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I tucked the present birthday inside the dresser drawer turned out the bedroom lights except for a single bedside lamp then looked at my watch. Pauline would be home any minute now so I better take my place in our walk in robe.I’d been planning this night for several months and I was getting a bit nervous as I looked at my watch again. I heard the car pull up into the garage. This was it. There was no turning back now.My hands were shaking as I heard them come in and walk down the hallway to the lounge room.There was laughter and muffled talk as I sat in the walk in robe and waited. The house went silent for a while and I started to worry because it had been almost an hour since they had arrived.I was just about ready to get up and see what was going on when there she was.My wife was being carried into the bedroom by my best friend Chris. She was giggling as he sat her down on the bed and my heart was already racing as I watched what was unfolding.Pauline was half naked and wearing only her white bra and knickers as she lay back flat on her back.Chris was holding up her leg and unfastening the buckle on her heels as she giggled and squirmed around on the bed.After removing her shoes, he took off his shirt and slipped out of his jeans and slid down onto the bed beside her, taking my wife into his arms. They embraced in a passionate kiss then he rolled over on top of her as slid her hand inside his underpants and grabbed his cock. They were still kissing as she pushed them down and away from her prize and then there it was! Chris’ cock. He was a bit bigger than I was and had trimmed his red pubic hair and completely shaved his balls. He was fully engorged, hard and ready for her.She began wanking him as they kissed and I could see the hunger in both of them as their tongues entwined and explored each other’s mouths.Chris broke away from her lips and slid down the bed towards her feet. He tugged at her knickers and my wife giggled as she raised her hips allowing him to pull them free. She then spread her legs and Chris’ head disappeared between them as he began licking and teasing her smoothly shaved pussy.anal sex storiesI was as hard as a rock and rubbed my cock through my pants while I watched my best friend eat her out.Pauline playfully pushed Chris onto his back and then climbed on top of him into a 69 position where I watched as my wife took his cock into her mouth and sucked and played with his balls for several minutes. Soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips as Chris reciprocated the gesture at the other end.He finally moved, and my wife turned and faced him straddling his legs. She arched up and reached behind her grabbing his cock and rubbing it along her wet slit a few times before positioning it at her soaking hole.She then slowly sunk down and engulfed his entire cock until he was completely inside her. She was grinning at him from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. I watched as she pressed her hands onto my best friends’ chest so she could control her movements as she stared grinding her hips back and forwards.Chris was now arching his legs up to keep Pauline impaled on his cock and the quiet sounds of her moans started filling the room along with the wet sucking sounds coming from her wet and very married pussy.They stayed like this for a while, in unison, just slowly moving together and enjoying the feel of each other.Every now and then my wife would lean down and they would kiss before sitting upright again to enjoy his full harness.Chris started to move and with removing his cock from her he guided Pauline over onto her back.He was now on top of her and his tempo began to pick up. He started to ram into her which made loud slapping sounds as he thrust harder and harder. The bed shook as he repeatedly drove her hips back into our marital mattress. I could hear Pauline telling him to fuck her and each time she said it he pumped her harder and harder. She threw her hand down between her legs and started hastily rubbing her clit while Chris kept ploughing into her.My wife’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut and her chest was now heaving erratically so I knew she was close to orgasm. She then tossed her head back and moaning loudly, she started to come.I watched as she shuddered and squirmed beneath him from the intensity of her orgasm as she drove her hips up hard against Chris. This sent my best friend over the edge and he grunted like a bear and drove my wife back into the mattress as his cock exploded inside her.Pauline locked her legs around him, pulling him in closer while Chris had buried his head between her head and shoulders. He grunted and twitched while his balls continued to empty into my wife. He slowly began to finish and with his now deflating cock still inside her, he lifted his head and they kissed. I had almost came in my pants watching this…watching my wife finish off my best friend….it was fucking amazing.They lay there for a while and I could hear them kissing and whispering and after about 10 minutes Chris got up and got dressed. Pauline put on her bathrobe and they walked to the front door. There was more whispering and kissing then I heard the door close.I came out of my hidey hole as my wife returned to the bedroom and she opened the front of her robe as she greeted me with a massive kiss. The smell of sex on her was overpowering.“Did you like your birthday present Babe?” I asked.She kissed me hard and passionately so I took that as a yes.“You know he’s going to want to come back for more don’t you?” she said to me.We stared at each other then she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs. I dived between them and she played with my hair as I pushed my face into her freshly fucked pussy. The unmistakable smell of semen greeted me and with both hands she held my head and moaned while I licked her clean.Pauline then helped me strip off and waited for me to mount her which I did straight away. My aching balls were ready to burst and as I started to fuck her, it didn’t take me very long at all before I shot my load into her.Minutes later we lay there side by side just basking in the afterglow of what had just happened.“Thanks babe” my wife said to me… “You know… He doesn’t just have to be a birthday present you know” she added cheekily.“No he doesn’t” I said. We cuddled there on the bed and drifted off into a deep sleep.

We’d been on the road for seven hours, and though we’d hoped to make it all the way home from…

My nineteen year old cousin DJ had been coming to spend two weeks with me during the summer ever since…

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END

My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without much to do besides watching TV or…

One evening I chatted with a man online who expressed interest in a real meeting. He sent me a pic…

My wife is a gorgeous woman. At 40 only two things mar her petite little body. Stretch marks on her…

My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without much to do besides watching TV or catching the basketball games on the radio. So when rush hour hit, I headed to a nearby bar and sat at the rail to check out the traffic, ordering a gin and tonic to pass the time. It was an upscale crowd – yuppies, business men like myself, you know the type. As I swiveled my barstool around, getting a quick 360 of the clientele, I realized there was a woman sitting next to me. A good- looking brunette in a well-tailored business suit. And unless I was very much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye. I turned around, and she was there all right, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite fathom. “Rough day?,” she asked, and I relaxed and moved into the “office work” routine with half my mind while the other half tried to figure what she was looking for. She was friendly enough, and I tuned back into our discussion just in time to hear myself recommend a little Chinese place for dinner. We ate at Yank Soo’s in one of the booths overlooking the river. Separate checks, of course., She told me about life in the field of accounting and how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a male- dominated area. We talked about college and career, and found a mutual interest in old jazz. Turns out she had some early Blue Note disks I had been looking for years, so I asked about taping them for my collection and she invited me to come over and give them a listen first. Her “little place” was a Victorian brownstone in one of the more expensive neighborhoods. I pulled into the second bay of the two-car garage since it looked like rain. She showed me into the music room as she went to fix something to drink. I was impressed – her jazz collection was something incredible, from rare Bird to just about every Monk album ever released. I found the records we had discussed and put one on the turntable, then sat on the couch and listened. Cool, sweet, jazz – I closed my eyes and drank in the sound. At some point in the first track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped as I listened. The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to see her beside me on the couch. Somehow, taking her in my arms was the easiest thing to do, and when the second track began we just naturally rose to start dancing. Her hands drifted down to the base of my spine, and I became aware of the points of her breasts through the silk blouse she wore. We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving her hips back into mine. I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh as she leaned into me. She turned around, and as our dance went on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket. Next to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next solo with her hands inside the back of my pants.sex photos“Come upstairs,” she breathed, running one hand between my legs, and I didn’t have the will to resist her. She unfastened my pants there in the music room, leaving me in shorts alone, took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming over her back and down farther. She led me up the stairs, one hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom. There was a large bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs, and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a fur seat by a curtained wall. She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples into proud erection. “Kiss me,” she said, offering a ripe tit, and I cooperated, drawing it into my mouth with lips and tongue. “Harder,” she moaned, and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it become stiff and swollen. She pulled away, then offered the other breast for the same treatment. Then she pulled away this time, her face – indeed her whole upper body – was flushed. She beckoned with one finger, and I came to her to slip her skirt off, revealing a black pair of crotchless panties. I slipped a finger between her thighs, finding that she was already warm and wet. She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing the bench and wall as she dragged my shorts down, my penis spring free to smack audibly against my belly. I felt her hands move down my legs, and then a clicking sound. I looked down to realize that she had just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my ankles and snapped them to the bottom legs of the bench. She pushed me forward, and as I fell she grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them similarly to the other end. I began to appreciate the design of the bench in a different light now. The seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just above my waist, then the bench legs went out at an angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly button to mid-thigh. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could still smell her private aroma, and that maintained my flagging erection. She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already gathered there. As she slid forward, I stretched my tongue out to meet her, finding her hot and wet inside. She gripped my head as I kissed and licked, and ran trails with her nails around my ears, the back of my neck, my armpits, each nail leaving a trace I could feel as clearly as reading a map. I felt something toying with the head of my penis — she had stretched her legs and gripped me with her toes. Now she pulled slightly away from my face, and I had to stretch my head and tongue to reach her, as she braced her hands on my shoulders and began working me with her feet. I could not hold off, but as I began to shoot I felt her begin her own spasms around my tongue. She bent her knee, bringing one foot onto the stool, her toes between my face and her pussy. “Suck,” she commanded, and despite some misgivings I did, mingling the acrid taste of my own fluid with the heavy smell of her juices. She buried my face inside her pussy again, and I licked and nibbled until she was satisfied. She arose, moving to my nether end, and I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a vibrator moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my cheeks. She parted my cheeks and I felt her finger work its way into the opening there, moving in and out until I relaxed. Then her finger was replaced by something thicker that went in until my muscles clamped around a narrow portion. She ran the vibrator over the end of the plug, and the sensation was so intense, that to my surprise I found myself becoming erect again. She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped me to stand erect, taking me in a full body kiss, tongues fighting for space, then sliding slowly down my body to taste and tease my nipples as I cupped and squeezed her full breasts. Each move I made caused the plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk against her. “Poor baby, we’ve been neglecting you,” she said, and sank to her knees to engulf me in the moist cavern of her mouth. I closed my eyes and stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked their magic on me, all the while her fingers were pinching, caressing and stroking my thighs, cheeks, genitals. My breath was coming ragged as she held me on the edge of erupting.pornShe pulled away, holding me in her hand as she led me to a curtained wall, then drew the curtain aside to reveal a large metal frame with D-rings at the corners. She backed me up and attached my feet to the corners, spreading my legs to do so, then kissed and licked her way up my body, finally lifting my arms and hooking their cuffs to the top corners of the frame. By now she was riding on top of me, rubbing her labia around my aching member, her breasts hot against my chest. She moved her head down to kiss and worry my nipple, then made me gasp as she clipped something to it. She repeated the treatment on my other nipple, then slid down and wrapped her breasts around my erection, bring it up harder (if possible). Now she attached some sort of clamp to the skin just below the head, with a weight attached to the clamp. The weight magnified every movement I make. As she stepped away from the frame, my attention wavered between the growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of the anal plug, and the self-jerking action of my cock. Her face was radiant as she watched me quiver. She asked me, “What would you like first?,” but I could not give her an answer. Remove the clips? Take me into her mouth? Unhook my arms? She chuckled at my indecision, then went to the side of the frame, unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now perpendicular to the wall. “You’ll like this, I think” she said, scraping her nails up my ass cheeks, wiggling the plug to draw a low moan from me. She took the weight and fastened it to the anal plug, so every motion I made was now reflected. I heard her step away, then I could not hear her at all. My nipples felt on fire, and all the squirming I could manage in that frame would not budge them. But all that movement did shake the weight and move the plug, making my aching erection harder. Where did she go? I began to worry how long she was going to leave me and finally yelled “Hello? Where are you?” I got my answer as my ass exploded in pain. Whack! Whack! She had re-entered the room quietly and now was strapping my ass. I cried out from the shock, her only response more laughter. Every jolt of the strap seemed to run from the base of my ass cheeks to the head of my erection. When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked her in relief, asking what she wanted from me. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?,” she answered, “Oh, silly me, you have all these tight muscles that need to be loosened.” She began stroking my ass, her palms cool relief against my abused flesh. She started moving the anal plug in and out, fucking my ass with it while the attached weight pulled my cock up and down in return. The sensations finally overwhelmed me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I came, long and hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers continuing to move until I was slumped boneless in the frame. I barely whimpered at the pain when she removed the clips, then released me from the frame. Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed – she had done so already and had coffee brewing down in the kitchen. We shared a cup together in silence. As I got up to leave, she said “We really must get together again.” The thought was tempting, but thinking of my wife, I declined. “No, I really think we must” she said more firmly, and handed me a photograph. I hadn’t noticed a camera at the time, but the photograph was clearly recognizable as me, naked in the frame, nipples clipped, face locked in a rictus of pleasure, strands of semen flying in the air. “I have your number,” she said as I left. I think she does.

We had been lovers only a week when she revealed her true intent. “I want you to belong to me, as my submissive.” I looked at her sadly and shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m not submissive.” Her green eyes peered intently into mine. “I can teach you. I care about you Cat, and I think you need this.” I looked away nervously. “I’ve seen your other submissives,” I said. “‘Yes Mistress, whatever you say Mistress.’ I’m not like that, nor do I want to be. I don’t want to play silly games.” “That’s your inexperience speaking,” she said softly. “It takes a lot of strength to be a submissive — to adopt someone else’s will as your own, and it’s only a game if you make it one.” In some ways, what she offered was so appealing. From the moment I saw her and perceived her sadistic tendencies, I wanted her to use me. I wanted her to pinch me, slap me, bite me…to whip me until I broke; something about her made me think she could. I ached to feel the ecstasy of pain, of feeling alive. Her pleasure in it would only arouse me more. But I did not feel capable of being a submissive, subverting my own desires for hers. In the silence, I watched her. She was always in control, and the only time I saw her lose it was when she came, her head thrown back and her body arched against my tongue, low moans escaping from between her clenched teeth. The memory of those moments made me blush, and I looked away. But always perceptive, she knew what I was thinking. She leaned forward, and I glimpsed the firm round breasts beneath her sweater, their pink nipples firm and pointy; my pulse quickened. “Give it a week. If you don’t like it, we can stop.” I knew that she needed this, to dominate, and that if I did not agree, she would have to find someone else. “I’ll try,” I said. “But only if you belong to me as much as I belong to you.” She laughed. “I see I have a lot of work ahead of me. I can’t belong to you, but I won’t see anyone else while you are being trained.” It was not exactly what I wanted, but I suppose that was the first step in becoming a submissive – learning to accept what I was given. Danika — I mean Mistress Danika — told me to arrive at her place promptly at 10 a.m. I drove as fast as possible through the traffic but did not arrive until 10:08. I knocked on the door apprehensively. She opened the door. “You’re late.” she said coolly. I started to apologize as she pulled me inside. “Turn around,” she ordered. And pushed me against the door. “Are you dressed as I instructed?” I nodded. “Spread your legs.” I spread them apart as she checked to make sure I was not wearing panties and that I had on stockings and garters rather than the nylons which she abhorred. The air felt cool on my skin as she lifted my skirt. The coolness was followed by the hot sting of her riding crop slapping against my exposed cheeks. “One for each minute you made me wait. Count them.” I counted each one as it landed on my bare ass. The feeling was painful but so enlivening. My pinkened skin tingled, and I moaned. “You’re such a slutty Cat,” she muttered in my ear. “Face me.” I turned around and gasped. She was dressed head to toe in shiny leather. Her breasts spilled over a black bustier, and I longed to lick them as I had in the past. Her legs were encased in long leather boots with spiked heels, and I could see her thighs just peeking out at the top, beneath the hem of her tight skirt. I imagined those legs wrapped around my waist as I ground my clit against hers; another command brought me out of my fantasy. “Kneel down and lick my boots.” The thought of licking anyone’s shoes was repugnant to me, but remembering our agreement, I obeyed. I licked until I was sure I had coated the entire boot before she allowed me to stop. “Now lick my pussy with that sweet tongue.” She grasped my head and pushed it between her legs. I began to devour her eagerly, my tongue thrusting inside to lap at her cream. She grasped my hair and pulled my head back, gazing into my eyes. “Who do you belong to?” she asked. “I belong to you,” I whispered. Her grip on my brown tresses tightened; “Always refer to me as Mistress Danika. Let’s try again. Who do you belong to?” “I belong to Mistress Danika.” She smiled for the first time since I arrived, and I wanted to feel those soft lips pressing against mine. As if reading my mind, she leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips parted mine, and her tongue caressed them, sliding into my mouth where it slid against my tongue. I sucked her tongue gently, like a small cock, and she began thrusting it in and out. “You’re such a good Cat,” she murmured. She slipped a cold chain collar about my neck and fastened it with a small key, which she set on the table.cum inside sex story “Take off your clothes.” Although we had been lovers, I felt awkward undressing as she watched me, her eyes following every movement but revealing nothing. “Come and kneel on the bed.” I perched on all fours in the middle of the bed, and heard her take opening a drawer. “I love to spank slutty girls,” she said. I felt the whack of a wooden hairbrush against my ass and gasped. This was followed by several more until I felt tender and bruised. Still I had not cried out. “Your ass is so nice and pink now… and this will be so pretty buried inside.” She held up a thick black dildo for me to inspect. “Suck this good, because you’re the one who’s going to feel it if you don’t.” “Yes Mistress Danika.” I opened my mouth, and she watched as I gave the plastic cock a blow job; she pushed it deep into my throat until I gagged. “Just like a real man,” she chuckled. When she felt I had lubricated it sufficiently, she stood behind me. I winced as she pushed it into my tight hole; it slid in stiffly, and I could feel my skin stretching as she shoved it deeper. I started to move away, but her fingernails dug into the bruised flesh of my ass, and I stopped. “Fuck it.” she said. I started to rock back and forth, thrusting against the shaft as she held it. The pain dissipated and I cried out in intense pleasure as it rubbed against my anus. “Don’t come,” Mistress Danika warned. As I rocked, my nipples stroked against the sheets; my thighs were sticky from the juice dripping from my pussy. “You like this don’t you Cat?” “Mmm, yes.” I smiled. Suddenly she stopped, but did not remove the dildo. “Stand up.” I stood up stiffly, each movement reminding me of the plastic cock filling my ass. She pulled one hand above my head and fastened it to a chain suspended from a ring in the ceiling. She did the same with the other, and I was forced to stand on tiptoe or suffer the discomfort of having my arms stretched beyond their usual limit. In front of me now, she put silver clamps on each of my long, hard nipples, fastening them tightly. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away. There was a cock ring suspended from a chain dangling between the two nipple clamps. She looped this over a second dildo and slid it into my very wet, shaved cunt. “Don’t drop this, and I’ll make you crawl around the room with it in your teeth, like a bad puppy.” My nipples were slightly swollen and engorged both from my own arousal and the tightness of the clamps. The pain was bittersweet; when Mistress Danika bowed her head and bit one of my ruby-colored tips, I nearly screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Her eyes looked cruel but sexy, and I could tell my torment was inflaming her. “I can’t decide whether to gag you or listen to you scream.” she mused. “I will not scream,” I asserted. “Oh but you will,” she replied and raised her arm for the first lash. It landed across my back; the leather felt like a million tiny mouths biting into my flesh. I moaned. “You’re enjoying this too much, slut!” and she lashed again, harder. The whip contacted my skin with a loud crack, and soon they formed a steady rhythm, interspersed with my soft moans. I started to sweat, as my body felt suffused in heat. “You’re tougher than I thought.” She stopped whipping, and I sighed in relief. My back was throbbing, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to bear. I was shocked when the lash of a stronger whip landed across my shoulders and I jerked away, causing the clamps to pull fiercely on my sore nipples. “Ah!” I exclaimed. “What did you say Cat?” she was nearly laughing now, and as another blow struck my thighs, I repeated my small outburst. She went on, relentlessly. “Cry, damn it! Let it out!”sex taboo sextingI bit my lip and tasted warm blood in my mouth. “You bitch!” I screamed at her furiously. “Let me go!” The pain was almost more than I could bear, and I knew if she did not release me, I would break down crying. She stood in front of me, and raising her arms let the whip fall across my heaving breasts. I cried then, long harsh sobs, releasing all my pain and rage. I don’t remember her unfastening my bonds or removing the nipple clamps. But I remember her holding me close, her cool hands soothing my crisscrossed back. Her lips pressing tenderly against my face. “My sweet Cat,” she whispered comfortingly, as I cried. Her lips found mine, and I kissed her eagerly. She caressed me gently, and I whimpered as her fingers pressed in little circles against my mound. She stroked it firmly, and my whole body quivered. I needed to come. “Mistress Danika,” I pleaded. “May I come?” As my eyes met her, she smiled. “Yes Cat. Come for me.” “Oh god!” I exclaimed as the most intense orgasm I ever experienced washed over me. I felt weak and drowsy. “You aren’t finished yet,” she said, and straddled my face. Her wetness inflamed me; it thrilled me to know I could arouse her so. I licked her eagerly, stroking her button with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth and nibbling gently. I slid a finger into her soaking cunt and drew the moistness to her ass. I slid it inside her, and she thrust furiously against my tongue. With my other hand, I tugged at her nipple, pulling and twisting it; with a groan, she flooded my face with her cream, and Cat that I am, I drank eagerly. I strive to deserve the love of my Mistress; she has taught me a lot about submission, as well as friendship and happiness. I will never forsake her, and while she does not belong to me, I am grateful for the gift of her love and her domination. It is only beneath the crack of her whip that I become truly free.