting for without even knowing it. She didn’t exactly say all of that to herself, but she knew it all, then and afterwards, knew it in the two seconds that it took her to dip her head down, swirl the glistening come at the tip with her tongue, wrap her lips firmly around the mushroom head, and then slide those loving lips down almost to the base, until she felt the head pressing deep into her throat, deeper than she’d ever taken any cock.

Why she didn’t gag was a mystery. But she didn’t. It was as if she was learning how to deep throat a cock—something that she’d kind of toyed with earlier but never worked at or mastered—all in one deep stroke. She held his cock deeply in her mouth, savoring it, and then lifted her head again up the whole length of the shaft, working her tongue eagerly over it as she went, giving special attention to the sensitive, oozing head of it, and then plunging her mouth back down again, even deeper this time, amazingly enough, and repeating the whole delicious motion again and again deliriously, for she didn’t know how long—but probably only a minute or two—until she felt his firm hand on the back of her head, guiding her urgently up and down, but varying the pace and depth now to suit his pleasure. She followed his guidance instinctively—not that she had any choice, he was gripping her with such strength—and in just a few more strokes she could feel a kind of deep vibration through the shaft as he began to come. He eased her head almost, but not quite off his dick. He wanted still to be in her warm, wet mouth as he came, but to splash the come onto her tongue where she would taste it.

And she did taste it, jet after jet of it, as big a load as she’d ever swallowed, and tasting like—she didn’t know what—just the taste that she’d been craving forever and that she now would do anything to have again, and again. She knew that she’d done a very good job on his cock—all of that hot come proved it—but she was listening again now for his voice as she gently licked at the sensitive head, making sure that there was no more come to be savored and that she had completed her task to his satisfaction. She was yearning for his approval, she realized, both because it suddenly seemed more important than anything else to please him and because she desperately needed to know that she’d have the chance to please him again. He had groaned deeply as he came, and she realized with a shock that she was whimpering and moaning, too, pretty loudly in fact, and straining for her own orgasm, which she knew would flood over her if she could touch just one finger to her rigid little clit. In fact, incredibly enough, she realized that she might come even without touching herself if she got one more taste of his come or, almost more important, an approving word from him.

And then her wishes came true again as he spoke out low and huskily. “That was lovely, Jane. You did very well.” He was controlled and commanding, but she was thrilled to hear the excitement in his voice, too, and she knew that she had satisfied him deeply. Then he told her to take off her panties and leave them with him—”I want to feel what it did to you to suck my cock”—and he gave her one more gift. “And while you’re taking your panties off, why don’t you just touch yourself for one minute and let’s see what happens. In a flash, Jane reached up to take the hot wet crotch of her panties in one hand and pull them down, wriggling them over her knees to hand to him. And just as quickly her hand was back on her pussy, working the swollen pussy lips in her fingers and just touching at her clit with her thumb. Within a few seconds she was shaking violently, heaving and coming as she had never come before, lurching forward impulsively in hopes of taking his cock back into her mouth again as she came. But he was already standing, zipped up and composed. He smiled down at her, there in a heap on the floor with her skirt worked up to her waist, her thighs soaked with pussy juice and a dazed look on her face. “You’ll be hearing beykoz escort from me, Jane.” And then he walked out the door, leaving her to assemble herself as best she could and totter back to her office.

II

Within a few days, she couldn’t remember or imagine a time when she hadn’t been obsessed with his cock. He took her cell phone number that first afternoon and then texted her with instructions after that. He liked to start the day by coming in her mouth, sometimes in his office, sometimes in his car, sometimes in a basement supply closet that didn’t seem to get much use. He texted her the time and place, and she was always there early, kneeling and shaking with anticipation. If there was time, she would lick and kiss him worshipfully from his balls to his belly, nuzzling hungrily at his musky creases, whimpering with pleasure over and over, teasing both him and herself with small lickings and suckings of his cock before she finally couldn’t stand it—or before he gave her a quick command—and she got down to the serious business of working her mouth up and down his shaft until he filled it with come. Every time was more exciting than the last; every mouthful of come was the best she had ever tasted. She couldn’t believe it, but she just kept wanting him more and more.

Most days he used her several times, sometimes for a quickie in his office in the middle of the morning, almost always at lunch, and then one last time before leaving for home. She never wore panties to work—after the first day she knew that without being told—so when he fucked her pussy on the second day, he only had to nod at his desk and she was bent over it with her skirt up and her moist pussy waiting eagerly for him. He was slow and steady the first time, filling her deeply and making her come twice before he finished himself. It was an incredible fuck, her best ever by far, but even as his wonderful cock filled her pussy she was missing it in her mouth. She didn’t need to worry, though, because that time, and every time after, he had her lick him clean very thoroughly after he fucked her. She liked it best when he finished in her pussy just before her second come, because then she could turn around quickly and take him in her mouth to clean him off. And then she’d have her second orgasm that way, with his cock filling her mouth and without even touching herself.

For the first week he alternated pretty regularly between her mouth and her pussy, using her three or four times a day and leaving her every time filled with come and wrung out with pleasure. She was so totally satisfied by him that she didn’t really need anything else, but at the same time, she was so desperate to satisfy him in every way that within just a few days she began to wonder why he wasn’t fucking her asshole, too. It was so clear to her—and she hoped it was clear to him—that she would do absolutely anything for him, that it quickly began to seem odd that he wasn’t taking advantage of her ass. She’d never thought that much about her asshole as a source of pleasure—that one assfuck in college hadn’t made much of an impression on her. All she could remember was that it was a little bit awkward and uncomfortable and that it was over pretty fast.

But now she was suddenly thinking a lot about her asshole as a source of pleasure—his pleasure, she hoped, and then she knew that it would be her pleasure, too. She didn’t know how to bring it up, exactly. The bizarre fact of the matter was that she didn’t really know him and that they hardly spoke at all. Just a few firm words from him was all it ever took to command her instant obedience. And the most she ever risked saying to him was a meek and heartfelt, “Thank you” each time that he finished with her. That, of course, and her suppressed cries of pleasure and gratitude while he was using her. On the other hand, she felt in some other way that he knew her completely and that he must know how ready she was to give him her asshole if he would only ask for it.

The first meeting had occurred on a Monday; and the first blowjob on the next Monday after that. After he used her mouth and pussy so wonderfully through the whole work week, Jane had to endure a long and anxious weekend when she kept wondering if he would call or text her, even though she somehow knew that he wouldn’t and that she wasn’t going to be a part of his life away from the office.

She was sure that she had pleased him through the week and couldn’t really believe that he wouldn’t use her again the next week. But still, he hadn’t said or promised anything after she’d finished licking him clean on Friday afternoon, and she found it hard to fight down the fear that maybe he was through with her, that maybe he’d taken what he wanted and was ready to move on. There was that tantalizing remark on the first blowjob day about the “very special relationship” with the woman she reminded him of. That sounded promising. A “very special relationship” just had to mean something that lasted more than a week. On the other hand, maybe that other woman had given him something more, or had sucked his cock even more worshipfully—though Jane really didn’t see how that was possible. And then again—Jane really hated thinking about this—that very special relationship had ended, hadn’t it, so she was already trying to figure out everything that she could do to make sure that this relationship would be extra special enough to last a long, long time.

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Art Fair

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Brunette

It was a steamy, hot day in July. Not at all unexpected for this time of year, but still oppressively hot and humid, like a soaking wet, hot towel wrapped around your body. There was nothing to do but to hope for a breeze and keep drinking ice water to cool down. If you were lucky and there was still ice in your cup when you finished the water, you put that leftover ice on your neck and chest to try to cool yourself.

I’d felt restless at home that day, not wanting to leave the air-conditioned comfort of home, but needed to get out and away, wanting to do something “different”. I looked through the paper to see what was happening on such a hot, sticky day and found an art fair at the park. I hadn’t attended an art fair in years! My husband’s not into art so it was easy to get this time alone.

At the park, I walked along the trails surrounded by booths full of artwork. Hand blown glass, carvings from wood or stone, paintings with oil, watercolors and acrylics, even string art, which I’d done in my senior year to pass Geometry! Guess I should have saved that piece – might have been worth quite a sum!

As I walked slowly in the heat, I could smell all the different colognes everyone was wearing. Men in Polo, women in L’air du Temps. At times it was a very heady, erotic combination. But if you got too close to fragrances that clashed, it was a very painful experience! Didn’t people realize you really shouldn’t wear colognes on such a hot day? Not only does the heat continue to release the fragrance, it draws bees and mosquitoes! And the hairspray! And the make-up running from once beautiful, air-conditioned faces. Ladies! Use waterproof mascara please!

I was dressed in jeans and a pale yellow v-neck t-shirt and sneakers. I’d lost quite a bit of weight in the past year, so I was happy to show off the “new” me, still a curvy kind of girl, but not quite so round and curvy. My clothes weren’t overly revealing, just form fitting. I had on virtually no make up – just enough to put some color on my eyes, lashes and lips; my hair was pulled back in a pony tail as it’d grown out from the short-short cut I’d worn for many years. I really had no idea what my natural hair color was, but between me and my stylist, it was deep red with bold blond highlights. I usually wore it loose and fly away, but with this heat, I had to keep it off my neck. I was carrying a cup of ice water with me, not wanting to drink too fast, but really wanting to get to that ice so that I could use it to cool my hot skin. This was going to be one of those “two shower days” – I felt the sweat dripping down my neck onto my chest then between my breasts, my clothing not able to soak it all up.

Then I saw the painting. It was to the left at a booth with other paintings and this one intrigued me. The blues, the browns. Most people wouldn’t put blue and brown together but this was wonderful; the shading, the texture. I had to get a closer look so I went over to the booth, then I saw him and stopped in my tracks.

He was tall, probably 6’, lean but well built, dark hair and eyes and was talking with some of the others looking at the paintings. I assumed he was the artist and listened to what he was telling the other on-lookers about his work. Acrylic on a sand base applied to a wood panel. He likes to work in abstracts, although it didn’t look abstract to me, and paints in layers. I didn’t hear much more than that because I was too busy watching him move, watching how he held himself tall while talking to these people, watching his mouth move, watching the sweat bead on his face. I had this sudden urge to reach out, wipe the sweat off his brow then follow the trail of sweat from his neck, down his chest to who knows where. He looked over at me, smiled then turned back to finish the conversation with the potential buyers. I wondered how long I’d been staring at him, but that didn’t stop me from continuing – I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

He sold a painting to the people he was talking with and I was glad it wasn’t the one I’d been looking at. When they finished, he turned to me and asked if there was anything he could do for me. He had no idea what a loaded question that was! Oh, the things he could do for me – my mind maslak escort reeled. In a matter of no more than two seconds, I ran through several scenarios of what he could do for me. The thoughts ranged from softly touching my face and kissing me deeply, to throwing me down on the ground and fucking me senseless.

I must have been further into my thoughts than I realized because he reached out and touched my arm, asking again if he could do anything for me. I rejoined reality and told him I liked the blue and brown painting. I liked the colors that were used, the texture it had and the simplicity of it all. I especially liked the two “U” shapes in the center; they reminded me of two lovers engulfed in one another. We chatted about the painting and how it was done, but the entire time I was only half listening, I was still too enthralled by him and his movements, the sultry look he may not have even realized he had.

I finally finished the water in my cup, absent mindedly reached in and grabbed a piece of ice, rubbed it on my neck, the water dripped down onto my chest, cooling me ever so slightly. I noticed the look on his face and explained that I was really hot. With a sly smile and laugh, he agreed. I had to laugh too as I realized what I’d said and how it’d been taken.

He introduced himself as Darin, the artist. I returned the introduction as Sherri, the hot one. We both laughed and talked about the heat for just a minute. A couple came to the booth and began asking questions about one of the other paintings. Darin asked if I could wait for just a minute while he talked with these folks and I told him I’d be back in a few – had to get more ice and water to cool off, especially while talking to him. He chuckled again as I walked away.

I found more water and ice, at a premium price, of course. There were some shady places under a tree not too far from his booth and I sat to watch him work. I saw him glance my way, waved and he returned the wave as another group of people came to talk with him. I have no idea how long I watched him as I sat, but I needed more water and ice very soon. Was it because of the heat of the day or the heat of what I was feeling while I thought about this guy?

I watched as he put up a sign “back in 30 minutes”. He walked over to me and I enjoyed watching him walk. A lot of tall men tend to walk with big strides as if they’re in a huge hurry to be somewhere. Not Darin, he walked slowly, gracefully, almost a saunter and he moved so well. This was the first time I’d seen him from “head to toe” and he was, indeed, captivating.

He leaned down next to me and asked if I was hungry (it was noontime, after all). I looked up to him, held his gaze (God, his eyes were beautiful) said I was, but not for food. His face showed some surprise, but not as much as I’d thought there would be. Was he interested in me as I was in him? He asked what it was I was hungry for and I decided to go ahead and risk it – you, I told him. He told me what time the art fair closed down then asked if I’d come to his booth about five minutes before closing, and we’d see what we were hungry for then.

I passed the remainder of the afternoon looking at the other artwork and purchased some hand blown glass. I’ve always loved the intricacy of blown glass and really enjoy watching how it’s done.

The time for going back to his booth arrived and I trekked over and spotted him talking with a few people just before the fair was to close. I also noticed the blue and brown painting was no longer on display. I was heartbroken that it’d been sold, I had hoped to purchase it myself.

He spotted me as I walked towards the booth and waved. I returned the wave and found myself, again, lost in thoughts of what I’d like to do to him, to see if I could make him sweat even more than the heat. The last customers left the booth as I approached. I stood at the front of the booth and was taken by surprise when he leaned over the table and kissed me on the cheek. Although he was probably more surprised when I grabbed his shirt, pulled him back to me and kissed him on the mouth.

He told me of a restaurant within walking distance which sounded good to me, and in an air-conditioned üsküdar escort place, I’d certainly cool off some. Not much, because I’d be with him, but some. I know we talked over dinner, which was pretty good as promised, but I don’t remember much of what we talked about. I was too involved in my own thoughts of him – what it would be like to kiss him again, to touch his bare skin, to lie next to him and feel the heat radiating from him, to drag my hair across his chest, to lick the inside of his thighs…..The waiter came by and asked if we were ready for dessert and I laughed as I told the waiter that no, we were going to be each others’ dessert. We paid the tab and left.

We walked back to the park to my car and I drove him to his car. Before he got out, I leaned over and kissed him, full on the lips. His lips were so incredibly soft, his tongue gentle as it touched my lip, wanting to explore my mouth. I responded, accepted him in, gently probing his mouth as we continued our kiss. I felt the heat he stirred in me flush my chest, my face. I reached out to touch his cheek, and felt he was as hot as me. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him closer to me, kissed him more urgently, felt the tingle of excitement in my pussy, the wetness spilling over onto my lace panties.

He went to his car and I followed him home. We were greeted by his black labs and had a great time playing with the dogs for a few moments. He told me to see what I could find for the CD player, then relax while he walked the dogs.

I knew what I wanted to listen to but he had none of it. I went to my purse and pulled out the CD I’d burned at home to listen to in the car. This was my “sensual” CD – incredibly heady music from Dave Koz, Brian Culbertson, Peter White, David Lanz and others. This was music, to me, that sounded like sex should feel. Hard to explain, easy to understand once it’s heard.

Kicked back on the sofa, eyes closed, I listened to the music, wrapped up in the sound and feel of it. I heard the door open and the dogs come into the house. He told me he’d be right back, he wanted to put the dogs in their room for the night. Not a problem, I thought, I’ll be here.

I felt him sit next to me, his hand touching my thigh, but not moving. I opened my eyes to look at him, suddenly seeing him shy and unsure of what to do next. I hesitated only a moment, then stood up, turned and straddled him as he sat on the couch, sitting in his lap.

I leaned in and gently kissed him. Softly on the lips, then on his cheek, his forehead, under his ear, down his neck and to the hollow in his throat. He was salty from the day in the heat and his taste was intoxicating to me. I kissed the other side of his neck, up to his ear, gently sucked on his earlobe for only a moment, then kissed his cheek and his lips. Those lips! Soft, moist, hot, waiting for me to do whatever I wanted to them.

I kissed him once again, my tongue touching his lip lightly, my teeth nipping at his lower lip. I felt his body respond to me, his cock growing hard under me. I kissed him deeply as I unbuttoned the shirt he had on, feeling the hot skin under the light cotton of his shirt. I leaned down to kiss his chest each time I revealed more of it as I unbuttoned the shirt. I moved off of him and kneeled on the floor, pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned the last two buttons. I moved his shirt away from his chest, my hands softly rubbed him. His breathing deepened, his legs closed around me, enveloping me in their warmth. Slowly, I pulled at his belt, unbuckling it, moving it away from the opening of his pants. I pulled at the button, flicked it open easily then pulled the zipper down. I saw the silky material of his underwear straining from his hard cock. I pulled at his pants, he raised up to allow me to remove them, to put them at his ankles.

As he sat on the sofa in his underwear and shirt, I looked at him and saw him looking at me, a hot, sultry look, begging me not to stop whatever it was I might do to him next. I lightly touched the smooth material that imprisoned his cock and felt him respond further, his breathing heavier, his cock harder. I tugged at the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down to join bjk escort his pants at his ankles.

I trailed my fingernails gently up the inside of his legs from his ankles to just short of the top of the inside of his thigh – I liked to tease. His cock was very hard, standing up tall and proud, his hands to his side, his eyes fixed on me as I reached to take his cock into my hand, dipping down to lick his balls and the underside of his cock. Again, his taste salty from the heat of the day but oh so erotic and exciting. I took the head of his cock into my mouth, my right hand massaging the shaft, my left lightly tickling his balls. I alternated between having just the head of his cock in my mouth and taking in as much as I could, sucking lightly as I brought him out of my mouth and into my wet hand to continue the sensation. I listened closely to the signals he was giving by his breathing, by his muscle contractions, and knew that he was coming closer and closer to his orgasm. When I felt it was oh so close, I’d shift what I was doing to back him down a bit in intensity. From the noises I heard, I knew I was frustrating him but it didn’t matter. At least not to me.

After getting him close several times, I let go of him, his cock still hard, his eyes still locked on me. I stood, kicked off my shoes, pulled my t-shirt over my head, reached into my pocket, palming something in there, stripped off my jeans and stood before him in my bra and panties (matching set of course). I resumed my straddle position as before but with his cock in front of me instead of under me. I leaned in and kissed him on the chest, lightly biting his nipples, his breathing heavier, kissed his neck, licking the salty sweat from him. He reached behind me searching for the clasp to my lacey bra, only to find there wasn’t one. I giggled softly and leaned back up, showing the hook in the front! I placed his hands on my breasts, the nipples hard from all the excitement. He pinched them through the lace, making them harder and causing me to moan. He unclipped the bra, the cups falling to the side, my breasts heavy and hot now on his bare chest as I leaned into him so that he could remove the bra.

He pushed me back after he tossed my bra onto the floor, grasped my breasts with his hands, his fingers pinched and twisted my nipples firmly. He somehow knew not to do it too hard, just hard enough to get to that pain/pleasure line, but not crossing it. He took my breast into his mouth, gently biting the nipple, while he continued to squeeze the other with his fingers. I felt myself getting wetter and wetter, the ache of needing him inside of me now overwhelmed me.

I leaned back, losing contact with his mouth. I looked down and saw his cock still so very hard and waiting. I stood quickly to remove my lace panties, then kneeled to again take his cock into my mouth, bringing him in and out, moving faster and faster. As his muscles contracted, I moved up, ripped open the condom package I’d palmed earlier, placed it on his cock then straddled him once again. This time though, with him inside of me, not under or in front of me.

It felt as though it was a long time before I was completely seated on him, the tightness of the fit so exciting to me. Once I was fully impaled, I began to rock back and forth as he rocked with me. I had my arms around his neck, pulled him to me to kiss him deeply, passionately as we continued to rock. I could feel his arms tightening around me, he legs beginning to tighten as well and knew he was close – this time, I didn’t want to tease him. I leaned back, held onto his neck with one hand while I placed the other between us to rub my swollen clit as he pounded into me, using my hips to guide me where he needed. Within moments he was coming, slamming into me as hard as he could which gave me all the extra stimulation I needed to fly over the orgasm cliff myself. My legs clamped on him as I came, hugging him tightly until it was over.

We didn’t move for several minutes but did find we were still breathing, so that was a Good Thing! After a few more minutes, I moved off of him, collapsing onto the couch and asked what was for dessert. We both laughed and kissed again. As we kissed, I felt him getting hard again. I had to laugh to myself as we started up again, that all I’d really wanted to do today was find some art to take home. But I think I liked the artistry of the artist even more – and could hardly wait to find out what he might have in store for me!

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Another Chance for Sara

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Blowjob

My name is Sara I’m 42 years old, I’ve been working as a carer for a disabled girl called Sharon for ten years.

During those ten years I’ve become best friends with her parents Anna aged 40 and Jon age 49 and even shared many holidays with them as my role of carer.

My home life is awful, I am in a loveless marriage and married to a selfish lazy arsehole of a man whose first thought was beer. We sleep in separate bedrooms because I hate him so much so there is no sex, not that he is interested or capable of it anyway.

I actually look forward to going to work every day and being with people that care about me, and being out of the hell hole I share with him.

I suppose I am envious of Anna in a way as Jon is a kind generous loving man, opposite of what I have at home. But I am also happy for her as he makes her happy. I flirt with him at times but know I would be in big trouble if it ever went further…or would it!

Anna and Jon moved to the area a few years before I started to work for them as Jon got a new job. Anna’s family live over 300 miles away but she visits them regularly.

I’m a curvy busty lady but regularly told I’m very pretty, men would often chat me up but I’d rebuff them as I felt a loyalty to my marriage, but I’ve decided enough is enough, after years of no love, passion or sex I want that to change.

I went into work one Monday morning a few weeks ago and Anna could sense I was upset, she asked what was wrong and I told her my husband had been contacting a woman on social media and had arranged to meet up for sex with her, he couldn’t manage it with me but was willing to fuck some whore. I’d discovered the messages they were sending when I needed to use his computer, and told Anna I’d decided that at the next chance I got I’d have an affair.

I told Anna all about my shit life, she already knew it was bad but she never knew just how bad it was and how desperate I am to find love, she comforted me and helped me through the next few days.

She became noticeably closer to me, she would hug me much more often than she used to and even told me I was beautiful.

I knew Anna was bisexual, and throughout her marriage she had quite a few threesomes with Jon and other women, and sometimes she’d sleep with women alone with Jon’s blessing.

It crossed my mind to ask her if her and Jon would be interested in letting me join them but if she took it badly I may lose my job. Anna told me a lot about her sex life with Jon too, she always said he was a very considerate and unselfish lover always making sure she was fully satisfied, I would often masturbate in bed thinking of Jon, they had recently bought a professional massage table and would give each other a full body massage that always lead to sex, I was really jealous and wished I had someone like him.

That night I went to my bed and fantasised how good it would be to have a threesome with Jon and Anna, I had never had sex with another woman before, but I certainly fancied Anna and would happily have sex with her, my mind was going crazy with lust as I rubbed my neglected pussy. The only person that had contact with my pussy for the last few years was me. I masturbated often and had acquired quite a collection of sex toys. But, I needed cock, I needed to feel a man want me, love me and feel him inside me.

I told Anna the next day that I was desperate to have sex to see if she would invite me to their bed, but she didn’t, but she did say that I’m looking very stressed and would benefit from one of Jon’s massages. I thought right, as you’ve mentioned it I’ll see how serious you are. I said “I’d love it but wouldn’t it make things awkward between us all,”

Anna explained that I wouldn’t be the first woman Jon has massaged and fucked as when they have threesomes he often does it before they all have sex.

Then she said something that changed everything for me. “Jon really fancies you, he’s told me many times he’d like to get his hands on you.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach and a tingling in my pussy, my voice started to stutter as I realised this may actually happen.

I said “are you serious?”

She said “I’m going away to see family next Monday, what happens when I’m gone is between you two.”

She then told me that she’d speak to Jon when he gets home from work and see what he thought. I was stunned totally speechless until she went on to explain that as she goes away regularly she’d rather Jon was with me than not knowing what he was up to, and Jon had never stopped her hooking up with other women, so it’s ok with her if Jon wants to fuck me, at least she knows I’ll look after him.

I couldn’t wait to get to work the next day to find out what happened, as I arrived I hurried in and Anna was preparing a drink as she does every day.

We sat at the table and spoke about Jon, apparently it went simple, Anna told him what we’d said and Jon just said he’d love to help out. That was it, I’d go to work next week and instead of doing my usual work escort bayan Jon and I would be having some fun, as Sharon was going away for the week with Anna. The next few days at work were a haze as I couldn’t think of anything else but Jon.

On Friday I finished work and Anna said bye and hugged me as usual, but this time she said “have loads of fun next week as Jon’s taken all week off. Do anything you want with him, live out all your fantasies with him.” Then she gently held my face and kissed me on the lips, it sent a pulse of electricity straight to my pussy. I wanted Anna, I wanted Jon and I wanted it now. I left and went straight to the shopping centre and bought some new sexy underwear to wear next week. I couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

The weekend seemed to last forever but eventually Monday arrived, I spent ages in the shower getting clean and shaved my pussy until it was perfectly smooth, I always shave my pussy as it gets very hairy if I leave it but I wanted it extra special for Jon. I put on my new bra and panties, I chose a dark purple trimmed with black lace set they even felt sexy as I slipped into them.

I arrived at Anna and Jon’s house and hopefully I was about to have sex, it was a strange feeling, nervous but oh so exciting. Thankfully Jon opened the door before I’d got out of my car, this pleased me as I wasn’t sure whether to knock or just walk in as usual.

I walked in and Jon closed the door behind me, his first words were “are you sure about this Sara?” I didn’t hesitate and replied “yes, 100%”

Jon took my handbag and put it on the floor then he held my face and kissed me with a passion that I never knew existed. I put my arms around him and kissed him back as I never wanted it to end. It was the right thing to do as it broke the ice between us and relaxed me. I was dressed in a skirt and blouse, Jon told me I look lovely as he usually only sees me in my work clothes. Just a simple compliment like that showed me the difference between a real man and the idiot I’d married.

Jon took my hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom. The curtains were closed there was an album of love songs on the stereo and the light was on but dimmed. It looked dreamy, I still couldn’t believe what was happening to me, but here I was and I intended to savour every second.

I sat on the edge of the bed not really knowing what to do, Jon must have sensed my nervousness and told me to stand, the top 3 buttons of my blouse were already undone revealing my cleavage, Jon slowly undone the rest of the buttons then pulled the blouse from the waistband of my skirt and took it off for me, he hung it over the back of a chair and said “mmm your bra is very pretty and sexy too.” As he was doing that I unbuttoned then unzipped my skirt and it dropped to the floor. I picked it up folded it and put it on the chair.

“Ooh matching knickers, wow you look so fucking sexy Sara, I can’t wait to kiss you all over.”

Jon then told me to lay down on the massage table face down, he then unclipped my bra and removed it. I thought I would be shy but I wasn’t, he had seen me topless on holiday but obviously never naked. “Would you like me to use massage oil Sara?”

“Ooh yes please Jon.”

I’d never felt more relaxed which surprised me considering the situation.

Jon removed his shirt but left his jeans on as I got comfortable on the table and awaited the massage. Jon said “what are the boundaries? Is there anywhere I can’t touch.”

I replied “I’m all yours help yourself.”

He parted the hair covering the back of my neck and lightly kissed my neck, immediately I felt my pussy pulsate as if it had been electrically charged after years of being neglected. He continued kissing me down my spine as his hand caressed my ass through my new panties. He suggested we removed them before using the oil as it might spoil them, I arched my hips up and allowed him to slide them off. Jon poured some oil into his hand then rubbed his hands together then using both hands gently rubbed the oil all over my back, from my neck all the way down to just above my arse. The feeling of a man’s hands on me again was amazing, I was in heaven. Using more oil he then moved down and massaged my arse cheeks, I could feel him parting them probably getting a look at my pussy at the same time, I slightly opened my legs so he could get a better look, by now I was horny as hell and felt my pussy dripping in anticipation of what was going to happen to me.

I heard Jon oiling his hands again and next he massaged my feet, lower legs then my thighs, he was teasing me by moving his hands up my thighs until less than an inch from my soaking pussy then down again. I opened my legs even more as an invitation to help himself to my pussy. He didn’t need a second invite and using two fingers started to rub either side of my pussy lips. Then he put his fingers just inside my lips and felt my wetness. Using the wetness he moved up to my clit and using slow circular motions he traced tuzla escort around my clit speeding up every few seconds, I could hear how wet I was and Jon said “mmmmmm that sounds nice.”

I could only answer with a mmmmmmm as I was so close to cumming. He then put his thumb inside my pussy as far as it would go and continuing with his fingers on my clit I couldn’t hold on any longer, I cum via another person for the first time in years. Oh it felt great and I greedily wanted more.

Jon told me to turn over, I’d by now lost any inhibitions I may have still had and turned over offering my body to him for his use. Jon said “you’re really sexy Sara, your husband must be crazy to treat you so bad.” I replied “you’re pretty sexy too, but let’s not talk about him.” as my hand reached up and stroked his manly hairy chest.

I looked down at his crotch and could see he was hard, his cock was almost busting his zipper on his jeans, I said “ooh Jon, I can see how hard your cock is, get those jeans off and let it have some fun too.” So he did, he took his jeans off and he was naked too, he wasn’t even wearing pants.

I stared for far too long at his cock, it’d been way too long since I had seen one, especially one as nice as his, the first thing I realised was its thickness, it wasn’t extraordinarily long, probably average length but it was really thick and my tight unused pussy was in for a treat. I laid back down on the bed and Jon told me to close my eyes, he then kissed me on the forehead moving down my nose until he reached my mouth, I thought it was strange but it was very erotic. He caressed my left cheek with his hand as he kissed me with such passion and my pussy was tingling again. I reached down his body until I touched his cock, I put my fingers around it and they wouldn’t go all the way around it, I stroked it a couple of times and felt it hardening, it felt so good to have a cock in my hand after a long long time. But Jon said “this is your day, I’m going to spoil you.” and moved my hand onto the bed.

He kissed my neck and I tilted my head back to allow him full access I’ve always loved having my neck kissed and this was pure heaven, it was sending shivers all over my body. He cupped both of my tits in his big hands as he continued kissing my neck, my nipples were already hard and he tweaked them between his fingers. He continued down from my neck towards my tits, and kissed all the way until he reached my nipple, he licked it so lightly then bit it gently before sucking on it like a starving baby. Then he moved onto my other tit doing the same. His hand was travelling down my body towards my hungry pussy, he cupped it into his hand and commented how soft and smooth it was, I’m glad I made the extra effort for him.

He put his first and fourth finger either side of my waiting wet pussy and with his middle finger he stroked up and down the length of it, we could both hear the wetness and smiled at each other, then he took his wet finger and wiped it onto my lips, he whispered to me to close my eyes, then kissed me full on the mouth, the feeling of my slippery pussy juice between our lips was really horny, I’ve never been one to taste my own juices but this tasted great and I’d certainly be doing it in the future. Jon moved his hand back to my pussy and continued fingering me as he kissed me again, he put his thumb on my tender clit and rubbed it in a circular motion making my pussy pulsate as I cum once more. My screams of delight were muffled as his mouth was on mine.

Jon moved me onto his bed now and I laid back as he kneeled between my legs, he took hold of my right leg and started to kiss it at my ankle, he kissed his way up my calf licking and blowing on his saliva and I could feel it going cold, onward he went as I held my breath in anticipation, he kissed my inner thigh and licked my juices that had dripped onto it, then using just his tongue he licked all over the surrounding area of my pussy, teasing me as I wanted that tongue inside me, first he licked my swollen clit and then I felt his tongue part my lips and enter me, I held his head and slowly started to grind my pussy into his face. With his tongue inside me his nose was doing a great job on my clit as I held his head in place. I said “Jon I’m going to cum” he just grabbed me and pulled my cunt tighter to his face. I took this as confirmation that it was ok to cum and I absolutely exploded onto him. I thought I’d never have these emotions again so it was amazing to feel like a woman once again and be treated so nice.

As Jon sat up his face was soaking and shiny with my juices, without a word he picked up his heavy hard cock looked me in the eye and put his cock just inside the entrance to my pussy, once again I held my breath and then felt it push the walls of my vagina open and fill my pussy completely. I’d never felt a cock like it, he asked me if I’m ok, I said “oh my god yes”. Slowly he pushed it in and out of me and I felt every thrust filling and emptying my soaking love hole.

He continued findikzade esc to fuck me and lifted each of my legs up and cradled them in the bent part of his arms, this allowed him to put even more cock inside me and now I had every inch in me, it was the most amazing sexual experience of my life. I hoped he could last and wow he could. He was a stayer, he fucked me for ages and the sweat was pouring from him making his chest glisten in the dim light. I could sense that I was going to cum and told him, he said in that case he’ll cum too, he thrust harder and I knew this was our time, I yelled with pleasure as every pore in my body tingled with orgasm and Jon screamed too as his cock pulsated with every gush of cum deep inside my pussy.

I then remembered that apart from a few quick strokes From my hand Jon’s cock had been neglected, that’s what he meant by ‘this is your day’, he totally spoiled me and I now knew exactly what Anna meant when she said he was so unselfish and considerate in bed.

I was so envious yet so grateful to Anna for allowing this to happen. She had a wonderful man and an amazing lover that she was happy to share.

I decided right then that my marriage was over, I wouldn’t let that idiot at home back into my life, I was happy with seeing Jon whenever I could so long as the arrangement was ok with Anna and Jon. They could use me as their sexual plaything if they wanted.

My sexual desire had just been reignited.

And it was only Monday.

————

When I arrived home on Monday evening I was in sexual heaven, nothing mattered to me except what an incredible day I’d just experienced and what the rest of the week would bring.

I realised how much I’d been missing a sex life and just what a selfish useless man I’d married.

I went upstairs to get changed and showered, whilst in the shower all I could think about was Jon, I was still horny and rubbed my already wet pussy until I cum as I fantasised about the rest of the week.

I woke early on Tuesday and couldn’t wait to get out of the house, but there was still three hours until I was due to meet Jon again.

I showered and had a quick shave of my pussy again to make sure it was perfectly smooth, I chose an all white bra and panties set and also put on some hold up stockings. I felt like a wanted woman once again after many years, and wanted to look my sexiest for Jon.

On the way to Jon’s house I was feeling incredibly horny, as Jon had spoiled me so much yesterday I thought it’s only fair to return the favour. I hardly touched his cock yesterday but desperately wanted and needed to now. I wanted to devour his cock.

I arrived and parked on the drive, Jon wasn’t at the door to greet me like yesterday but I felt more comfortable with the situation now so I let myself in and closed the door behind me. Jon heard the door and came out of the kitchen, he was making a drink and asked if I’d like one, I said yes and we took the drinks to the living room.

There was a three seater sofa and a two seater sofa, Jon sat on the three and I sat on the two. We talked about the events of yesterday and agreed we both enjoyed it, I suggested that I’d like to return the favour and Jon said “I’ll do whatever makes you happy.”

“I have an idea, when you get home tonight tell your husband you have to stay here all week day and night to look after Sharon as Anna has had to go away unexpectedly.” Said Jon.

“That sounds great, I’ll do it and pack some things and come straight back to you.”

I was now desperate to feel Jon’s cock and could already feel a wetness between my legs, and couldn’t wait any longer, I stood up and removed my clothes except for my underwear, Jon was smiling broadly and said “wow, you look amazing.” I sat back down and with one leg on the floor and one leg on the sofa opened my legs to give him a better view. I slid my hand inside my panties and started to play with my pussy, Jon couldn’t keep his eyes off me and was rubbing his cock through his thin shorts. I could see the outline of his cock pushing at the material of his shorts, I was fingering myself with two fingers and the noise was obvious, I was soaking and removed my hand and put them in my mouth and sucked and licked my cunt juice off. “I’m so jealous, I love the taste of pussy.” Said Jon. He took off his shorts, he had no pants on and his cock stood upright, I took my panties off and threw them to him, I continued to finger fuck myself as Jon put my panties to his face and licked the wetness from the crotch.

“I have a confession Jon, I’ve done this many times in bed at night while thinking of you and Anna, now I want you to watch how horny and sexually excited you make me.”

Using my thumb I encircled my clit as I thrust my fingers in my soaking hole, I was about to cum and pushed hard on my clit and screamed with pleasure as my pussy pulsated on my dripping fingers. I took my fingers from my pussy crawled over to Jon and with my cum soaked hand I grabbed his thick hard cock, I stroked it up and down soaking it in my cum, he closed his eyes and laid his head back on the sofa. I put my mouth around the head of his cock and tasted my lovely juices, licking up and down the length of his shaft and hungrily slurping up every drop of that juice.

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Another View of Amanda Williams

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Bdsm

I have written a great deal about my relationship with my ex husband. In some ways, it was the failure of that relationship which prompted me to become a Literotica contributor.

Recently, Kevin and I have found another sort of relationship. We now talk, in depth. And from that I have learned more about him, me and what was us.

I have also realized that there are always at least two sides to everything. This is another side to many of the stories I have penned for this great, erotic writing site.

Chapter 1

It must have been some sight. An eighteen year old, gorgeous looking bird with a mane of wild, chestnut coloured hair propped up against the desk in an office with a thirty-year-old bloke. The girl, her legs open, her jeans round her ankles, and her sweater bunched round her shoulders was being fucked. The bloke, his trousers round his knees, his shirt open was hammering into her. It was their first fuck. They were doing it in the ad agency where the girl worked as a junior copywriter and where the thirty-year-old bloke was a client. The copywriter was breaking the first law of advertising, ‘never fuck the client.’ The client was being a bastard and taking advantage of the new, young, junior copywriter who, fresh from university, was working on her first account.

It was a bit of a fucking mess, but both were too into each other to care.

It was an equally wild sight. A twenty-year-old girl with a forty-five-year-old bloke. The same bloke, a different girl and a different place. This time, it was a plush car, a hotel room, her flat or anywhere really, where the young woman was getting shafted. Similar scene though, skirt round her waist, blouse open, tits out of her bra and me laying behind her spreaded legs, fucking her.

Hi, I’m Kevin; I married the first one Mandy and had loads of the second ones.

I never loved Amanda, but then I have never loved anyone and aren’t really too sure what love is, other than it seems to be a fucking restraining order on what most men like doing most, screwing loads of birds. I did, and nearly every man I knew either did, or wanted to.

So, thirteen years of me and Mandy. Where have they gone? What happened, why did it all go so wrong? Simple, me and my dick: I just had to exercise it too much. So I exercised that, she found out, she forgave me, she found out, she forgave me; she found out, she kicked me out.

Simple straightforward and happening all the time. I guess on balance I did well, she only found out three times, there was, possibly, a hundred. That includes chicks I pulled, birds that worked for me (I considered it part of their induction to shag them), friends we had known for ages, hookers, massage parlor girls and, really, anything I could get my hands. Am I bastard or what? Don’t answer that.

She was a good shag, Mandy that is. Not that adventurous, but really enthusiastic and a quick learner. But, she was too conservative. I tried to loosen her up, suggested swinging or partner sharing, but all that ‘fell on deaf ears,’ just as did my requests for anal. In the entire thirteen years we were together She only let me into that lovely, secret passage twice, and one of those was with my finger!.

I tried to get her to relive some of her peccadilloes that I knew she had got up to at uni with other girls, but that got nowhere, well not until near the end. In fact, I think that when I got her to agree to go with Jenny, that was the end.

I was ‘relatively’ well behaved during the first few years of our relationship. That was the year or so we ‘went out’, while she lived with her parents, the six months or so when she shared a flat with two other girls and the year or so we lived together before getting married. I even kept up my ‘relatively good behaviour’ in the first couple of years of that.

By ‘relatively well behaved’ I don’t mean I didn’t have bits on the side. Of course I did, players always do don’t they? We can’t help it; it’s just the numbers that alter! So during that ‘honeymoon period’ with Mandy, I didn’t actually go out of my way to seek it; I more, rather let it find me. And enough did to keep me ticking over. But then that was when I was building the business and was traveling, by myself most of the time, all over the world.

I was a buyer, I was a boss, I was businessman, I was a big spender and those sorts of things attract pussy just like honey attracts bees. So I had enough cunt, my fair share, I was happy, I had nothing to prove.

Oh yes, I had given up using whores, well a man has to straighten himself up a bit when he marries doesn’t he? Hookers apart, I had women who worked for clients, women who worked for my or associated companies in places like Singapore, Bahrain, Qatar, Oz and the States, women who were also traveling on business (the easiest and the best by far to pull, excuse me, let come to me I mean, when on the road) and expats frustrated wives. All innocent, all just sex, all just bits on the side.

But back to Mandy.

After escort şişli that first fuck in the ad agency where she handled my account, well actually she handled my cock, balls and other parts of me as well, we saw a lot of each other and I don’t just mean without clothes!

I was building this oil-field equipment packaging business and needed an agency to write specialist ads to go in technical mags. I wasn’t a big spending client, so I go the junior copywriter. If she hadn’t been so fucking attractive I would have told the snooty account manager to shove it up his arse, but when I saw Mandy all I could think of was shoving it up her arse: that took five years in the end and may well have been the reason we stayed together so long. See I’m a patient guy really.

Chapter 2

At that time Mandy was slim. She had a gorgeous body. She was 5 6 or so and weighed less than 130 pounds. She had long, slender legs, a totally, flat stomach and nice little tits with wonderfully chewy nipples. And of course she had that great mane of wavy, shoulder-length, chestnut coloured hair that she had then that she kept all through our relationship and still has today.

Apparently, she had been studying English at Bristol University, but had got fed up and quit. Mum and dad as they usually do in such circumstances had firstly gone barmy, they so want to keep up fucking appearances that Mandy leaving uni, was, in their eyes as bad as her having a black baby!

But dad had connections and he used them. So, Mandy ended up as a junior copywriter in a well-known, West End ad agency. Sure, it paid peanuts, but it was a great training ground for a young bird, both in the practice of advertising, basically writing fucking bullshit and pretending you know more about everything than your client, and in life. London was far more swinging then, 1989, than it was in the time when it was famous for that.

So Mandy started learning about life in the big city.

I wanted to fuck her immediately Colin Blakeney-Smith, the Account Director introduced us. She was wearing a loose shirt outside her knee length, denim skirt that had, fashionably at the time, brass buttons all the way up the front. As girls did then, she had left several undone so that when she sat opposite me the skirt parted and fell away from her upper leg, which was crossed over her lower one. She had gorgeously tanned legs and seemingly bloody long ones. The tan had been gained as a ‘reward’ for flunking university by her overindulgent, snooty parents taking her to their house in Naples Florida for a couple of weeks, wankers.

I, of course, was totally mesmerised by her and the great display of flesh she was, seemingly innocently, flashing at me. I flattered her on the crap she had given me as copy and said how pleased I was to be working with, as CB-S put it, this ‘raw, new talent’, what a load of bollocks admen speak! Actually she was good with words; it was just the message that was daft.

Giving it all I had with my charm, staring at her, flattering her and trying to tell her with my eyes just how much I wanted her, I felt we made progress. We had a couple of meetings and a couple of lunches, but all the time CB-S tagged along, what was he, her fucking chaperone, I wondered.

Things went a bit flat with Mandy as I had a six week trip through the middle and Far East, Australian and back home via LA and Houston. Fucking hard work sees. We were able to keep in touch by fax, remember those? And the occasionally horrendously expensive phone calls, so I saw how the campaign was coming along: it was pretty good.

Once back in London I had two objectives: get the ad and marketing campaign finished and continue with my fuck Mandy campaign.

Oh, there was the minor irritation and inconvenience of me being married at the time, but as she was my age, actually a month or so older and had been a spur of the moment action a couple of years earlier, she was on her way out. The marriage was all over bar the paperwork, but due to a temporary cash flow problem, basically I had put everything into the business and was as good as broke, I couldn’t afford to end it, I did actually have a few birds on the go at the time, but none got to me like posh Amanda, as I thought of her: well that is when I wasn’t thinking of her naked, with my cock in her mouth or something equally sexy.

It all happened very quickly, far more so than I had expected, but not as fast as I had hoped.

I didn’t have that much to do other than work on the campaign so I started occupying more and more of her time, both at the agency and at my poky offices in the East End. We had endless meetings, long meetings and as I made them, flirty meetings. I bought her pizzas, took her to pubs and restaurants, mainly in Covent Garden near the agency. All the time we were getting closer.

We had popped out from the agency for some pasta and were returning at around seven or seven thirty. It was deserted. We had had a bottle of bostancı escort wine and y, I thought, Mandy asked if I would like some more.

“How, shall I go out and get some?”

“No there’s no need, all the brass have fridges stuffed full of beers and wine so that they can entertain clients. You’re a client, so I can entertain you.”

Bingo I thought, there’s the opening.

“I can think of other ways than wine Mandy.” I said looking right into her eyes. We were seated across a small coffee table on low chairs. She was wearing tight, blue jeans, which showed her great bum off to magnificent effect, and a thin, yellow vee neck sweater under which the swell of her little boobs was quite apparent. She looked great.

She smiled as she stood up.

“And how, I wonder, could that be?” she asked in a rather flirty manner, which was unusual for her. So far nearly all of her reactions to me had been dead straight.

I had at times wondered whether I was ‘pissing in the wind’ with her and that it might be best to forget trying to pull her. But then I would think of her lithe body, her nice tits, great arse and fantastic hair and I knew that not trying to get into her knickers simply was not an option. I had to try; men like me see no other way. I fancied her so she became a target and I had to try to get the bull’s eye, well you do, don’t you?

I stood up. Smiling at her and holding her gaze I said.

“Oh I think you can guess that Mandy.”

Again, that unusual for her coquettish smile as she said.

“I have no idea what you can mean… Kevin.”

By adding my name, after that short pause, Mandy seemed to change the context of the sentence. Until the word ‘mean’ it sounded that she genuinely may not have known, but by using my name, it was clear that she did. That put her in the game, that got her in play, that made her fair game.

We just looked at each other for a moment or two. I saw the signs: the slight smile, the wrinkling of the eyes, the small inclination of her head and the holding of my gaze. They were signs of interest, small signs but, to an experienced player like me, such meaningful ones that she almost might as well have taken her knickers off and said fuck me.

I moved a tad closer into her space, closer than people usually stand, close enough so that I could smell her perfume almost feel her heat, close in a way that was suggestive and enquiring. That’s always a good, non-verbal proposition. Get that close and leave it to the bird. She can move away, basically saying probably not, there isn’t a ‘definitely no’ in my world, or she can stay right there and essentially say the same as the small signs earlier had said.

Mandy didn’t move an inch or bat an eyelid. To be honest I was surprised. Pleased and fucking excited yes, but certainly surprised for she hadn’t shown many signs of really fancying me. Over the next few minutes, that all changed and how!

After muttering “I think you know exactly what I mean,” I closed the space between us and put my hand right on her hip. Again she didn’t move so then I really went for it.

She was quickly in my arms and our mouths were clamped. She was a better kisser than I would have guessed and she soon got her tongue as far down my throat as I got mine down hers. She was also far more into me that I had thought. There was little hold off or resistance, the fucking morals of the young has gone to pieces haven’t they? She didn’t stop me: kissing her deep, long and hugely energetically, crushing her body against mine, squashing her tits against my chest and running my hands up and dawn her back and onto her bum.

And she joined in. She: kissed me back as enthusiastically as I was kissing her, she squirmed her body against mine and she thrust her stomach as firmly against mine as I was pressing against hers.

When we broke the kiss for a moment I murmured. “Don’t you Mandy?”

Again that beguilingly flirty smile. “I’m beginning to get the idea now” she said putting both of her arms round my neck.

That’s always a great sign for a girl opens her chest up by doing that, it’s almost a signal to say ‘there you go, there’s my tits for you.’ Well that’s how I take it and how I took it then. And on the point of tits, when going for them I never believe in sodding around. None of this light touch first, then a gentle squeeze all outside the clothing before getting inside. No, I go for broke. Hand straight inside right on the tit, a few nice squeezes then get inside the bra. As the Yanks say, ‘It’s important to press the flesh.’ It’s also bloody nice and once you’ve got the girl’s bare tit flesh you’ve as good as got her.

And that was exactly how it went with Mandy.

I found out later that she had fancied me almost as much as I had her since about the same time; a minute or two after meeting in my case. So when I went for it she was pleased and was very much up for it. In fact, she admitted a few weeks later, I could have had her much sooner, nişantaşı bayan escort bloody women, you never know where you are do you

With her arms round my neck it was easy to slip my hand up her thin sweater.

I felt her body jerk and heard a sharp intake of breath as I cupped her breast. It obviously felt good for her, it certainly did for me, and she had nice tits. With such a positive reaction I didn’t bugger around at all. As we kissed again I slid my fingers inside her bra, which was a little too tight, and fumbled around trying to get her nipple. I found it and pinched it, again feeling that jerk in her body. This time it was mainly in her stomach and thus, that pressed right against my dick which had, of course, got hard. As our bodies had been pressed together during the hardening process, I hadn’t been able to fiddle my clothes around that my erection could grow vertically. Hence, it sort of grew with the top of it pointing downwards and thus, what she felt against her was more like a rounded tube than a thrusting cock. I’ve never quite worked how, when with a bird for the first time, you easily overcome that.

It didn’t matter, though for Mandy was now away. As I said, she may not have always been that adventurous, but what she lacked in that, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

As I fiddled both her tits out of her bra, she was moaning and groaning and pushing herself harder against me.

As I rolled her sweater up and got my mouth on her bare tits, she grabbed my head and ran her fingers through my hair.

I had both my arms round her, my hands stroking and squeezing her gorgeous bum so it was quite easy to maneuver her over to the desk. I pushed her against it so that she was almost sitting on the edge, more propped up I guess than sitting. As I did that, I reached down and adjusted myself so that my dick was at attention. I pressed myself hard against her shoving my knee between hers, opening her legs and giving my rampant cock access to her denim covered mound. She again gave that lovely little grunt as my length bisected the front of her lips, pressed against her clit and pushed into the softness of her stomach above her mound.

Kissing her hard, squeezing and rubbing her boobs and pinching and pulling her nipples, I crushed my cock against causing her to grunt and moan quite deeply. It was an, almost animalistic sound. For some reason that really turned me on as did, actually, the strong belief that she was going to ‘go all the way’ and in her fucking office no less, what a result!

I started to dry fuck her. I grabbed the cheeks of her arse, crushed my lips onto hers, pushed her head back, shoved my tongue down her throat and started thrusting my cock up and down against her. She was rolling her head from side to side, running her hands up and down my back and through my hair and pushing back almost in time with my thrusts.

Still, just about maintaining contact between my cock and her mound, I leaned back and reached down. I had got hold of the blue, pleated leather belt and undid the buckle and the button at the top of her jeans before she realized what I was doing, She reached down and grabbed my hands.

“No Kevin.”

“What do you mean no?” I said rather sternly. I get like that when turned down.

“We can’t not here?”

“Why not?” I said getting hold of the tab on the zip.

“It’s my office.”

“So? I bet half the horny fuckers have had it off in here.”

She didn’t take a lot of persuasion, must have been my impeccable logic. That may, I suppose, have been added to by mouth licking one of her nipples and my hand sliding between her legs and rubbing her pussy through the denim.

Whatever the reason, it was fantastic to see her wiggle her body as, together, we pushed the tight jeans down over her nicely rounded hips. She was wearing a pair of lemon coloured, bikini style panties. They were tight; they fitted snugly across her mound, and thin, so that the shadow of her pubes could clearly be seen.

She looked great so I kissed her again and pressed my, now, full erection hard against those lovely little panties, which I was determined wouldn’t stay where they were for long.

“Your turn,” I heard her saying from where my face was buried in her thick, lustrous hair: God I did, and still do, love her hair. One of the sexual tricks she did indulge me with when we were married, and there weren’t that many, was to lie with her head near my waist so that her hair tumbled all over my stomach. She would then run long tresses of it

all over my cock, balls and thighs. The silky touch of that on those sensitive places was like the most erotic massage imaginable, But it got better for she would then take a thick strand in her hand, wrap it round my cock and wank me like that, lifting her head at the last moment and letting me cum on her tits. Fantastic.

I lifted my head as she said and then felt her hand on my cock through my trousers. I reached down and unzipped and, far more confidently than I would have thought she would be, she slipped her hand inside right onto my cock outside my boxers. I didn’t want that, I wanted her to ‘press the flesh’ as well. In fact I wanted her to first press that flesh and take that bugger inside her.

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Endlich Traue Ich Mich

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Girlfriend

Personen

Ich (35)

Ein Älteres Paar (48/45)

Bisher war ich in meinem leben immer der dominante Part, aber mit der Zeit gewann die Fantasie die andere Seite kennenzulernen immer mehr die Oberhand. Kurzerhand begann ich einige Foren und Chats zu durchforsten. Ich postete meine Fantasie in der ich zur Sissy erzogen wurde und bereitwillig diene. In meinem Posteingang war eine Nachricht von Stefan und Anne. Sie erzählten von sich und schickten ein bild wo sie sympatisch wirkten. Stefan hatte eine Art die Dominant und gleichzeitig schützend war, während Anne gegenüber Stefan devot und gehorsam war. Gleichzeitig aber dominanz erlernen wollte. dann sollte ich zeigen ob ich es ernst meine, Ich überlegte und schoss schnell ein paar bilder auf denen ich nur ein paar strapse trug.

einige Tage später war ich mit Stefan in einem Park zum ersten kennenlernen verabredet. Pünktlich traf ich am verabredeten Ort ein als ich Ihn auf mich zu kommen sah. Er begrüßte mich freundlich und betrachtete mich einen Moment. ich glaube meine Nervosität war mit anzumerken und so übernahm er direkt die Führung, er erzählte das er bisher nur seine Frau Anne dominiert hat und escort bayan şişli es für ihn ebenfalls neuland ist. Wir gingen ein wenig durch den Park und er fragte nach meinem Grenzen und was ich mir wünsche. Ich erzähle, dass ich als sissy sklave dienen möchte… als er mich unterbrach und fragte ob ich mit zu ihm komme, dort könnte ich dann Anne kennenlernen. etwas zögerlich willigte ich ein.

Er öffnete die tür und als ich eingetreten war fragte er nochmals ob ich das auch wolle. Ich nickte und er schaute mich an. “also gut fangen wir an, dein Safe wort ist Rose. und nun zieh dich aus” forderte er sehr bestimmt von mir.

Zügig legte ich alles ab und merkte wie ich geil wurde. in meiner boxershorts wurde es schob ziemlich eng, als er merkte das ich zögere. “los weiter” sagte er diesmal klang es nach einem Befehl. mit einem leisen “ja” zog ich meine Boxershorts aus und versuchte mich zu bedecken. Er nahm meine Hände und führte mich ins Wohnzimmer wo Anne auf uns wartete. In Strapse, String und Bh begrüßte Sie mich und forderte mich auf die hände hinter den kopf zu nehmen. Nackt stand ich nun mit halbsteifen Schwanz da und wurde gemustert. taksim bayan escort Mein Schwanz war mitlerweile steif und man begann an meinen nippeln zu ziehen, man schaute sich jeden fleck an. dann musste ich auf allen vieren auf dem couchtisch knien und meine pobacken auseinander ziehen.

Es fühlte sich so erniedrigend an, aber doch machte es mich an.

Hände berührten mich überall und mein Arsch war weit offen, als ich etwas kaltes fühlte und Anne aufgefordert wurde mir den kleinen reinzuschieben. So gefüllt musste ich vor den beiden knien und mir wurden einige Dinge erklärt. Ab sofort muss ich Rasiert sein und vor betreten des hauses alle kleidung ablegen. Man würde mir welche kaufen sagten sie. Stefan erklärte mir das Anne mir alles was nötig beibringt und ich auch ihr gehorchen müsse. Ich Antwortete mit “ja” Vergaß aber Stefan Daddy zu nennen, was mit einem harten griff an meine eier bestrafte. Immer noch kniend stellt sich stefan vor mich, öffnet seine Hose. Wow er hat einen wirklich großen Schwanz. fast 20 cm lang und ganz schön dick. Anne nimmt ihn in die Hand und schlägt ihn mir ins gesicht. “mund auf und zeig was du kannst”

ich göztepe escort öffne den mund und lecke über deine Eichel. “bitte daddy mach mich zu deinem spielzeug.”

Und so knie ich mit offenem Mund vor ihm, bereit als Sklave zu dienen. Er schiebt seinen Schwanz langsam in meinen Mund als Anne meinen kopf greift und Ihm sagt er soll mich mal so richtig rannehmen. langsam schiebt er seinen Riemen immer weiter in meinen Mund. Ich bekomme kaum noch luft und muss würgen. unvermittelt beginnt er meinen mund bis zum Anschlag zu ficken, röchelnd und würgend macht Anne einige bilder. Kurz vorm kommen zieht er ihn raus und spritz mir alles ins Gesicht und ich muss ihn Sauber lecken.

Anne führt mich ins bad und ich muss mich auf allen vieren vor Sie knien…

Sie hatte den Auftrag mich zu reinigen und mich “parat” machen. Ich würde gründlich gewaschen und schließend wurde jedes haar an mir entfernt, ein Mädchen muss schließlich glatt sein. Als sie fertig war, sollte ich meine arschbacken spreitzen und spukte mir auf meinen Arsch und ich spürte etwas kaltes, wie es sich seinen weg durch ihre spucke zu meinem Eingang bewegte. Unsanft und unaufhörlich dringt etwas in mich ein. Als der Herr herkommt und das zufrieden mit ihrem werk ist, schaut er mich an und erklärt mir das die Sklaven mich trainieren wird. du wirst tun was sie sagt, ansonsten werde ich dich bestrafen! und nun zieh an was dort liegt!

Fortsetzung folgt..

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Breaking My Ex Boyfriend

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Blonde

All persons in this story are of legal age.

I’m Monica.

I’m stronger than you.

I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, I’m stronger than you.

I have hard, tough abs, strong veiny arms and my legs? They’re enormous. I can run, swim and bike all day long with very little effort and my calves are so big that I can’t wear boots.

Unlike most of the women who want to tell you stories, my face is average. Plain Jane average and I don’t care. I can grip your body against me and show you a night you’ve never even dreamed of being possible.

My biggest fantasies involve me using mind games and hot sex together. I love to use manipulation and femdom to show someone they’re inferior to me and then use them for sex. No whips, no chains, just a subtle lesson- I have a ripped, sexy body because I want to be buff as fuck and you don’t.

I have some stories I’d like to tell.

****

My favorite story about that was from a few years ago when I was dating this guy named Tyler. He was tall, handsome in a different sort of way, and very smart and confident. I worshipped that dick, too. He was thick and yummy. Big fat cockhead, veins on his cock and big balls. I could use two hands to jerk that cock and still have room to suck him, so believe me when I say sitting on that dick was exquisite.

I was leaner then, still in shape but not as hard or even muscular at all. I did yoga and pilates and kept my ass tight. I would wear really flattering yoga pants or booty shorts all summer and smirk when people looked at me.

Tyler was friends with this guy Ron. Ron lived somewhere else, but he was cute as fuck and had a small but sexy build. I still get a little wet when I think about how sexy his features were. He was handsome, sexy and a little quiet, not to mention better looking than Tyler. They grew up together and Tyler was always more outgoing and taller, but they went to different colleges and didn’t talk much for a while there. Ron was having a party- his girlfriend and Tyler and I.

As soon as I met Ron I knew I had to fuck him. He had these sexy pecs and big biceps. He had this sort of lazy smile and a tight body. You could tell he worked out but not that often- a little chubby in the right places.

When I met him I giggled and insisted on giving him a hug and it made Tyler nuts. He didn’t like it all. Ron had been working out when Tyler had been sitting on his ass eating junk food and watching movies. That big dick was his saving grace.

Anyway, we all started drinking and I got wasted. I had to fuck and looking at Ron was getting me wet. My clit twitched a little each time we talked and I was laughing at everything he was saying. I grabbed Tyler’s hand and dragged him into a bedroom and I grabbed on his dick playfully as we went up the stairs.

Tyler locked the door behind us and even locked the bathroom door because he didn’t want any company. I found out later than Ron usually went in and fucked most of Tyler’s girlfriends after, and sometimes during the relationship. What a bad boy…!

I pulled out Tyler’s dick and started suckling that big cockhead. He loved it and pulled off my top and as I was dropping to my knees, I heard a key in the door.

I can barely type this because I’m so wet and my hand is in my pants.

Ron opened the bedroom door just as I was on my knees about to suck Tyler’s cock. He had to know what we were doing, but he was grinning ear to ear.

“Fuck, dude!” Tyler shouted. “Get out of here, I locked the door!”

“Just making sure everything is okay around here.” And then he looked at me as Tyler covered up his cock a little.

“Are you okay, Monica?” Ron asked, completely drawing out the moment.

I grinned sheepishly a little bit, sneaking a peek at his pants to see if he was turned on. I could see a bulge and I swear that fucker saw me and smiled.

“Okay, just let me know if you need any help with this guy.” Then he pulled back his shirtsleeve and flexed a bicep I was totally surprised by. Ron was a fucking beast for sure. I needed some dick right then and I didn’t care who fed it to my pussy.

The door closed and I could tell Tyler was rattled by that because his friend had not only seen his dick but he still wasn’t used to his friend being so much stronger than him.

HA!

I dropped back to my knees and sucked that flaccid cock until it turned hard again, all the while wondering how big Ron’s cock was. I fantasized that Ron was the one slowly grinding into my mouth with a hand on the back of my head. I used one hand to guide and stroke Tyler and reached into my pants with the other one, flicking and teasing my clit. I was so wet that I had to take my pants off and sit on a cock right away. fatih escortları

Tyler’s was nice, but I was curious about fucking a strong, muscular man and my smaller body being in charge of him. And Ron acted like a guy that was hung like a mule. In my experience a guy that shows a lot of quiet confidence is packing a fucking hammer in those pants.

Tyler took some time to get going but it was nice to sit on that fuck rod and make him slam me into my spot. It was hot, fast and intense. I made him cum inside me because I wanted Ron to cum inside me. What sent my body into the most intense orgasm I ever experienced was thinking of Ron fucking me and Tyler having to watch while he jacked his cock and then once Ron pulled his powerful body off me, I’d lay there in ecstasy and not let Tyler touch me. I fantasized about him having to sit there next to a stronger man who just fucked his woman and being unable to do anything but watch.

We cleaned up in the shower and Tyler thought he was this big stud, as usual. All arrogance and proud of how hard I made him explode into me.

My ass was spectacular and I knew how to ride a cock, so I know I’m a great lay, thanks. I was then and I’m better now.

****

I went downstairs to get a drink as Tyler watched TV and I ran into Erica, Ron’s girlfriend. She and I had never met but she came up to me giggling.

“So I hear you gave Ron a show!”

“Yeah, he used a key to get in. I was in the…middle…of something.”

Erica gave me this knowing grin. “I heard. Tyler’s dick in your hand.” She laughed. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have them both, you know? Close friends, big cocks and me.”

I shot her a sidelong glance to play it cool but I was already getting wet again. “Ron’s got a big dick?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, huge. I heard Tyler is supposed to be big, but this girl Amy told me that Ron is much bigger. Tyler dated her and then Ron came in later when she was on the rebound.”

Fucking bad boys! So hot. I knew I had to have him someday.

“She wasn’t on the rebound, she was just looking for a friend.” Ron came around the corner. “What are you girls talking about, now?” He grinned knowingly.

We both grinned and told him not to worry about it. I went back upstairs and watched Tyler eat junk food and watch movies on TV while I heard Erica and Ron having very loud, angry sex. Tyler just turned the TV up and rolled his eyes, but I wished I was down there sucking that big cock.

****

Tyler was such a fucking bore. All he wanted to do was have lazy sex and watch TV. It got old really fast and we fought all the time. He ended up calling me and telling me he was bored with me too and I was so offended that it blew my mind. Why should I care about a guy like that blowing me off?

Still, I was offended and my feelings were a little hurt, I’m not going to lie.

Guys, a girl will try to screw your best friend if he’s even a little attractive after you have a bad breakup. It’s just a thing we do.

But Ron, with his looks, his brains and his muscles, I had to fuck him as soon as I was single again.

Tyler was really confident about it at first, but he saw that there weren’t a lot of girls out there who wanted him. Pretty soon I started getting texts asking how I was, what was going on, what was new.

But by then? By then I was working out five days a week and turning my body into a lean, sexy instrument. I didn’t do a lot of weights, but I did a lot of leg exercises and squats to define my ass. I decided to drive him crazy and tell him little things about myself when he texted. I’d tell him I was working out a lot and that would make him really wish he hadn’t dumped me.

Me: “Oh, I’m good. Just a lot of working out.”

Him: “That’s cool. How is that going?”

Me: “Great! I’m getting really strong! Look at my legs!” And then I’d add a photo of my legs with me in my sexy pink gym shorts.

And then nothing. I always figured he would be furiously jerking off that cock by then.

I had been going to the gym for about three months and changed my diet entirely. Candy and the occasional bag of chips turned into protein shakes and fruit. I boiled chicken. I ate carrots. The results paid off and by the end of the summer, I had a tight, sexy lean body with sexy big calves and small biceps to go with my four pack. And my ass was spectacular. I loved to show it off and have people stare. A couple of my friends asked if I had implants but I’d just laugh it off.

Tyler had been dangling long enough and so I decided to text him.

Me: “So, is Ron still with Erica?”

Him, a few minutes later: “Uh, no. Why?”

Me: “No reason. Well, actually, can sarıyer escortları I have his number?”

Him: “No. I don’t want you two together.”

Silly boy. Like that would stop me!

Me: “I just need some workout tips. Don’t worry, nothing will happen.” Big old fucking lie, right there.

Him: “Okay, because I really think you’d like me better now, I’ve changed.” Yeah, yeah, numbers, bitch.

And then he texted me the number to Ron’s phone. I felt so nervous, like I was in middle school about to call a boy. I may have looked sexy, taut and athletic but I was being totally ridiculous!

I decided to go on the offensive and text Ron a photo. I found a sexy top and tensed my abs and made a duck face. It was a nice photo because my abs were so cute and flat. I remember thinking that if I was lucky, I’d feel that cock in my stomach and I giggled.

Ron responded with a photo of his hand on top of a bulge in his underwear. I could see that it was big, thick and long. I needed a second to catch my breath before I replied.

He beat me to it. “Like what you see, sexy?”

I replied back: “I’m trying to be a lady” and I was already fucking myself on my hand, thumb on my swelling clit.

‘What would you say if you weren’t trying to be a lady?”

Fuck it. “Your cock must be huge”

Him: “Why don’t you see me tomorrow and find out?”

Me: “Sounds good, give me an address.”

****

We didn’t text anymore after I got his address. I wanted him to be a total surprise for me. He was.

I came to the door of his apartment with sexy burgundy nine inch heels and a short skirt. I wore a tight blue top with pink buttons that showed off my tits. I wore these sexy earrings that dangled, and my hair was up.

I forgot how short Ron was, and I towered over him in my heels. At least Tyler was tall, but…

I wasn’t the only one who worked out all summer. Ron was shredded. His arms were veiny and his chest was hard and tight. Our hug was electric and I was already turned on.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I put my hand on his chest before he could say another word and watched him smirk in between suckles of my tongue and lower lip. I had to see that cock.

I dropped to my knees and tore his military style belt open and ripped it out of his pants.

I fumbled with the button to his pants and unzipped his fly, but it wasn’t very easy because his hardening cock was making this very difficult.

Ron was bigger than I even dreamed. His pants fell back and his tight underwear showed a giant bulge. I trembled a little as I pulled down his underwear in one tug and saw the biggest cock I’ve ever seen come at me. It jerked up as the underwear came down.

It was beautiful. Ron’s thick, hard cock had veins and a purple cockhead that dwarfed Tyler’s. His balls were huge and the veins were angry looking. It was a perfect, beautiful cock and I slowly reached to grip it because I was in a daze. I reached for it and put it in my mouth…as much as I could fit in…and then Ron lifted me up and carried me to his bed. I was like a bitch in heat because I wanted to sit on that big fucking dick so much.

He gently dropped me to the bed and told me to strip down for him as he jerked his cock. Ron’s cock inflated and grew bigger and bigger. His balls tightened against him and I watched his biceps bulge as he jerked his big cock and grinned at me.

Top, skirt and shoes flew across the floor.

I laid back and undid my bra and tossed it at him, grinning, and then Ron lowered himself on top of me. We kissed and he rubbed my swelling clit with his big cockhead and I thought I was ready to explode.

I surprised him and pushed him to his back and then I put Ron’s big cock into my mouth. I was greedy and I stuffed it into my mouth, loving the sweat and his thickness. The rumors were true, he was so much bigger than my ex boyfriend. He had strong abs and big calves. He had a chiseled jaw and he had arms that any girl would want to squeeze. I was about to fuck a fuck machine.

I sucked him so fast and so greedily that I thought Ron would cum in my mouth like Tyler used to. Nothing, just him enjoying it and getting harder. Then I lifted myself up and onto that big meaty cock.

Have you ever fucked a guy that is so big he feels like he fills every inch of you? Ron. That was him. This motherfucker was so big that I felt him in my stomach and I kept lowering myself. It was like fucking a baseball bat. His cock was scorching hot inside me, inch by inch spreading me and filling me. He was hard but spongy at the same time. It was amazing and beautiful.

By the time I was used to him and working on a rhythm, my very wet pussy was sliding over the length maltepe escortları of his big shaft. There was so much to him that I would lean back and be surprised about how much size he had. We were fucking angrily and it was hot. Moans from me and growls from him.

He pounded my G spot over and over and I felt that hot thick cock touch places inside me that no other cock ever reached. It was like he took some missing part of my virginity with that inflated fuck rod.

I felt the orgasm build up but I ignored it because I was so in the mood to keep fucking this big dicked bad boy. I watched the sweat build on his face and his perfect chest and I leaned down to kiss Ron as I kept pounding him.

By the time the orgasm exploded in me it had been building up in my feet, my hands, my neck, and the waves I usually felt when I came were replaced with a hot throbbing and I couldn’t move. I slowly eased off that still-firm cock and noticed Ron hadn’t came yet.

“Anything wrong?” I panted.

He gave a short laugh. “No. You just didn’t tell me I could get off yet.”

…I’m still wet over that.

“Cum, baby. Give me that cum right now.” I started to jack him off and I put a finger into his asshole suddenly, feeling for his prostate. Suddenly this beefy, muscular man was writhing and moving around and moaning, so I really enjoyed sucking and jerking that big fat cock like it was my toy. It was.

I saw him starting to get close, so I jerked him even harder. I pulled my finger out of his ass and pointed to my mouth over and over.

When Ron came, it was the thickest, heaviest cum explosion I’ve ever seen. It splashed my face, my mouth, my tits and my neck. He shot rope after rope of creamy, yummy cum. Boys who work out know how to make those shakes and make a tasty cum treat.

He threw his head to the side and panted, chuckling a little. I was still orgasmic and feeling like I had a pretty incredible conquest. This beautiful, muscular big dicked boy was not only able to fuck me like a champ but he knew how to let me pleasure my cunt on that big fat cock of his.

Only one thing was missing.

I hoped the night would go well, so I thought I’d have some fun with Tyler.

I went into the bathroom and took a shower, washed all the cum and sweat off me and restyled my short hair. I put on my purple bra and sexy thong panties and posed in the mirror. Yeah, this looked about right.

I texted Tyler.

Me: “Hey, you up?”

And then I did a pose in my underwear- side shot showing off my sexy ass through my thong and flexing my small but impressive bicep with some cleavage showing. I was smirking to hide my just-fucked grin.

I took a selfie and texted him before he could reply.

Him: “Whoa, dude. You look amazinggg…!!!”

Me: “I know. Like my new body?”

Him: “Yeah. Can I see it in person? :)”

Me: “I don’t know, I like big cocks. Maybe you need to measure it to show me how big you are with a tape measure.”

Like magic, that text came back with a photo of his cock and a tape measure. 6 and a half inches and thick. Same as it ever was. This was so naughty…

Me: “That’s pretty sexy. That deserves another picture.” I can still imagine the leering face he probably made to that.

I went back into the bedroom with my phone. Ron was worn out like he just got fucked hard and finger fucked by an athletic woman who wanted his nuts for months. He wasn’t asleep, more like being lazy and catching his breath.

I slowly started to pump that big cock and I slipped my finger into his ass again as I grinned at him.

He was surprised but into it.

“Shut up and enjoy it, you fucking slut. You better give me that big cock.”

He grew harder by the second after hearing that. I watched him tense his abs and straighten up his pillow, giant biceps swelling and tensing. Hot. I slapped that big dick against his thigh a few times to hear the smack.

Ron’s cock stood at full attention and his balls were nice and tight again. He was one hung bastard and I loved it.

I gripped those balls and gently nibbled his cockhead. “Feel like a joke on Tyler?”

****

I talked to Tyler after this, but it was never the same. He was much more desperate and needy to talk to me because I showed him up so badly.

The last photo he got that night was of me gripping his best friend’s huge cock in my hand and raising my eyebrow as Ron was nibbling my ear and playing with my tits.

Me: “Nice cock, but Ron’s much bigger than 6 and a half inches and he fucks like a champ. Can you give me a ride over here the next time I sit on this?”

Ron was really into that. He went three more times that night, and we dated for a while. The worst part was Tyler acting weird about it, but I didn’t want him to be left out.

We sent him photos and he never complained. I like to think he was turned on by watching my tight body do dirty things to his best friend.

The End

….Of this story, but I have more.

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Bukket Ch. 05

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Anal

I was still wearing the same clothes. I got up from the bed. There was a small coffee table next to a couch. Some food was kept on the table: salad, bread, fruits. But I felt too groggy to feel hungry.

I went to the attached bath. To my delight there was a bathtub. I ran a hot bath and sank into it.

I spent nearly an hour in the bath. It took away the sleepiness and invigorated me. I also realized that I was hungry.

I came out of the bath and dried myself. Then I put on my clothes and sat down on the couch next to the coffee table. I took time eating. There was also a thermos filled with coffee.

I poured some coffee into the cup and got up. I tried the door but it was locked. I didn’t expect anything else. Then I discovered a package in the cupboard. I opened it. There were clothes inside. There was also a short printed note. It asked me to change into the clothes that were there in the package and leave my clothes on the floor in the bathroom.

I opened the package and took out the contents. It was a peculiar combination to say the least. There was a white t-shirt and a beige knee-length skirt with a black waistband. There was a white lacey bra and white panties, also lacey. Then there were a pair of white cotton socks and — I found it very odd — a pair of white elbow length gloves. Who wears gloves with t-shirts?

I knew that I would be given some dress. Tiffany had told me that. But I was not expecting this. I was sure that I would be given some skimpy hugging clothes which would reveal things more than hiding them. The last thing I expected was a perfect crewneck t-shirt and a knee-length skirt. Even my hands and feet were going to be covered by the gloves and the socks.

I sat down on the bed and examined the items. But there is only so much one can do by looking at clothes. Finally I decided that there was nothing left to do but to put them on.

I got up and started to undress. I felt rather silly when I had removed everything. It felt almost embarrassing to stand naked in this unfamiliar room. With a tingle in my spine I remembered that I didn’t even know where this place was. I picked up the panties and pulled them on.

It was a fine piece of lingerie. It had felt good in my fingers but it felt even better against my body. I was not much used to wearing lacey undergarments. bayan escort merter And this one was a perfect fit. I had a suspicion that it was tailor made for me. Few of my own panties felt so comfortable.

The bra felt like it was grown on me. This time I had no doubts that it was indeed tailor made. I moved in front of the mirror. It did not only feel good, it also had a fabulous look. There was no ribbons, only cotton and lace. It looked utterly classy.

While I could not say that I had a heavy frame, I was not particularly thin either. But these undergarments complimented my figure in the best way I had seen so far. Instead of making me look slimmer, they had given me a full-bodied appeal. I was also endowed with a most sensual cleavage.

I could live for days on end without the slightest bit of discomfort in these undergarments. I wondered if they would let me take them home. Then I suddenly had a thought. I looked for the tag in the panties. When I found it a smile appeared on my face. It was a small white tag with ‘Evelyn’ written in red letters. These guys surely knew how to flatter!

I had expected the t-shirt to be a perfect fit and it did not disappoint me. The material was thin and light. It was very slightly stretchable and hugged my body in the exact way I would like it to.

The next was the skirt. It was a high waist vintage beige skirt with a black waistband. It was the type where the t-shirt had to be tucked into the skirt. It was a light comfortable piece. I slipped into the skirt and tucked the t-shirt carefully into it.

I pulled on the socks. As long as I was standing not an inch of skin could be seen on my legs. I picked up the gloves and slipped my hands into them. They reached up to my elbows. My upper arm was bare as the t-shirt was a short sleeved one. I looked for shoes. And could not find any. I searched everywhere but there were no shoes. Apart from a pair of bedroom slippers the only other footwear were my own shoes. I left them where they were for the time being. The room was carpeted and I would not need shoes right now.

There was nothing left to do but wait. There were no books, no TV, no magazines. There was nothing to kill some time with. It was 5 p.m. on the bedside clock and I had no idea how long I would have to wait.

Most anadolu yakası escort bayan of the time I found myself standing in front of the mirror. I had never thought that I could look so sexy. The clothes had fit me so comfortably that all my movements had become fluid and almost graceful.

The front of the bra was almost entirely made by lace. The part that was in contact with the areola and the nipple was all lace. Same was true for the crotch of the panties. The whole outfit made me both look and feel utterly feminine.

But one can admire herself for only so long. Soon I was restless. Nothing was happening. Minutes stretched into hours. And then finally I heard footsteps and a key was inserted into the lock. I looked at the watch. It was a little after 9 p.m.

The door opened and a woman entered. “Hi!’ she said.

“Hello!” I replied. The woman was wearing a denim micro mini and a tank top. “Who is going for the show?” I asked myself, “She or me?”

As I stood up from the couch she looked at me from head to feet. I could see naked admiration on her eyes. Was she a lesbian? But she had already moved on to work. She picked up my clothes from the bed and carried them to the bathroom. Then she took out a cosmetics box from her bag and said, “You need to be done up a bit. Just the most basic stuff.”

And it was basic. She tied my hair in a simple bun and fixed it with pins. Then she wiped my face with a wet tissue and applied some mascara and eye liner to my eyes and finished with some lip gloss.

“That will do,” she said as she stood up. And before I could open my mouth, she was gone.

I stood in the middle of the room. She had not locked the door. I thought about opening it but then gave up and simply sat on the bed. After about five minutes the door opened the same woman walked in.

“Time to go,” she said, holding the door open.

I stood up and suddenly I was afraid. I felt dizzy. I felt like I was walking to a firing squad. I held onto the table and steadied myself. I kept telling myself that there was no other way but to go for it now. If I do not go then they will drag me forcefully. But still for one instance I missed my bookstore terribly.

The woman was standing quietly. I pulled myself together and said the first thing that bayan escort besiktaş came to my mind, “I…I do not have shoes.”

“You won’t be needing them much. For the time being you can use them.” She indicated the bedroom slippers.

Silently I slipped them on and walked out of the room.

She took me straight to an elevator at the end of the corridor. We went down two stories and then the elevator stopped. We both came out. She opened the double doors right opposite the elevators. I followed her and walked into a hall.

The first thing that cought my attention was that it was extremely crowded. I stood undecided at the door as every single head turned towards me. I felt a shuffling beside me and saw that the woman went out of the hall and closed the door. When I turned my face back to the hall I found a man walking towards me.

He came to me and gave his hand. “Good Evening!” he said. I shook hands with him. “Please come,” he said. I followed him and reached an end of the big room. There was a raised platform there. A wooden pole stood near the back of the platform. There was a little empty space behind the platform where some boxes were stored.

He led me onto the platform and faced the crowd in front of us. I turned towards the crowd automatically.

“Guys…here she is!” he said with a dramatic gesture. There was an ear shattering sound of clapping and applauses.

I could not believe what I was seeing. There were at least three times as many people as I have seen in the movies. Here were more than hundred. The crowd was a mixture of people from various ethnicities and backgrounds.

Were all of them going to cum on me?

“I bet you guys can’t wait anymore,” he told the crowd. Crowd roared. “I thought so,” he continued, “so let me just get on with the preparation fast.”

He turned to me and said, “I am sure you would like to get started. There is just one thing we need to do before we start. You see, bukkake is all about cumming on face. Loads of cum on the eyes or on the face can sometimes cause discomforts and the recipient often tries to remove it with her fingers. Now, we don’t like that. We don’t like that at all. Cum stays where it lands. And if it has to move it will trace its own path. That’s our philosophy. Unfortunately, there is a nasty thing called instinct and it makes women raise their fingers to their faces, even if we had told them not to. We absolutely do not want that to happen and so we often put physical restraints on the recipient.”

He paused. I looked at him dumbly. He understood.

“I am going to tie your hands behind your back,” he said.

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Camille

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Blindfold

Some years ago, I took an adult-education course in figure drawing at NYU. The class met in a large artist’s studio in Greenwich Village, just off Washington Square Park. There were about a dozen students, ranging in age from mid-20s to mid-50s. Each of us sat on an uncomfortable stool before an easel, on which was mounted an oversized newsprint pad, tilted at an angle comfortable for drawing with a pencil.

The teacher was an ancient, bejowled creature with moist basset hound eyes and wiry gray hair that spoked out wildly, like Einstein’s. She wore a loose cotton Indian tied-dyed dress that you can pick up at any New York street fair for ten bucks.

The students, mostly businesspeople, I suspected, were much better dressed. A quick scan of the women’s arms, legs, and faces revealed nothing of interest, but then the model for the session, who had been standing off in a corner in a blue terry bathrobe, mounted the platform bearing the bench on which she would sit as she posed for us in the nude.

Even in the robe I could see that she had a boyish build, with small breasts, narrow hips, and a hard little ass. She was short, about five-three, and wore her straight, light-brown hair short, swept back over her ears and tapering to a point at the base of her neck. It made her look vaguely butch.

Her face had a skull-like aspect. Her eyes were sunken and dark-ringed, her cheekbones protruded beneath tightly stretched skin, and her cheeks were hollow. High on her right cheek was a swollen red sore that might have been an emerging pimple were it not the size of a silver dollar. I wondered if someone had slapped her around recently.

Her face, aside from thick eyebrows, was hairless, nor were any traces of hair visible in the V the lapels of her robe formed across her chest. But the sleeves of the robe only extended to the crooks of her arms, revealing hairy forearms the likes of which I have yet to see again. The fine brown hair began at her wrists, where it was about a half-inch long, and then continued growing longer and longer as it spread upward. At the swell of her forearms, it had to be eight or nine inches long.

The hair was neatly swept back over her forearms as if brushed, with the longest hairs extending well beyond her elbows—not up her arms but out into the air! I could thread my fingers through those long silken tendrils as easily as the hair on her head. I could feel her arm hair without actually coming near her arms.

The robe extended to her mid-thigh, exposing the lushest display of female leg hair I have ever seen in the flesh. It was the same light brown as the hair on her arms, and while it wasn’t spectacularly long, it was spectacularly dense. The thicket of soft curls began abruptly at her ankles and spread up her legs in an ever-more-flagrant carpet. And her coverage was superbly even: The backs of her legs were as hairy as the fronts, even her knees were dusted with beckoning curls, and her exquisite forest proceeded straight up her thighs without letup as far as the hem of the robe would reveal.

When the teacher directed her to disrobe, nobody batted an eyelash, but my eyes were as wide and burning as Dracula’s at the sight of blood. Loose curls hung from her inner thighs, leading up to a crotch that was engulfed in long thick curly hair. Viewed from the side, her bush jutted out from her pubic mound in an awesome star burst, with the longest, thickest hair–that surrounding her hole–forming a tail of hair between her legs a good eight inches long.

Her hirsute profusion totally covered her ass cheeks and sprouted out of her ass crack like fine fountain spray. And yet, while the hair flowed down over the backs of her thighs in long looping curls, it didn’t spread up onto the small of her back. Nor did she have a treasure trail. It was as if a genetic line had been drawn around her waist. Below, she was as furry as a cave woman; above, she was hairless, except for the nipples on her pear-sized breasts, which were encircled by long, corkscrewing hairs; her armpits, each of which sported a full thatch; and her thickly haired arms .

The teacher instructed her how to pose. She was to sit back on the bench, using one of her arms for support. She was to put one foot on the bench so that her leg extended out at an angle. Her other leg was simply to dangle loosely in a position that exposed her hairy cunt. But from where I sat, I couldn’t see it. I picked up my pad and pencil and found a free easel that afforded a better view of that feral forest, as the teacher gave me an opprobrious eye. Normally timid in this sort of situation, I was propelled by lust.

“Start drawing,” the teacher announced.

A true artist strives for economy of line. I have seen sketched portraits by Picasso and Matisse that brilliantly captured the subject’s psychological essence, yet consisted of little more than a single perfectly drawn line. I drew my lines in small, hesitant segments–the mark of an amateur. Nevertheless, I have a talent for reproducing shapes fairly accurately, if not particularly pleasingly, escort bayan topkapı and after an hour, a reasonable likeness of the posed model began to emerge on my pad.

At this point, I found myself in a creative quandary: Precisely how much detail should I include? I had drawn the woman’s face and figure well enough with my mincing, unconfident strokes, but her most salient feature–her extraordinary hairiness–had yet to be sketched in. I glanced at the work of the students–both women–on either side of me. Their portraits contained no trace of body hair. I faked a stretch and yawn, got up, and wandered around the room. Nobody was drawing the model’s hair. Simply acknowledging her hairiness seemed to violate a social taboo.

I returned to my easel. At that point in my life, while I had spurted countless gallons of semen jerking off to fantasies of hairy women, I had never revealed my predilection to a soul. “Ah, fuck it,” I thought. I began to sketch in her hair, using fine interlayered lines to capture a sense of its lushness, particularly along the length of her legs and around her crotch, where I felt I did justice to her extraordinary tail of hair.

The crone who taught the class was moving from easel to easel, making quiet comments. When she approached my easel, she bent toward my sketch. Squinting, she scowled, as if to say, “Oh, you filthy beast!” She then continued on without a word.

At the end of the session, the model enrobed and wandered among us, checking out our work. “Boy, you really got how hairy I am down pat,” she said to me as naturally as if she were complimenting me on how I’d drawn the line of her nose.

“I was inspired,” I replied. “You’re the hairiest woman I’ve ever seen. I’d love to photograph you. Are you available as a photographic model as well?”

She gave me a mysterious smirk, then without another word, she went to the far corner of the studio where her clothes hung from a peg in the wall. She tugged on a long-sleeved sweater and wide-leg black slacks. Had I not seen her in the raw, I would have never guessed how hairy she was from how she dressed. What little of her that was showing was hairless. It made me wonder how many other women who cover their arms and legs are secretly hairy underneath.

Boldly, I went up to her. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” I said. “We’ll discuss your rates.”

I followed her out the studio door. We went to the first Greek diner we came to. You’re never more than a few yards from one in New York. This one was decorated like a vineyard. Plastic bunches of grapes hung from a trellis mounted on the ceiling. We slid into a booth. The waiter, who looked like Quasimodo in a tux, took our order: two coffees, black.

“So, do you want to photograph me or fuck me?” she said forthrightly.

“Well, both,” I admitted. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated for a long moment. “Camille,” she said finally.

“Are you gay?” I asked, since we were being direct. I thought there was a good chance she was.

“Most of the time,” she replied coyly.

“How did you get that bruise on your cheek?”

“Ah, my pimp knocked me around–that fucken cunt!”

“Your pimp is a woman?”

“Yeah. I told you, I’m a lezzie.”

“So your–er, johns–are women, too?”

Camille nodded. “We call them janes.”

Cute.

The waiter set our coffees down with a clatter, slopping liquid into the saucers, then lumbered off.

“Do you ever fuck guys?” I asked.

“Not since high school,” she said. She looked in her late twenties.

“Then what did you mean when I asked if you were gay and you answered, ‘Most of the time?'”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking.” She shrugged.

“Thinking what?” I pressed.

“Thinking that I might like to try it again.”

“With a guy.”

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

I sipped mine, too, and smiled at her. She wore a pouty expression. She gave me a fake smile in return.

“How about me?” I ventured. “Could I be a candidate?”

She shrugged noncommittally. At least it wasn’t an outright no. The thought of fucking a hairy lesbian was so exciting my cock felt like it was going to snap in my pants.

“What about posing for pictures?” I asked.

“But no sex?”

“Is sex an option?

Again the smirk. “Fifty.”

“What?”

“I charge $50 an hour to pose.”

“Get out. Painters’ models only get $20.”

“That’s not one on one.”

She was clever, I had to give her that.

“Okay.”

“Up front.”

I fished out my wallet, withdrew two twenties and a ten, and gave them to her. “I don’t know how many hours I’ll need,” I said. “This is for the first hour. Let’s go.”

I lived in Greenwich Village myself at the time, on Bleecker Street between Charles and Tenth. My building was fairly modern by West Village standards. It was a large gray-brick box, six stories tall, and latticed with ugly black fire escapes all around. But it had doorman, an elevator, and a roof garden, escort bayan kadıköy and it was on a pretty stretch of Bleecker Street that actually looked like the visions people imagine when they think of The Village: French antique shops, quaint cafes, clothiers catering to denizens of the gay bar scene, leafy trees, historical ghosts.

My apartment was a small one-bedroom. Actually, I had converted the bedroom into a home office–I was a freelance copywriter–put my queen-size bed at the window end of the living room, walled it off with sliding Japanese Shogi screens, and had a love seat, a tub chair, and two large floor pillows in the small space that was left.

“Sit down.”

I beckoned Camille to the love seat. She took the tub chair.

“You want some wine?”

“What kind?”

“Chardonnay.”

“Is that red or white?”

“White. Cold.”

“Sure.”

I poured us each a glass, handed Camille hers, put mine on the round glass-top coffee table, and went get my camera gear.

“Smoke a joint first?” Camille asked. She reached into her pants pocket and produced a big doobie, slightly bent.

I got an ashtray, took a seat on the love seat, and patted the cushion beside me.

She hesitated, as if considering the implications, then out of what seemed more practicality than anything else, she got up and sat down beside me.

“Spark it,” I said.

She produced a Bic lighter, lit the joint, took a deep hit, and passed it to me. I did likewise and passed it back. It was good stuff. By the third toke I was wasted. I took a swallow of wine to rid my mouth of the dryness. Then I kissed her. I did it quickly, without warning, because I knew that if I gave her the slightest advance notice, she would rebuff me out of habit. I pressed my lips hard against hers. She grabbed my shirt at the shoulders tightly, but I couldn’t tell whether she was resisting or not. I kept working my lips against hers. Then she uttered a soft moan and I could feel her jaw relax. I thrust my tongue into her mouth. She started breathing hard and hot. She clutched my hair as she tongued-kissed me back. I thrust a hand between her legs and rubbed her crotch. Hard. Her legs fell open and she humped against my open palm. Her breath quickened.

Abruptly, she pulled my hand from between her legs.

“I thought you were going to take pictures.”

“Oh.”

I already had a good buzz, but I sparked up the joint, took another hit, and passed it to Camille. After I blew out the smoke, I said, “Well, get undressed.”

She rose, and in three quick movements, she stood before me naked. In the studio, I had admired her from a distance. But now, viewing her extreme hairiness up close for the first time, my previous awe was renewed. The hair on her arms and legs bristled out enticingly. Even though her pubic hair was matted from being enclosed in her panties, the pressed hair was so thick it swelled up from her crotch in an incredible hairy mound. I had made her wet when I fondled her, and several clumps of hair around her hole were encrusted with her dried juice.

My TV was by the bed. I asked Camille hold her arm near the screen. Even though she was a foot away, the static electricity created by the screen made all her arm hair, from wrist to tricep, stand straight out; it nearly covered the distance.

“Your arms are unbelievably hairy,” I murmured.

“Does that turn you on?” she said coyly.

“Yes.”

She clasped her hands behind her head.

“And do you like my hairy armpits?”

“They’re incredible. You’re as hairy as a man.”

She seemed to take pleasure in his observation.

“Fluff up the hair in your left armpit,” I instructed.

She tugged at the hair. “Like this?”

“No, that’s not quite right,” I lied. “May I?”

She nodded.

I began to separate her armpit hairs individually, feeling their delicious length as I pretended to arrange them artistically. Her hair was slightly dewy and gave off a rich musky scent.

“It’s taking you an awful long time,” she said.

“Done.”

I snapped off two shots.

“Now lick your armpit.”

She did as she was told, her long tongue snaking into her thick aromatic thatch.

“Did you like that?” Camille asked when I had my shots.

“You know I did, you little tease,” I replied. “Say, do you mind if I get undressed? I think better creatively without clothes.”

She considered it. “How do I know you won’t just take me and hold me down and fuck my brains out?” she said.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

She didn’t answer. She rubbed the hair on her arms, threading her fingers through the long silken forest. “Okay, you can take your clothes off,” she said.

I stripped them off. My cock was rock-hard and twitching. Camille looked at it. “You’re pretty hairy yourself,” she said. “And big.”

“Do you like that?” I asked. Two could play this game.

When she didn’t reply, I asked, “Would you like to touch it?”

When she made no escort bayan fındıkzade move to do so, I took her hairy wrist and drew her hand to my cock. I could feel the thicket of curls on her wrist tickling my palm. “Go ahead, take it,” I said. “It’s not going to bite you.”

She grasped my penis in her hand. She felt my hairy balls and ran her fingers through my pubic hair. She started jerking me off. Then suddenly she stopped, letting go of my cock as it throbbed for more. “Don’t you have more pictures to take?” she asked.

My boner was twitching in swollen agony, but I reached for the camera. “On the bed,” I instructed. “On your back. No, don’t lay down. Sit up, but at an angle, propped up on your elbows. Now spread your legs. Wider. Wider. Come on, show me your whole hairy crotch. Now, take your right hand and with your fingers spread your cunt lips apart so I can see your clit.”

Her clit was enormous: two inches long and thick as pencil. It hung limply above her hair-engulfed cunt lips.

“Wow, that’s a big one!” I marveled.

“Do you like it?” she teased.

“Does that thing get hard like a cock, or is it always sort of drooping like that?

“Oh, it gets quite hard,” she said.

“Then make it hard,” I instructed.

She began to stroke her long clit. I could see that she was getting wet again. I could smell it. And then, there it was, hard and twitching, a glistening pink nub tapering to a dark-tipped point, jutting straight out of her forest of pubic hair.

“That’s great. Hold that,” I said. But by the time I got her erect clit in focus, it had wilted. She jerked herself off again but couldn’t get it back up.

“Mind if I try?” I asked.

“Do you know how to eat a woman?”

I grasped her legs by the ankles and ran my hands through her leg hair, feeling it prickle at the swell of her calves, feeling the thick curls carpeting her inner thighs, thrusting my greedy fingers into that glorious bush. I spread her cunt lips to expose her clit. The scent of her cunt was intense. I took her clit gently between my lips and began to suck it like a little cock. It grew rock-hard against my tongue. It was so long in its tumescent state that my head was actually bobbing up and down while I sucked it. I bit it gently, raking its full length with my teeth, my nose buried in Camille’s cunt hair, and she began bucking hard against my face.

So violently was she humping that I had to clutch her hairy ass cheeks to keep her from throwing me off. While I was at it, I spread them wide, totally exposing her hairy asshole, and plunged a finger inside.

She went crazy as I sucked her throbbing clit and finger-fucked her shithole with abandon. “Oh shit, oh shit!” she moaned. “Oh, suck my big clit, baby. Suck my monster.”

When she came, she grabbed my hair, mashed my face into her hairy crotch, and began to hump in an extensive series of short quick thrusts. I could feel her hairy thighs locked against the sides of my head as she ground her cunt hair into me. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” she cried as she shot her load.

I climbed on top of her, thrust my cock into her mouth, and fucked her face vigorously. Her hollow cheeks pulsated as she sucked my hairy dick. “Let’s sixty-nine,” I said. “You get on top.” Camille did as she was told, squatting over my face. I grabbed her tail of hair with my teeth and gave it a playful tug.

“Oh!” she cried, and shoved her hairy crotch into my face.

A moment later, my cock was engulfed in the wetness of her mouth. I ran my fingers through the lush curls on the backs of her thighs while I tongued out her hole, sucked that stupendous clit, and licked all the hair on and around her pussy.

I lifted my head and ran my tongue through the thick hair sprouting out of her ass crack. She responded by licking my hairy balls, taking one of them gently in her mouth, and plunging a finger into my asshole. I spread her ass cheeks wide, opening her hair-fringed asshole wide enough to afford a glimpse of its dark recesses, and plugged the gap hotly with my tongue.

Camille responded in kind, and we licked each other’s hairy assholes for several exquisite minutes. The punky taste of her shitter excited me even more.

The time had come to fuck her. Earlier, she had fretted that I might take her against her will. I wondered if that’s what she really wanted me to do. There was only one way to find out.

“I’m going to take you now,” I announced.

A quick reversal, and I was on top of her. “You are so hairy,” I said. “You know you want me to fuck you.”

She tried to resist, locking her hairy legs. I grasped her ankles, taking a moment once again to run my fingers through the coarse hair covering her calves, and pried her legs apart. Her hole was wide open, ready for me to enter her. Her fully erect clit twitched like a pink wand. The long hair surrounding her hole was fragrant with her juices.

She tried to push me away. I grasped her hairy arms by the wrists and pinned them over her head on the bed as I rammed my cock into her to the hilt. “Oh baby, you are so big,” she gasped as I entered her. I could feel her moist forest of hair grinding up against mine. The bristly hair of her thighs rubbed against mine as well. I was pumping into her hard, with piston-like thrusts, and she was humping up to meet me each time.

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Blasphemous

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Sacred Heart Academy for Girls is a beautiful campus, nothing but hills and green fields and trees. It houses two hundred girls total, grades ten through twelve. It’s a great school that looks excellent on any transcript. It has its own shops, its own restaurant, and the most beautiful little chapel with stained glass windows.

Pilar Duarte fucking hates it.

She’s legal, but barely. She developed early and has very large breasts. Cuts her hair off too short, wears her jewelry and attractive little thongs and ruffled boyshorts with the otherwise unflattering uniform for no other reason than to annoy the nuns. The black wool skirt is gross-feeling, but it’s bearable when she rolls it up to show her knees, which are covered by the stupid standard white socks anyway. She’s bold and kind of brash, with a little taste. Her bag is Italian leather, this nice cream colour, and there’s always a book in it along with the verboten makeup and sugar and usual trappings of a late teenage girl. She likes esoteric movies and reads stuff like Hunter S. Thompson and H.P. Lovecraft and James Joyce in her spare time.

Hell, when he knocked, she was lounging on her dorm bed in her rolled-up wool skirt and oxford top, listening to One Direction on her little pink Ipod while reading Portrait of the Author As A Young Man. She was laying very unladylike, as Mother Superior would call it, but it’s comfortable and nobody will see up her skirt anyway. She has an Orange Crush open and balanced on a book beside her and a little yellow wrapper next to it, nearly devoured. She eats Ibarra right out of the plastic, cuts it up into little sandy pieces, and sucks on them until they’re spicy chocolate residue.

“Who’s there?” She called through the closed door. “I don’t feel much like dealing with your pedantic bullshit, Melesinda.” She swears a lot, but it paces naturally with the rest of her speech. You can tell just by listening to her talk comfortably that she started from the bottom but is educated and cultured now. The penguins (her term for the brides of Christ) don’t know what to do with her, and frankly, neither does he, but she’s his problem now.

Enter Cazador Moreno.

The rest of the lot call him “Father.” She calls him Abbe’ in that inflammatory, flippant way. She’s either seen Quills or knows decent French, he thinks, potentially both.

He’s startled her. It’s around five o’clock. Classes ended at three, extracurricular stuff just got out. She was half-expecting a visit from Mother Superior Head Penguin Herself Benigna Bautista. Very likely for her interrogation of Sister Ester about how exactly the tides prove that God exists. She popped out an earbud and sat up a little, careful to not lose her place. But it wasn’t a sky blue habit in the doorway. No, she’d heard about him but never seen him before. Abbe’. Father Moreno.

“May I come in?” he says, voice even and surprisingly pleasant. He can’t be over thirty, she thinks.

“I don’t know why you ask, it’s your room. Your building, you know.” She removes her headphones and pauses the pink postage stamp.

“You pay for it. I just run the circus,” he says. He’s tall, but not imposing. In one hand, he has the worn brown leather bag of legend. The girls said that in extreme cases of bad behavior, he’d take a Bible and beat the offending girl until she cried and gave no more trouble. Pilar didn’t believe it. He just looked too…nice. He had kind eyes, wide like her own, but a much darker blue. He’s slim and his clothes fit him well, she noted. Her eyes drifted to his belt and she wondered what was hiding behind his pants. He had big hands with thick veins. Surely it wasn’t just his hands.

“Please sit, Abbe’. Can I get you an Orange Crush? I think there may be a Sprite in there şişli escort somewhere.” She gestures idly to the tiny fridge set up near him. He takes a seat at her hutch desk, which is cluttered with both books for enjoyment and finished homework she hasn’t gotten around to organizing yet. She’s unsure what to do. It’s been months since she’s even seen a man. She looks to the floor, thinking of her shoes tucked under the lip of the bed. Maybe put those on? What does he want? The room is untidy and her cheeks go pink.

“I just wondered if we might have a chat,” he starts, depositing his bag on the floor with a dull thud. “I’ve heard you’ve been having a lot of trouble adjusting.”

Great. This whole thing again.

She’s silent, watching him. Unlike Her Royal Penguinship, he doesn’t even seem ruffled. It’s weird.

“To be honest, Abbe’, this wasn’t my choice. None of it was.”

“Such is life. We do what we can with what we have, though. Is there anything I can do to perhaps make this less difficult?” He stood again, paced around the room, looking at things.

“It seems you have everything you need to be quite comfortable here. Your parents send money to your account and everything.”

He stopped by her TV and nightstand, a mess of cases and DVDs. It wasn’t big, but it was nice enough. He picked up a few and looked through them.

“Cartoons. Not a big deal. I quite enjoy Family Guy myself. Haa, that part about the SuperDevil gets me every time.” He put it down and continued idly searching.

She didn’t know what to make of it. A priest who watches Family Guy? Didn’t they all take a vow to surrender any sense of humor?

“I don’t suppose Mother Superior has gotten into that jar of marmalade,” she says, a maddening half-smile covering her face. Despite himself, he smiles. Bautista grates on his last nerve weekly. If it’s not girls supposedly worshipping Satan (Benigna, it’s a pop music star. No, that’s not a real meat dress.), it’s a busted light bulb in the gym’s ceiling or a request for “more modest” uniforms. For the love of God himself, they already had near-ankle-length skirts and oxfords, knee socks, and church-issued underpants that looked more like tea towels than anything. So yes, he tittered a little.

“Pilar, you’re an intelligent girl. Your entrance exam scores left nothing to be desired. You study and you turn in your work and ace your exams. But you bedevil the nuns in the worst kind of way. You ask these uncomfortable questions, you refuse to bow your head in prayer, and at confession…” he was on a roll but had to stop himself. Then he decided better of it. “…I must say, that’s some of the most creative penance I’ve ever had to figure.” Perhaps he could get through to her if he illustrated that neither was he perfect?

“Tell me, what’s going on with you?”

“Abbe’, I’m bored.” She said, simply and honestly. Well, it was true. She had no challenge to her mind here. The more zealous girls were mostly simple anyway, and the studious ones were too prim and closed-minded. She did have but one friend, but that was more a marriage of convenience.

“Bored?”

“Bored. Yes. Simple as that. I had no choice to come here. My parents dropped me here like I was unwanted luggage, and I have to fit in with these…” Her brows knitted and she struggled for a good word. “…people, and I have nothing in common with anyone, I am above the coursework, and most of it is tainted rubbish anyway.” It felt good to finally be able to say what she’d wanted to. The nuns never listened. They pulled her aside, dealt punishment, sent her away, and never even cared about anything. It was infuriating. But this wasn’t so with Moreno. He listened. Though at the moment, he had a few books and DVD cases ümraniye bayan escort in his hands.

He took a seat at the desk again.

“Why do you have my things?” She said. He sighed, and held them up, one by one.

“Story of O. Exit To Eden. Lolita. I’ve heard of these.”

She blushed crimson.

“And this…what is it? Secretary?”

She was silent, but burning up.

“Pilar, I know you know the rules. This subject matter–“

“Abbe’, I’m eighteen years old. I’m a legal adult. The subject matter is nobody’s business but my own!”

“I beg to differ. Until you graduate, it’s my business, and it’s your parents’ business. Do they know what you read and watch?”

“How do you think I ended up here?” She scoffed.

Moreno was silent for a few beats. He set the items down on the desk.

“Listen…I know more than you think.”

They talked for an hour or so. He understood her better than any human being at this horrible place had so far. He told her what drove him to the sanctuary, what made him choose this life. He told her that it was his mission to guide those that were on the wrong path to the right one. He finished, telling her that he knew she was wrong for this situation and there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“But Father!” She accidentally used his correct title in her shock.

“I thought the entire reason for you becoming a priest was to…you know, guide the misguided.”

“Oh, it is.” He said. “You just don’t seem to understand quite what I mean by that.”

Her eyes scaled the wall behind him. She was genuinely puzzled and he liked it.

“Pilar, let’s be frank. Let us cut the bullshit, as you say.”

She looked shocked once again. A priest that swears?

“I’ve read your file. I know all about your situation at home. Your father is an international arms dealer and too busy globe-trotting to deal with your shenanigans. Your mother is a devout Russian Orthodox who has no idea what to do with you. They sent you here because you were fucking a man twice your age and they found out about it.”

“Father, we weren’t fucking. We’d never had sex.”

That was the truth, he could tell. Her grey eyes were wide and focused. Her gaze didn’t drift like a liar’s did.

“That’s surprising,” he said.

“Well, I was exploring my options,” she said.

“I know about Melesinda besides,” he went on. “If what I’ve heard from the nuns is true.”

“You got me there,” she rolled her eyes. “What else am I supposed to do in this place? I can’t very well date the nuns.”

He had to chuckle at this. He knew as well as anyone places like this bred homosexuality, usually the harmless experimental kind. Sometimes a girl would find her true calling, but most of them just got a taste for it and then abandoned it for traditional roles when they inevitably left school behind.

“What I mean to say is that you completely misunderstand why I’m here.”

He stood up and walked to the door, removed a large keychain from his pocket to lock the door, and then deposited the keys on her desk.

“I guide the misguided. You do not belong here. You’re too bright, too experienced, too much of a thinker. And I don’t mean this building, though that’s part of it. You don’t belong in the church.”

She watched him carefully, going over and bringing his bag up to the chair he had occupied. He undid the various zippers on it as he spoke.

“Your personal affects confirmed my suspicions. Now, Mother Superior sent me here, true. She told me to deal with you because she didn’t know how. I knew exactly how to deal with you when I saw your file. I’m here to offer you a deal, Pilar.”

He began setting down objects that were familiar to her escort bayan nişantaşı on the desk on her things. The first was an obscene shade of pink and studded, with many falls like so many cats’ tails.

“You’ve been wonderful to talk to. You have been intelligent and respectful in the time I’ve spent here. Then again, I was engaging your brain. Based on your choice of literature and entertainment, I’d say you have a healthy appetite for the non-pedestrian.”

One was flat, wooden, and huge. You could have mistook it for a cricket bat. One was long and thin and yellow, very phallic. Two pink balls on a string. Three golden balls on another string.

“Pilar, I’m giving you a choice. I will entertain you the best I can. I’ll let you out of your spiritual counseling hour and see you in my office and we’ll talk. Movies, books, anything you want to talk about. I’ll get you access to the staff library. And once a week, I’ll come to your room for private counseling like we’ve had today…”

One more, this one nearly ten feet and black. Another, a spiky silver wheel. Another, a studded leather belt that looked worn.

“…and the opportunity to explore your other curiosities in a safe and controlled environment. This is what I’ll do for you…all I ask of you is to behave yourself in class, stop causing upset with the other girls, and stop giving the sisters a hard time.”

She didn’t have to think twice. He cared about her stagnating brain, he wanted to nurture it. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was handsome and near-about the age she liked in men. She saw the implements on her desk and realized how much the space between her legs ached. She became acutely aware of both the moisture building there and the scent that must be wafting. She thought about it for a minute, and almost laughed. A priest bribing her with conversation and sex to act better? Ha! But the more she thought about it, the better it sounded. It would give her everything she really wanted to be comfortable here.

“You’ve got a deal, Abbe’. Do we start the rest now?”

“If you like.”

“Oh, I do. Very much so.”

He stepped to her and unceremoniously slid his hand up her skirt. She should have been outraged, she should have been anything but turned on and curious. But really, she didn’t care about propriety. Someone had tickled her mind and obviously wanted more than that. God, she hadn’t even laid eyes on anything male since August when school started, and it was February now…

She just had one errant thought.

“Father, aren’t you celibate?”

He pushed her panties aside, twisted his fingers in her slippery folds, and smiled.

“Nope.”

*****

The morning sun peeked through her blinds. The room was a bigger wreck than it had been before, but it’s okay. She had the most glorious post-sex hair possible…all poofy and wavy and stupid. Her new bruises all ached, from her shoulders down to her pert ass, to her thighs. Both holes were sore. Her school uniform laid forgotten on the floor with his tab collar and shirt. He was so fucking gorgeous asleep. Naked, uncovered by the blankets. She checked her phone.

“Hey, wake up. We have stuff to do today.” She said.

“Hrmrmrmrmrmrrfff.”

“Sir, wake up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“DANE. WAKE UP. WE’RE LATE.”

“Felix, you kept me up too fucking late. I need some rest.”

“Suit yourself. I’m showering, picking up in here, and doing the dishes. We really do need to start packing, though.”

He made an upset noise and turned over.

“Sir?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. Thank you. That’s probably the best, most intense scene I’ve ever done. You totes get the Oscar for Best Roleplay Evar.”

“Love you too. Fuck off and let me sleep, dear.”

Felix smiled to herself as she picked up the clothes and last night’s toys for cleaning. Sir Dane really did think of everything. Maybe he ought to be an actor someday? It’s clear he wasn’t cut out to be a man of the cloth.

She, however, was the perfect schoolgirl.

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Best Summer Job Ever!

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For 30 days so far this summer my job as a lifeguard at Spankas County Country Club had sucked. Stuck with the early shift it was my job to watch the pool from 6AM to noon and clean the men’s changing room and toilets both before and after my stint on the pool. Needless to say it wasn’t quite what I envisioned when I applied for the job. All the hot girls in bikinis didn’t show up until an hour or two after my turn watching the pool had ended and I was stuck with the middle aged office drones getting in an hour’s swim before the office. Basically I was wishing I’d taken that job washing cars at the local dealership like my buddy Mark did.

Day 31 however was different. I wandered into the pool area at 5:05 confident that my boss would never catch on to my technically late arrival at work as he was as likely to be awake and at work at 5 in the morning as a polar bear was to be wandering down a beach in Hawaii. All should have been quiet, yet there was the unmistakable sound of someone swimming. I checked the gate and sure enough it was unlocked, with a key that wasn’t supposed to exist hanging around the handle. I strode in to the fenced off area, the full force of my 19 years, high school diploma, one year of university and 30 days of employment at the Club my full claim to authority. A woman was doing laps in the supposedly of limits pool.

“Hey, you can’t be in here, the pool is closed!” I shouted loud enough that the woman in the water would be able to hear me.

The woman stopped abruptly, shocked by the interruption, her head popping above the surface with a confused expression on her face. “Who are you? Where is Dave?” she asked.

I thought back to my first day on the job and what I’d been told about the guy who was the morning lifeguard last summer. “Dave graduated from University this year; he got a fulltime job as an accountant. What does that have to do with you having a contraband pool key though?”

She flushed red, whether from the exertion of treading water or from getting caught I don’t know, before swimming over to the side of the pool and hauling herself out in front of me. With a single movement she removed her goggles and swimcap, shaking out her hair and smiling. “Dave and I had an arrangement last summer, I slipped him a 20 every week and he let me use the pool before it officially opened…”

I examined her closely. 40, 5’5, dripping wet and with long brown hair, she had a body that a woman half her age would envy. The black one-piece swimsuit she wore was both modest and revealing in equal measures, not showing nearly as much skin escort şişli as any bikini, but clinging tightly to reveal her athletic body. Finally this job at the pool was providing the kind of sights I’d been dreaming about all summer.

“Dave was breaking the rules then too. Having someone in the pool without a lifeguard on duty is an insurance issue. He’s lucky he didn’t lose his job and I’m sorry but an occasional 20 bucks isn’t enough to get me to risk mine,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

She pouted, a playful gleam in her eye. “Well I suppose you’ll just have to get here a little earlier to watch me while I swim, won’t you Mr. Lifeguard?”

I thought about it for all of a millisecond. “Let’s say you gave me a hundred dollars a week. I can guarantee to get to work a little early to supervise you while you swim. You understand however that as it’s outside the pools normal operating hours I’ll have to watch you very, very, closely at all times? Purely to keep the insurance company happy of course,” I grinned.

For a moment my heart stopped with trepidation, but luckily she smiled back.

“That’s fine with me; we wouldn’t want to upset the insurance company,” she winked.

“Of course that doesn’t address the fact that you were here unsupervised this morning. There ought to be some sort of penalty for that,” I ventured, doing my best to push my luck as far as it would go.

A grin to end all grins flashed across her face. “What are you going to do Mr. Lifeguard, spank me?”

I gulped and flushed red, hopefully for only a second. I had actually been looking for a little bit of extra cash, but this could be even better.

“Why not? You’ve been a naughty woman after all,” I said with as serious a face as I could muster.

“You wouldn’t,” the woman said confidently.

“I would,” I replied. I sat on the nearest sun-lounger and patted my lap like I knew what I was doing and was sure she would comply, despite the fact internally I was almost certain she’d laugh her head off and walk away.

The only reason she seemed to hesitate is that my concept of time seemed slower than usual. To my delight she lay down on my lap, dripping water onto me as she did so. She turned her head to look at me and stuck her tongue out. “You’re right Mr. Lifeguard, I’ve been a very naughty girl. Do what you have to do.”

I pondered for a moment if she might be playing chicken, expecting me to back out at the last second. After all, she was twice my age and probably didn’t think I’d be crazy enough to spank a 40 year escort bayan taksim old woman like her no matter how gorgeous she was or how enticing her butt looked. If you’d have asked me half an hour ago I’d have agreed that I wasn’t that crazy. Turns out I am though. I ran my hand across her damp swimsuit clad backside and smiled. Just for a moment I swear there was a moment of trepidation in her eyes.

“Very Naughty,” I repeated as I raised my right hand and slapped it down on her ass. The blow landed in between her cheeks and didn’t seem to impact either with any force, so I switched my aim to her left cheek and let loose another spank.

She made a sharp intake of breath and her hips pushed down, separating my knees slightly, forcing me to sit with my legs more apart. Satisfied with the result I tried it on her right buttock to much the same result. I began to smack her butt quickly, alternating cheeks, trying to make the most of what I feared would be a short opportunity, half of me believing that at any moment she’d call me a monster and run off crying. After two full minutes of slaps, spanks and swats her feet were kicking gently at the floor, her torso wriggling in my lap in a way that made me quite excited. Each blow was accompanied by a little squelch as my dry hand made contact with the wet fabric of her bathing suit.

“Oh Mr. Lifeguard your hand is so hard,” she said mockingly.

I laughed and thought about telling her the hard thing poking her in the stomach wasn’t my hand, but I figure she knew that already. It was a good a cue as any to spank her harder though. I stopped spanking and used both hands to squeeze the ass of the swimsuit together, hiking it up in the process, revealing both her buttocks in all their glory, if at the cost for her of a slight wedgie. Her left cheek was a light pink to the angrier red of her right cheek, a situation I decided to rectify by aiming 30 seconds worth of smacks at her left buttock alone. With one hand holding her swimsuit in place, I spanked with the other hand putting hours at the gym each week into my task.

“OW! My butt isn’t a pair of bongo’s you know!” she protested, twisting back to look at me, a mixture of admiration and indignation in her eyes.

I switched back to smacking both cheeks. Spanking hard and with little in the way of rhyme or reason I spanked each cheek randomly, going between them at will.

To my great delight she let out a series of yelps. “Ow, Ouch, that stings!” she said, with enough emphasis to make me believe her.

“Well duh! You are being kartal escort bayan punished after all,” I replied with far more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. I stopped and squeezed each cheek with my hand before going back to spanking them with gusto, watching intensely, savoring their slowly changing color.

We must have gone on like that for 3 more minutes, her breathing increasingly erratic, and my soul jumping for joy. Unfortunately I heard the familiar clank of a nearby shed being opened as the gardeners arrived to fetch their lawnmowers. Discretion being important I had no choice but to stop lest we be discovered. For a full minute we sat there while she recovered her composure, my hand caressing her ass instead of spanking it. Thank heavens for the fence around the pool for providing us with some privacy!

Obviously she wasn’t as worried about being discovered as I was, because she rolled off my knees and on to her own, licking her lips hungrily as she looked up at me.

As she pulled down my swim shorts with a look of what can only be described as feigned surprise my throat went dry, to dry for me to utter anything.

“Mr. Lifeguard, it seems there was something else hard around here besides your hand,” she winked, taking my erection into her mouth without hesitation.

Whereas the only other girl I’d been with was slow, tentative, with my cock unsure if it would even fit in their mouths, this woman devoured it with gusto. In one smooth motion she wrapped he lips around the head and took the length of my shaft into her mouth and down her throat. Looking up at me with her big blue eyes she began to bob her head up and down as I groaned. Outside the fence the hum of the lawnmowers started, which drowned out the sucking and slurping.

I was shocked, this whole morning had been shocking, and as such I wasn’t mentally prepared for her expert ministrations. That was the excuse I told myself later anyway, not lasting as long as I might have hoped. Really though, she did seem an expert, sucking me until I had no option but to spurt into her waiting mouth. If the jolts of warm sticky cum into her mouth bothered her she made no signs of discomfort, continuing to milk my dick dry with her mouth until I had nothing left.

With a swallow and then a smile, she stood, resting her hand on my shoulder to support her wobbling legs. I stayed silent, unable to find the words to express just how happy I was.

“I’ll see you the same time tomorrow Mr. Lifeguard,” she purred in my ear before kissing me on the cheek.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” was all my pleasure addled brain could think of to say. I could do nothing but watch as she scampered away, out the pool area and off towards the women’s changing rooms.

The only coherent thought going through my mind was that this was the BEST SUMMER JOB EVER!

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