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***

Sarkopheros Says:

Not much to say about this one. I did not expect it to become so enormous as it is. This one has taken the record of the longest Brod story at 9,510 words. And almost all of them are a messy fuckfest. I’m pretty happy with myself for it. It also marks the first occasion of an FFM threesome I’ve written for Brod.

Anyway, if you read the last story, you know what to expect. Lots of ludicrous, messy sex, and a whole lot of cum inflation. There are also themes of interracial sex and age difference.

Strictly speaking, you don’t have to read Nice Young Man, Part 1 before this, but it helps. Enjoy!

***

Click-clack. I heard the front door opening.

I sighed and relaxed, lying back against the couch. Estelle was still slumped against her belly, groaning as she kneaded at it. It was so swollen that I could easily see it bulging out to the sides. The remains of her dress laid in tatters under her stomach.

I heard footsteps approach. Then Jessica called out, “Brod? Ms. Borgelin?”

“In here,” I hollered.

She jiggled around the corner, her enormous hips wobbling, heavy tits bouncing. Her top exposed her soft, caramel-colored tummy. “Brod, I didn’t understand — oh my god!” she gasped, putting her hands on her cheeks. “What did you do?!”

“The same thing I did to you,” I chuckled. I rubbed my hand over Estelle’s back, enjoying the sensation of the heat and silkiness engulfing my still-pulsing organ. I could feel my own thick sperm flowing and shifting around my glans every time the teacher breathed. Slick sexual slush oozed out around my cock and over my balls into the puddle under us. Pumping liter after liter of cum into a womb is an indescribable feeling, but feeling your own raging sperm swirling and flowing around your cock feels incredible, as well. I ran my hands over the dark expanse of Estelle’s belly.

“I. Mmm. I asked him to invite you,” said the teacher as she gazed blearily at her student. “For extra credit, you see….”

“Extra credit,” repeated Jessica.

“I treated her the way I treated you,” I explained. “And now she wants to watch what it looks like when it happens to someone else,” I chuckled.

“Oh, uh….” Jessica bit her lower lip. “Wow.” She giggled nervously.

“Ms. Diaz, there’s no need to be shy,” said Estelle.

“You have to admit that this is pretty weird,” said Jessica. “You’re so big!”

“And. Mmh. I’m going to watch you get every bit as big, young lady. You’re looking overdressed,” she chuckled.

“Y-you want me to take my clothes off?” she asked incredulously.

“No, I want both of you to take your clothes off,” Estelle purred, looking back over her shoulder at me. It seems that while we waited for Jessica, she’d recovered enough energy to start giving orders.

“Hell, I’ll go first, if it makes you feel better,” I chuckled to Jessica. I was still wearing most of my clothes.

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on those wide, wide hips. Estelle looked over at our reflection in the window and said, “Well, get to it, Brod.”

I unbuttoned my vest and shrugged my broad shoulders as I pulled it off. My fingers moved down my chest as I undid my buttons, exposing the undershirt beneath. I pulled my shirt away, then the undershirt, the white cloth slipping free of my pants. My soft stomach was now exposed, up against Estelle’s back, my honeyed complexion stark against her darkness.

I saw Jessica licking her lips and taking a deep breath as she watched. I don’t think it was so much the actual sight of my body as her association with the pleasure that it brought. Then again, the air in the room was thick … if the sight wasn’t enough, the evidence of the thorough fucking I’d given her teacher hung in the air like a fog. I saw the front of Jessica’s shorts darkening.

Estelle herself moaned in front of me as I stripped. “I can feel your heartbeat inside me,” she purred. “You know, Jessica, it wasn’t just you,” she chuckled.

“Wasn’t just me, what?” she asked, sitting next to me on the couch. Her caramel-colored hand settled on my cock. She bit her lower lip as she felt the thick, slick coating. Jess began to rub over what length wasn’t buried in her teacher.

“You know him. He’s slept with how many girls at UTB?” asked the teacher.

“I have no idea,” answered Jessica. “He doesn’t keep count.”

“Other students have told me all about him. Hngh. Isn’t there something deliciously … just mmmh instinctively right. Having yourself stretched around the … biological siege engine … responsible for wrecking how many thousands before us? Mm. Submitting to a stud who’s proven himself time and time again,” groaned the teacher. Fuck, was her voice sexy … like warm molasses being drizzled on the tongue. Dark, sultry, sweet.

But I had to something to say to that voice. “Ladies, I’m right here,” I chuckled. “And I’m not sure if I can get my pants off right now,” I grumbled.

Jessica Anadolu Yakası Escort smiled and said, “Well, maybe we can get those shoes off.” She stood up and began to undo my shoelaces. With Estelle sitting on my cock, it would have been tremendously awkward to get them myself. I relaxed again, rubbing my hands over the teacher’s nice hips, watching as Jessica smiled up at both of us, perhaps a bit bashfully. She pulled the socks from my feet. I knew she wasn’t usually quite this shy, but I think that her teacher’s presence was throwing her off. Jessica was no stranger to what I did.

“I’m as naked as I can get right now,” I said, rubbing my hands up Estelle’s belly once more. I loved the feeling of my jizz sloshing inside her, the sight and sensation of my hands and fingers sinking into that flesh. “So why don’t you take it off, Jess?”

Jessica looked at Estelle. Estelle said, “You heard him.”

She nodded and smiled. “Sorry, it’s just weird, because, you know, you’re my teacher,” she explained.

“And we’re all going to learn something today,” quipped Estelle. “And look at it this way. This is weird for you? You’ve seen Brod’s aftermath before. I haven’t fucked anyone in about a year. How do you think I feel? About you coming in here, seeing your dear old professor turned into a blimp?”

“Huh. Guess that is true,” Jessica chuckled and turned away from us, bending down, perking up the enormous ass she knew I loved so much. “This is still weird, though.”

“I agree,” said Estelle.

Each of Jessica’s cheeks was easily bigger than her head, and so very round. They gently quivered as she pulled her little shorts down, exposing a g-string that concealed nothing. I was already rock-hard with my cock buried inside a hot pussy, but fuck if that sight didn’t make me just a little hornier. My monolithic member pulsed harder, my precum pumping into Estelle faster, keeping her belly nice and swollen.

The student licked her lips, slipping out of her sneakers before straightening up, kicking her shorts aside. The motion sent ripples through her thick thighs and juicy rump.

Jessica wiggled back and forth, slipping her thumbs under her g-string as she stretched it down around her wide hips. It fell to the ground. She turned around, licking her lips as she stood in front of us, slipping her top up, her heavy tits bouncing free.

Her incredible body was bared, every luscious, caramel-complected curve. She licked her lips. “Now what should I do?”

“I think we should put on a little show for your teacher, call it a group assignment,” I suggested.

“That is a fine idea,” agreed Estelle.

“Unfortunately, that means I have to pull my cock out of you,” I lamented.

“A sacrifice I’ll have to make.”

I slipped my meaty hands up under her knees and shifted until I could stand. As her weight moved atop my cock, it shifted inside her, pushing up into her womb hard. Slorsch-slorsch. I could hear all those gallons of jizz I’d shot into her sloshing in her belly, a hot shifting slurry of sperm that swirled around my shaft.

“Fuck!” cried Estelle. I felt her pussy twitch and squeeze my cock. She slipped slightly lower as I turned around, organ throbbing with vigor inside her.

“Get ready, I’m gonna put you down,” I said as I turned so she was facing the couch. As I turned, I felt hot jets of goo hitting my legs. The shift and increase in pressure caused my seed to spray out around my ludicrous girth. It rolled down my slacks, soaking them. And then, of course, as I moved, my slacks fell down around my ankles. I stumbled and fell forward, dropping Estelle on her belly.

“Augh!” She threw her arms forward to catch herself. I lurched forward. My cock buried another couple of inches in her. Her belly stretched out. Pints of jizz shot out onto my belly and legs. Splisch! Estelle shuddered as her pussy gripped me tightly and her orgasm began spraying out around me.

Jessica bit her lower lip. I felt her hands on my shoulders as I gripped her teacher’s hips, riding out the orgasm with her. She reached around me and wrapped her hands around the substantial portion of cock not inside of Estelle. I felt her lips at my neck as she stroked me. Mixed juices poured out around my organ. The hot silk gripped and loosened and pulsed as Estelle came. It took almost a minute for her to stop.

“O-ooh…,” she cooed.

I put my hands on her ass and began to pull out of her. She absently pawed at the leather of the chaise, gripping handfuls as I pulled backwards. Schlllrrrp. My cock kept slipping out, out … so much of it was buried in her. Thick layers of white were painted on its surface, stopping abruptly two thirds down my shaft, showing exactly how much of my gigantic organ she’d taken.

I looked over my shoulder at Jessica and grinned. “Do you see a big bottle somewhere?”

“I don’t know.” Her hands released me and she turned to look in the Pendik Escort nearby kitchen. I heard clinking. She held up a wine bottle.

I shook my head. “Bigger,” I said.

She tapped her chin before holding up a two-liter bottle of pineapple soda.

I nodded. “Bring it here.”

Jessica came over and handed me the plastic bottle. If Estelle was aware of what we were doing, she gave no indication. I pulled the rest of the way out. Pop! My softball-sized glans popped free, dripping with torrid seed. GLURSCH! Jizz gushed from her gaping, ruined pussy like a water main. At least until I shoved the base of the soda bottle into her. I grabbed a handful of ass for leverage as I worked it inside. It fit easily. Schliiiip. Soon, only the white cap poked from her entrance. My jizz was secure inside.

Estelle moaned as I rolled her over and pulled her backward so she was sitting up against the back of the chase, her legs splayed out in the pool of spunk leaking over the sides. I grabbed the remains of her dress and literally tore them off her body. Schriip! Every inch of her gorgeous, dark-mahogany skin was now exposed. Her belly shined with sweat, a great dome like an exercise ball, spilling over most of her thighs, concealing the white cap of the bottle between her legs. It must have been poking into the pool of jizz.

I licked my lips and looked at Jessica. My organ pumped with hunger. She bit her lip and looked down at it.

I kicked my pants aside and said, “Clean it up. It would be rude to give you sloppy seconds,” I chuckled. I grabbed my boxers about the waist band and pulled. Schrriiip! I tore the underwear in half above the slit through which my cock was jutting, preventing normal removal. They fell to the floor, and now I was completely naked. I always kept spare underwear in the car. I was constantly losing pairs at random girls’ houses—I didn’t care about an individual pair.

“Yeah, because this is the first time you gave me ‘sloppy seconds’ ,” she said with a roll of her dark eyes. Jessica knelt and brushed some of her jet-black mane out of her face. She ran her tongue over her full, maroon lips and grinned up at me.

“Ooh, yes, clean him up,” grumbled Estelle. She groaned and ran her hands over her enormously swollen belly.

Jessica glanced over and winked at the teacher before wrapping both hands around my titanic cock, fatter than her arms and longer than my thigh. She lifted the head. “So heavy,” she groaned. Her hot little tongue slipped free as she began to run it up my erection’s belly. I sighed in pleasure as I felt her scooping the thickly layered spunk into her throat. I could feel the shift of her lips, hear the gluck-gluck as she gulped down mouthful after mouthful of spent, still-steaming jizz. I looked down. I saw the glistening rivulets of clear nectar rolling down her thick thighs from her entrance.

Her hair brushed my cock as she moved back down to the base, slipping the tongue under the first wrinkle in my sack and drawing it up once more, slurping sloppily, whiteness rubbing off, sticky spunk painting her cheeks. She moaned as she swallowed more of my seed. I remained standing to give Estelle a good view of the spectacle. Thick, yogurt-like globs of goop splatted all over Jessica’s luscious skin. She was lighter than Estelle, but a fair bit darker than me. The white rolled as she slurped it up, moaning. “There’s so much,” she panted. Jessica’s hands were entirely insufficient for the gargantuan organ she was working. She had to stretch her arms out almost all the way just to stroke me.

Estelle noticed, because she said, “Dear god, that thing is! Mmmmh. Absolutely gigantic! I can’t believe I took so much cock!”

“That’s how we all feel,” purred Jessica.

“And no other cock feels the same after mine,” I chuckled.

I ran my fingers through her thick, soft hair. Jessica moaned and looked up at me . Then she pulled the head of my cock down so that she could clean the top of it. Full maroon lips left shining, honey-tanned skin glistening in the light. The white layers of gunk disappeared. Once more, I could feel the cool air against my moist skin, as well as the heat of her breath. Dainty fingers rubbed over the skin as she complained, “Your cock smells funny.”

“You love it.”

“I know this smell way too well,” she admitted.

I looked at Ms. Borgelin. She grinned at me, straightening her glasses, and licked her lips. For how long had her hand been between her thighs, teasing her clit? I wasn’t sure. But it was a wonderful sight. Her other hand was on the neck of the soda bottle, and she was actually pumping it in and out … as well as she could, anyway. Her belly completely engulfed her forearm and hid it from view, her hand re-emerging from underneath to pump the two-liter in and out by a couple inches.

Jessica hefted my melon-sized balls. She needed a hand for each—though really, two hands for each nut would have been preferable. Kurtköy Escort Four or six would have been nice, too. My nuts were so enormous that her fingers actually sunk into their surfaces, the titanic spheres molding slightly to her grip.

“They’re as large as your head!” gasped the teacher.

Jessica moaned as she ran her tongue slowly through a fold in my sack. “If he fucked you missionary, you’d feel like you were being spanked,” she told her instructor. The puddle of her nectar spread out under her, creeping towards my feet.

“I don’t doubt it,” groaned Estelle, her fingers accelerating. “It’s just so different. Watching versus feeling. Seeing that ungodly thing I took! It’s enough to. It’s just so. Knowing. The seeing. Ugh!” She shuddered and gasped, hot juices squirting out around the soda bottle.

“Schlooorp,” was Jessica’s reply. She sucked spunk out of the folds in my sack, moaning and grunting as she lifted my sack up, licking up the back side. Jessica bit gently, pulling at mouthfuls of the thick skin. I felt her hard teeth digging into the flesh—enough to grip, not enough to hurt. My cock was now shining and clean, except for the constant stream of precum I was pouring. It sluiced from the tip of my cock, adding to the puddle under Jess.

“Missionary, there’s an idea,” I rumbled. I pointed at the chaise and told Jessica, “Lay down … as much as I wanna watch that fat ass wobble, Ms. Borgelin won’t be able to see much if I fuck you doggy on the floor.”

Jessica’s eyes darted to her teacher. “I guess you’re right. Where’s the fun without showing off?”

Ms. Borgelin chuckled deeply at this, making her bodacious belly jiggle. She bit her lower lip and watched.

Jessica turned around and sat down on the edge of the chaise before leaning back. She looked over her shoulder before lying down with a long purr. The hot jizz on the chaise stuck to her back and soaked into her hair. She inhaled the sexual scent deeply, licking her lips as she looked up at me, spreading her thick thighs apart. Jessica scooped up handfuls of spunk and slathered them all over her soft belly and fat tits. She rested her head against Estelle’s gigantic belly. It sunk into the chocolatey dome, making it quiver. Estelle licked her lips and rubbed her hands over Jessica’s shoulders.

Jess bit her lip as I stood between her legs. I hefted my giant cock with both hands and slapped it down on her stomach. Smack! Generous jugs jiggled and she moaned. The glans was gushing boiling-hot pre all over her chest and between her tits. It rolled over her neck. The base of my cock was at her slit.

She grabbed my member with both hands and began to stroke its length, slathering jizz and precum all over it. Estelle’s hands joined her, though all she could reach was the glans, which she dutifully polished using handfuls of my pouring pre.

I leaned my head back and groaned loudly at the ceiling. I was so hard, my cock practically bouncing up and down with need atop Jessica. “I can’t handle this,” I rumbled at her. She panted as she watched what I did.

I pulled my cock back and gripped it just behind the glans. The grapefruit-sized crown kissed her slit. I grabbed her meaty hips, my fingers sinking into her pliable flesh. She moaned and leaned forward to grab my shaft. I grunted and shoved forward. Gliiisch. The heated flesh spread around my cock and caressed the glans, silkiness slickly accepting me. She’d taken my cock several times now, so getting it into her wasn’t as much of a task as it once was.

But it was still very slow. Both of her fists didn’t add up to my cock’s head. The dark lips stretched and stretched as they struggled with my girth, their pink edges forming a thin circle around me. I felt my steaming syrup pouring into her. We all saw it as the bulge appeared in her lower belly. Ms. Borgelin gasped as she saw exactly how deep I was.

“B-Brod! Oh, god!” Jessica cried and closed her eyes tightly. She arched her back and spread her legs further. My powerful hands slipped down and gripped up under her ass, my fingertips digging in and seizing handfuls of flesh as leverage. I began to pump my hips to drive my organ deeper into her body, her head-sized tits bouncing and jiggling, slapping her body audibly, her soft belly quivering.

More and more of my monstrous manhood stretched her insides out, rudely pushing organs aside as it made a fleshy tent in her belly, her navel rising into the air atop my glans.

“Almost horrifying, but so sexy…,” muttered Estelle.

Jessica gave the eloquent response of, “Oh my fuck!” Her body began to bounce as I began to pump more rapidly into her, my glans already shoving up against the barrier to her womb, demanding entry to her sacred depths.

“I was barely cognizant when you showed me that nasty bulge in my own stomach,” continued the teacher. “It’s amazing!”

“Feels better than it looks….,” grunted Jessica.

I rumbled with a throaty growl as I pounded her cervix, my fleshy battering ram slowly stretching it and forcing it to dilate. Jessica moaned as my thrusts scooted her up the semen-slicked couch and deeper into Estelle’s bloated belly. Both of them jiggled madly. Glusch-glusch-glusch.

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

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

The name is Fatima Sadiq and I’m a young black Muslim woman living in the City of Barrhaven, Ontario. I live on Adrian Street, off of Pizzeria Lane. By day, I work at the local Wal-Mart as a cashier and attend the University of Ottawa. At night, I am something else altogether. Mistress Tima is my top-secret kink alias. As the daughter of Muslim immigrants from distant Somalia, I am expected to be conservative and religious and all that jazz, but people don’t always turn out the way their families expect them to.

Yes, I am a Muslim woman but I live my life my way. If you don’t like it, you can kiss my thick and beautiful Somali ass. I’m five-foot-eleven, curvy and sexy, with large breasts, wide hips and a big round ass. My skin is dark brown and I have long black hair which I usually tuck away under my Hijab. That’s right, I’m a Hijab-wearing Muslim woman who happens to be a sex freak. Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be so surprised. I go to the mosque on Fridays and attend Islamic community events. I am a proud Muslim female and I also like sex. Just deal with it.

I love the world of BDSM, and I am a budding dominatrix. When I started attending BDSM munches in the Ottawa area, I was fascinated, but quickly became massive disappointed. Folks, the Ottawa BDSM scene is full of middle-aged, uptight and fussy white folks. Not a lot of people of color. At one munch, aside from a forty-something Asian lady Şerifali Escort and her Latino-looking boyfriend, I was the only non-white person. The munch included about thirty people. Yeah, not my scene.

That’s why I decided to seek out other black folks who are into BDSM and form our own club. Yes, I am that black dominatrix who actually likes black men. Most of the other black female dominants I have met cater only to white males, and that’s a damn shame. Now, I’ve dated men of all hues. If you do it for me, you do it for me. Don’t be a dick. Be good to me. Still, I love black men and could never forsake them, especially with all the shit I see on the news.

Now, back on the subject of BDSM. Every dominatrix has something she excels at. My specialty is in taking macho black guys who are new to the world of kink and take them to the edge. The brothers need a firm hand sometimes, and this sister is the right woman for the job. Take my good friend Rupert Johnson for example. This brother is studying civil engineering at Carleton University and likes to hang out on the University of Ottawa campus. We met at a meeting for African students, and totally hit it off.

Rupert Johnson is one of those rare brothers I find actually interesting. You’ve got to admit that a lot of people from the Caribbean and Africa are conservative when it comes to sexuality. Well, not this brother. The big and İstanbul Escort tall young Jamaican dude is freaky and was afraid of his freaky side until he met me and realized that it’s okay to be black, male and freaky. Just call me the black male butt whisperer, big L.O.L moment there, folks.

“Bend over and give me that ass,” I ordered, and Rupert got on all fours and spread his cute dark brown ass cheeks for me. Grinning, I took some Aloe cream and applied it on Rupert’s asshole. Next, I rubbed some on that cream on my strap-on dildo and pressed it against Rupert’s asshole. Ready or not, your big bossy black momma is coming inside, brother.

“Yes ma’am,” Rupert said, and I smiled and donned gloves, then began fingering his ass. Rupert moaned as I began fingering his ass, and after I slid two fingers up his ass, I deemed him ready. I rubbed my strap-on dildo against Rupert’s asshole, and the brother turned around and looked at me. I smiled at him, and then, without another word, I pushed the dildo against his ass.

“Time to get fucked, my brother,” I said, laughing as I playfully slapped Rupert’s ass while fucking him. I absolutely love fucking a black man with my strap-on dildo. Sisters, you’ve got to try it. Now, as a dominatrix, I’ve dealt with men of all races but brothers have the nicest asses and they’re more fun to fuck. White dudes think they’re all that but have lousy asses. Ümraniye Escort I’m a butt woman, and I absolutely love to tease, and fuck, the hell out of the male posterior. Don’t like it? Sue me.

“Oh damn, fuck me,” Rupert whispered, and I actually cackled while fucking him. Rupert is six-foot-two, dark and handsome, and big, just the way I like them. I don’t go for skinny dudes. Frail men don’t do it for me. If I could top any of the black male celebrities out there, I’d top someone like Lebron James, or the rapper otherwise known as The Game. No punks or losers for me. I like to tame the macho black man, not the weaklings.

“Call me Mistress Tima,” I snapped at Rupert and he obligingly complied. Smiling, I continued fucking Rupert’s ass. There’s a certain art to the act of pegging, ladies and gentlemen. You’ve got to have trust between yourself and the other person. Rupert and I have played numerous times together, and I know his body almost as well as I know my own. That’s why I am digging up his ass with my strap-on. I know Rupert loves it rough!

“Mistress Tima, that was so much fun, thank you,” Rupert said, and I laughed, and nodded gently. I kissed my favorite sub on the lips, then he went to the nearby washroom and took a shower. Ten minutes later, Rupert emerged and went to get dressed, then we shared a hug before he left. Back to his mundane life and those lily-white chicks he likes to date at Carleton. Rupert and I both got what we wanted. The brother got to bottom and I got to top. Certain things a black person can only experience with another black person, no matter who we date, marry or fuck. That’s just the way it is. Goodnight.

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

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

Jeff deposited the balloon he had just sprayed with sperm outside on the patio. He was tempted to call Janice so that he could watch her stomp the cum-covered balloon into oblivion, but he was just too embarrassed; after all, she had only blown it up a few minutes before, right after she busted the last balloon he had jizzed all over. Men cumming on balloons didn’t seem to faze Janice much, but why push his luck?

Jeff decided he needed a little rest, realizing with some amusement that this might be the first time in his life when he wanted a break from images of women blowing up and popping balloons. He laid back on the bed, but the feel of the mattress reminded him of Suzette, who had used her incredible lungs to blow it rock-hard even as it bore both his weight and hers. Turning on his side, he gazed at a big 24″ balloon sitting in lounge chair, and wondered what goddess had blown it so big and tight—a thought that made other parts of him start to grow big and tight. His cock ached with the effort, as if to say, “Not again!”, but it responded nonetheless. No, he wasn’t going to get any rest, that was for sure.

He tried to conjure up a memory of the photos BustyLaura1234 had sent to him, tantalizing teases of her balloon-sized boobs showing a valley of cleavage and just a hint of brown areolae. But instead he found himself thinking of Tracy and the feel of her big, soft breasts pressing against his hands as she filled her mighty lungs and blew into a giant vinyl inflatable. He thought of the way her cheeks puffed big and round as she mercilessly delivered the death blow to a poor pink balloon that she had inflated well beyond its rated size, blowing long and hard into the trembling latex until she blasted it into a million rubber shards that floated away on the wind.

He thought of Suzette, her legs spread, her sparkling eyes drilling into his, forcing air from her lungs into the mattress they were lying on and pretending not to notice the tip of his cock as it pushed into her pussy, the head of his cock separated from its warm, wet folds only by the thin fabric of her panties.

He thought of Janice digging her fingers into a balloon that wasn’t quite perfect, her nails dimpling the latex just before it yielded to to her crushing grip and exploded. He thought of the way she quickly and expertly inflated another to replace it, blowing it big and full in wh at seemed like a matter of seconds, then casually tucking the tightly-inflated pear-shaped latex balloon under one slender arm as her experienced fingers tied it.

He thought of Alicia, her doe-eyed innocent features contorted as her cheeks swelled with the effort of blowing the big purple balloon, and Nan, lithe and fit, the first older woman to ever give him a hard-on as she blew up the same balloon even bigger and faster.

His hand curled around the shaft of his member, and that was all he needed. He blasted yet another load of cum into the comforter atop his bed.

So much for a nap, he thought.

Jeff thought about taking a walk around town, but he was concerned about what he would see; after all, he only had so Maltepe Escort many pairs of clean underwear. He decided instead that he would explore the hotel a bit—maybe check out the pool, where Janice had told him the bellgirls would be happy to blow up any pool toys he might want. He wondered if they had those big six-foot beach balls he had seen on the Internet, and he was pretty sure they did—along with a pretty maiden to transform it from a flat, featureless pile of latex into a sphere taller than he was using only lips and lungs, a woman who would undoubtedly huff and puff and puff and huff until every last wrinkle was blown smooth.

Down, boy, he thought.

Jeff pulled on clean clothes and headed down the stairs into the lobby. He hadn’t really looked around much when he checked in, distracted as he was by all the colorful balloons decorating the place—not to mention Janice at the front desk, who was blowing one of them up. The lobby had been mostly empty of people when he checked in, but now it was buzzing. There were clusters of comfortable chairs by the floor-to-ceiling bay windows, and most were full.

He wandered close to three women seated around a coffee table on which a briefcase was open and several balloons were laid out as if on display. One of the women, nattily dressed in a business suit, was holding up a bright red latex paddle that Jeff guessed would inflate to three feet or more.

“I imagine all the latex shards from overnflated balloons wreak havoc with your vacuum cleaners, Mrs. Inflar,” the woman was saying. Mrs. Inflar – Hadn’t Janice said she was the owner of the Balloonville Bed & Breakfast? The older woman sitting across from the woman in the suit chuckled.

“Oh, you have no idea,” she said, and the woman next to her, a petite young lady wearing a maid’s uniform, said, “I knew when I took the job I’d be cleaning rooms and blowing balloons, but I had no idea I’d be doing appliance repair!”

“I want to show you Fun Tyme’s latest innovation,” said the woman in the suit. “It’s called Bust-Rite. It’s a specially developed form of latex that bursts into fine shards that disintegrate easily and won’t clog your vacuum cleaner.”

“That sounds interesting,” said Mrs. Inflar, “but not all of our clients want their balloons to burst into shards.”

“That’s the beauty of Bust-Rite,” said the saleswoman. “In situations where a balloon would normally bust into small pieces, say its been overinflated, that’s when the technology goes to work. But if you pop it some other way—stomping, squeezing, sitting, pins, knives, cigarettes, whatever—then it pops like any other balloon would, into fewer and larger pieces.”

“Wait a second,” Mrs. Inflar said, leaning forward. “Are you telling me you’ve invented a balloon that actually knows how it’s being popped?”

The saleswoman smiled. “You could say that,” she said. “It has to do with how pressure is applied to the latex, and what the forces are that cause it to fail. So the latex fragments differently for an evenly-applied overpressure, like you would get if you blew the balloon to destruction, Ümraniye Escort versus a tearing failure as you would get if you pierced the balloon with a stiletto heel.”

“That’s amazing,” Mrs. Inflar said, sitting back. “And it really works?”

“It’s pretty incredible what our R&D department can do,” the woman said proudly. “Our lab researchers inflated and destroyed over 50,000 balloons in the development of Bust-Rite. It took a while to get it right, but the results are incredible.”

“It’s a little hard to believe,” said the woman in the maid’s uniform.

“I didn’t believe it either, to be honest with you, so I did my own comparison. I took a bunch of Bust-Rite balloons and a number of regular balloons, and I blew them up and popped them in pairs, one Bust-Rite and one regular, in every way you can think of. I stabbed them with pins, I sat on them, I stomped on them with different shoes. I even asked one of my co-workers who smokes to pop them with her cigarette. And of course I overinflated a bunch of them. I blew most of them by mouth. Some I overinflated right away , others I blew and deflated a few times so they would stretch and get extra big when I blew them to popping. I also blew a few to bursting with compressed air or helium. Every time I popped a balloon I would compare the shards, and I had a hard time telling the difference between the remains of a Bust-Rite balloon and a regular balloon. I blew dozens that day, and the only difference was how easily the overinflated Bust-Rite balloons went through our vacuum cleaners.”

“But does it affect the strength of the latex? You know, that’s why we use so many of your balloons here, Mary. We like knowing which ones are more durable and will take more rough treatment, and which ones are more delicate and will pop easily. That’s a big part of why our clientele likes it here, because we can always present them with the right balloon or inflatable for a given situation.”

“There’s no effect on performance of the latex, Mrs. Inflar,” Mary said. “Bust-Rite does make some of the thicker balloons a little harder to blow, but from what I hear, that’s not a problem for your employees.”

“That’s true,” said Mrs. Inflar with a smile. “They could ask us to decorate an entire room with blown-up hot water bottles, and my girls could handle it.”

“But let’s not try,” added the woman in the maid’s uniform, and all three of them laughed.

“Well, it’s an interesting idea, Mary,” said Mrs. Inflar. “I’d like to see it in action. How about we go up to my office for a demonstration?”

“Sure,” said Mary, pushing the balloons into her briefcase. The women stood up and headed towards Jeff on their way to the front desk. “I’ll start out by blowing a couple of 16″ balloons until they pop, one Bust-Rite and one regular, so you can compare the remains of the destroyed balloons for yourself. Then I’ll inflate some others for you so you can try different methods of popping. Jean,” she turned to the woman in the maid’s uniform, “Would you mind blowing one of the 60-inch balloons until it bursts? I want you to see that the technology İstanbul Escort works even on very large balloons.”

“Sure, I can handle that,” Jean said, “and I’d like to try blowing up at least one of the 36″ balloons to bursting, since that’s such a popular size for us here…” Their voices trailed off behind them.

Jeff found himself with a sudden need to hide his burgeoning hard-on, so he sat down in the chair Mary had vacated, which was still warm from her body. He wondered what she would look like, her chest swelling under her formal clothes as she filled balloon after balloon so they could be mercilessly popped seconds later, or what it would be like to see Jean’s small, lithe body pumping air into a giant latex orb until it stood as tall as she did, and then blowing it even further until it could take no more. How long would it take her to blow such a giant balloon until it exploded in her face? Would she flinch? Probaly not- Jeff thought of the last thing he heard her say. She knew she had a giant five-foot balloon to blow to popping, and she was talking about overinflating a three-footer right afterwards! He wondered if the big red balloon he had seen Mary holding up was the one that Jean was going to blow to destruction. His hard-on was threatening to burst through his belt again. Gosh, I thought these pants had a looser fit…

Sitting on the couch, he could now hear the women in the group of chairs behind him.

“He’s all, like, ‘Blow it, Vicki, blow it bigger, blow it bigger!’ And I’m like, ‘I can’t, it’s too hard!’ which of course it isn’t, and he knows that, I mean for God’s sake, I’ve been playing the bagpipes since I was 15, and if I can’t blow up a measly 36″ balloon to popping, I should probably quit blowing balloons altogether. But it really gets him off, so I do it. ‘Please, Steve, don’t make me blow it any more, I can’t, I can’t…’ My goodness, the things we do for love.”

“Well, at least your man likes balloons,” said another voice. “My guy is all about the inflatables. Big ones. You know what he does? He lets the air out of our king size mattress, and says, ‘Oh, honey, it’s a little soft, just top it up a little.’ Like I don’t know what he’s up to!”

“Doesn’t he know you blow up air mattresses and other inflatables for a living here at the B&B?” said another voice.

“Honey, if he knew what I got up to in this place, he’d either divorce me or follow me to work every day,” and all three of the women laughed.

Jeff couldn’t take any more. He picked up a magazine from the table (“The Inflationist,” which featured a Brazzolla ad on the back in which a busty blonde in a blue evening dress was blowing a big white sousaphone), held it over his crotch, and walked over to the front desk, where he found Janice—who, of course, was in the process of blowing up a big green balloon.

“Hi there,” she said, then took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, and blew a big neck into the balloon. It was all Jeff could do not to cum in his pants.

“Janice, I was wondering… you said this place had popping and non-popping rooms. What happens to the balloons in the non-popping rooms?”

“You know, not many people ask,” Janice said, tying the big green balloon and adding it to a pile at her feet. She looked at her watch. “I’ll tell you what, it’s just about time for my break. Come with me and I’ll show you.”

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

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

A quick note before we begin: This is only the first in what will eventually be a long series of stories that we’ve cowritten focused on the humiliation of Mistress Dana. Comments and suggestions are more than welcome and should be emailed through the link below. Thank you and enjoy.

Mistress Dana was in a fine mood as she stepped out of the low black limousine and into the elegant chrome and steel foyer of Mistress Sarah’s downtown palace- a sprawling boutique for the whips-and-chains set coupled with a studio and party room and god knows what else, scattered through the three stories and the underground chambers. It gave her a shiver to know the heights of pleasure and pain that had been achieved here… all orchestrated by the petite redhead whose invitation into the upper echelons of professional domination had brought her here today.

She marveled inwardly at the scope of the younger woman’s operation… since her debut as a dominatrix, the whole of the local fetish scene had embraced her and made her the center of their own leather and latex little world.

The receptionist behind the counter seemed to have been expecting her. Gesturing to a long stairwell that ascended behind her desk she said, “Mistress Sarah is expecting you… go along upstairs, Mistress Dana.”

“Thank you,” she replied, giving the woman a broad and predatory grin, simply seeking her reaction. However the woman simply sighed… as Dana moved closer she saw that the woman was naked from the waist down behind her desk and a simple remote control vibrator in her pussy had just turned on. The familiar buzz of toy against flesh filled the air and the receptionist let out a low moan- being rewarded for her work by Mistress Sarah herself, or maybe one of her subsidiary dommes.

Mistress Sarah took the idea of full commitment from her employees a step further, Mistress Dana thought, her respect for the woman redoubling.

As she walked up the stairs leaving the woman to her pleasure she suddenly heard a muttered curse… looking back to see the receptionist clenching her fists in frustration, she grinned. Full commitment from all, but the rewards came few and far between, she thought.

The helpless receptionist, denied orgasm again, sagged against her desk for a moment. Mistress Dana turned to walk up the stairs, wondering what kind of woman could be so consistently and conscientiously cruel.

She found Mistress Sarah sitting in a black leather recliner, wearing a black corset and latex shorts, having her feet rubbed by a slender man in a full face hood and business suit. One of her slaves, she surmised, and judging from the tented front of his pants one who found his duties utterly engrossing. The keen-eyed redhead was looking through an account book, toting up her earnings for the month, with a studious expression that turned into a broad smile as Dana entered.

“Mistress Dana! How nice to finally meet you in person!” Carelessly pushing the sub aside with one foot she rose and extended her hand Bostancı Escort for Dana to kiss. Dana shook it instead.

“Of course it is,” she said, smiling. She watched the younger woman’s dark brown eyes fill with something hot and surging, saw her lip struggling to curl, and waited with a mocking grin for some external sign of the obvious anger. So passionate, she thought, looking the younger woman up and down… such a shame that she was a mistress and thus beyond the grasp of Dana’s control. She found herself imagining pinning the younger woman down and straddling her mouth… or making her walk a mile in those high heeled boots with weighted clamps hanging from the delicate rose of her pussy… Dana shook her head to clear it. This little bitch, she thought with an inward smile, she had her lost in fantasy already. Someday, she promised herself… someday.

But instead Mistress Sarah summoned a broad and friendly smile and said, “So are you ready to plan your social debut?”

Settling back into another of the chairs, mentally chalking up one point for herself, Mistress Dana rested her booted feet on the kneeling slave’s shoulders and said “Absolutely… it’s so nice to have a friend in my new town. And your agreement to help with my introduction to the local, ah… scene… well, when I saw you’d invited over 100 people to see my first public performance as a domme… I’m very thankful to you.”

The broad smile on Mistress Sarah’s face acquired a certain brittleness at Dana’s subtly antagonistic tone. Then, controlling herself, she said “Well of course. Always eager to help a fellow Mistress to establish herself.”

Dana leaned forward eagerly. “Is it true that you’ve invited several of my old customers and competitors to come and see?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure they wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Mmm, good… I hope that they’ll see me in action and realize who’s really in charge…” Making eye contact with the younger woman, “It’s so good to have other Mistresses know who’s top dog.”

That same dark fury, again subsiding slowly. That same brittle smile. “Yes, I’ve heard you were particularly vicious… some of them will no doubt be harboring resentment. I’m sure that after tonight they’ll have no questions about what kind of dog you are.”

There was a power-line moment between them as they both realized another minute’s polite conversation would have them at each other’s throats or between each other’s legs and then Mistress Sarah said “I’ve prepared a catalog of everything I have available for the slut you’ll be using at tonight’s party… shall we go through it together and decide what you want to do with the centerpiece of tonight’s event?”

“Mmmm, tell me all about her… is she a degraded little whore? Is she gonna be able to take whatever I want to give her?”

Grinning back Mistress Sarah said, “Well, to be honest… not at first. I understand she’s incredibly poorly behaved and has a terrible attitude… not very experienced, Kadıköy Escort and she has a lot of limits but, with my help… you’re going to get rid of all of them.”

Mistress Dana had to fight down the surge of fire between her thighs, the sudden desire… she knew she was cruel but this thin, lovely redhead, with her curling hair and wide smile, was something different and vicious.

To avoid revealing the flush on her cheeks spreading down to her cleavage she turned to the leather-bound catalog that Sarah had placed on the desk. “Let’s start with an enema… what should we use?”

“Well, I understand that urine or cum is traditional for these situations… but I have something special,” Sarah said, her grin broadening. “It’s a special formulation one of my clients made for me… a thin blue liquid. It’s a lubricant and a stimulant, as well as an aphrodisiac but here’s the best part… it has no psychoactive effects. It simply makes your body incredibly sensitive, to both pleasure and pain, and in women makes orgasm both much easier and much more dramatic.”

Dana couldn’t believe it. What an incredible invention! Trying not to stutter, she said, “That’s fantastic, how perfect for degrading an illbehaved slut like this! How much should we give her?”

Sarah turned momentarily to make a note. In a bored sounding voice she said, “It works best in vast amounts. I’d say two gallons.”

“Oh my god that’s vicious! I bet with that on our side, we could really stretch this bitch out… do you think we could work her up to taking a whole fist?”

Sarah grinned, looking back at her, a sudden charge of common purpose between them. “That’s what it’s for. I love making stuck-up bitches realize that I own every part of them, can make them feel however I want them to feel, make them take whatever I want them to take, and there’s nothing they can do about it…”

Sarah clearly had someone in mind. But Dana, lost in imagining the night’s activities, was pacing with excitement- looking over Sarah’s possessions, her many trophies and curios, until she found one that sparked her curiosity. “Is this a picture of Jessica? That slave of mine who moved here?”

Sarah looked up. “Ah yes, Jessica. I remember she bought her freedom from you but she wasn’t able to stay out of trouble… she’s been mine now for awhile, to varying extents.”

“I remember that little cunt. You know that her ass was virgin until I got to her? God the things she threatened me with… I’m glad to hear she’s back under control.” Dana had a sudden flash of memory of her own gloved fist moving incrementally deeper into the tall blonde’s pussy while she moaned and helplessly threatened revenge, her freshly shaved lips parting obscenely while the crowd cheered… and suddenly the face and body wasn’t Jessica’s tanned blonde but Sarah’s athletic redhead, the lips that curled in pleasure and pain were her full sensuous ones, the breasts that bore long red stripes from the cane were her small firm mounds, Göztepe Escort in Dana’s imagination tipped with pink nipples like flowering buds, just demanding to be teased and tortured…

Sarah’s voice snapped her out of the reverie. “Now of course we’ll need clamps.”

Dana paused in her perambulation and walked over to Sarah’s desk. With utterly deliberate but very practiced nonchalance, she sat down on the other Mistress’ desk- almost brushing Sarah’s face with her ass- and took the book from her hand. “I’m sure you have all kinds of clamps, Sarah. Let’s see what’s best,” she said, turning and looking down at the younger woman with a patronizing expression.

Sarah said nothing. In her mind, though, she could only calm her fury by remembering that all this was a prelude to something so much more satisfying.

“Mmm… let’s have alligator clamps. One on each nipple, wired for electrical, and one on each labia, with let’s say… two pounds of weight on each, on a foot of chain so they sway when she walks. That ought to keep her mind occupied.”

“Excellent.” Sarah made another note. “And of course all of this is being recorded. The party room is wired for video and live feed… people will be paying to watch you perform. Judging from the anticipation online, you may have an audience of hundreds. And we’ll be selling recordings, of course.”

Dana cooed with pleasure. “That’s fantastic! I’m sure that with your equipment and my ability, we’ll make a real splash. After all, tonight is the first night of my life in this new city. I want to make sure that it will define me, make sure everyone knows my name and just what I am.” She stood up and stretched briefly, luxuriously, before turning back to Sarah and saying, “Let’s go check out the setup! I’m so excited to see the place that all

Thank you so much for arranging all of this! I hope you understand how grateful I am.”

Sarah stood too, and with a broad smile she hooked her arm around the taller woman’s waist. “Oh, it’s my pleasure.” Giving her a squeeze she said in a mock gruff voice, “I intend to make good money off you, Mistress Dana.” Returning to her normal voice she said, “Oh don’t worry, babe. After tonight everyone will know exactly what you are.”

The touch was electric and suddenly Dana found herself dampening imagining the younger woman with tears in her eyes and a cock in her mouth, her tender young pussy spread out by clamps, her wide eyes blurring with the latest load of cum or piss to be splashed onto her, those sensuous lips and that delicate tongue used like a wet fuckhole by a stranger under Dana’s command…

Sarah must have noticed the sudden change in Dana’s character and leaned into her a little. Looking up at her, she turned gently towards the taller woman until they were face to face. Then she leaned up and placed a single delicate kiss on Dana’s lips, their mouths meeting for only a second but it was long enough for Dana to realize her panties were wet and that this younger girl was in every way a goddess.

She renewed her ambition to own her.

Sarah broke the kiss first and smiled up at the taller woman, then taking her hand, led her down to a maze of corridors, down to the studio, where the show was almost ready to begin.

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

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

White male, 30, blonde, 5’8″ 140 lbs. Seeking woman my age or older for JOI. I would be very grateful.

I became addicted to Internet porn when my marriage ended, but when I discovered JOI, an acronym for jerk off instructions, I knew that I had to have more than the free clips I’d been watching. I wasn’t interested enough to pay for longer videos, but I figured that I might find the real thing on Craigslist. I added the part in the ad about being grateful as a sign that I was willing to pay. I received quite a few emails but they were from hardened prostitutes or meth addicts. I’d just about given up when I received this email:

“Hi! I had to Google JOI just to find out what it was and I was surprised but intrigued. My former husband had a thing for female domination. At first I just went along with his fantasies until I found that I actually enjoyed bossing him around. It’s been a long time but I think together we could have some mutual fun. If you’re still interested, be at this address this Saturday morning at ten.”

I was excited but terrified. I expected to trade a few emails, some pictures and eventually a phone number. I wasn’t expecting her bold response. She must be very trusting or this was some kind of scam. Nevertheless, I was standing the next Saturday morning on the porch of an average looking house in a typical suburban neighborhood. The door was answered by an attractive middle aged woman with incredible green eyes. She had dark red hair with pale freckles and even paler skin. She was wearing khaki shorts, a blouse and sandals.

“Oh hi!” she practically shouted, “You must be the guy from the Craigslist ad.” I cast a furtive glace around to see if anyone was listening. “Please come in, she said, “Excuse the mess, it’s been a busy week.” She led me through the house (which didn’t appear dirty at all) to a large living room in the back of the house.

Like many 50’s suburban homes, the room was added on to the house when the family grew larger. It was very bright, with large picture windows and a sliding glass door to the backyard. She invited me to have a seat on the couch while she sat back in a reclining chair.

“So, you are interested in JOI, or jerkoff instructions?” There was a pause until I realized that she was expecting me to answer. I nodded my head like a bobble head doll.

“I watched some of the videos clips online, she said. “There were a number of different scenarios, but the result ended always with the man jerking off while being laughed at and humiliated. Is that what you were looking for in your ad?” I quietly answered in the affirmative.

“Wonderful, but there are some things we need to go over first. There will be no sex. You will not touch me nor I you. You will come over at this time every Saturday morning. İstanbul Escort We will come in here and you will lower your slacks and underpants to your shoes. You will get down on your knees in front of me and start jerking off. You will not stop until you have reached orgasm, however long that takes. It could be a minute or it could be hours, I really don’t care. I can tell by your face that this is why you’ve come here, isn’t it?

“There is one other thing I need to make clear. My husband would get so horny and into his fantasies while we played, but as soon as he achieved orgasm he wanted to return to his normal macho self.”

From underneath her chair she produced a dark blue dinner plate and placed it on the floor at her feet.

“This is where you will deposit your semen. Don’t get any on my new carpet. If you expect to be invited back for another visit, you will be required to lick it up until the plate is completely clean. Do you think you can do that?”

“I don’t know, I answered truthfully, “I’m like your husband that way. I always chicken out but I’m willing to try for you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you to think of me. Now, let’s get started, shall we?” Again there was a long pause until I realized that she wanted me to drop my pants, right then and there! With trembling fingers, I pulled down my pants and knelt before her. I heard for the first time the musical laugh that would soon haunt my dreams.

“Oh my goodness! My husband had a small one but yours makes his seem enormous! That’s the tiniest dick I’ve ever seen in the flesh. It’s smaller than a roll of quarters! Does it get any bigger?” I answered that it would surely grow when I started jerking off. “Everyone knows that you can’t jerk off with a limp dick,” she replied.

“Go on and play with it for me. Let’s see if you can get it hard but first I want you to take the bottom of your shirt and bring it up to the neck. Now, pull it through and down. There, now I can watch you fiddle with yourself. I’d tell you how feminine you look but you aren’t into that, are you? That would be so weird!” She laughed hysterically at her sarcasm.

She giggled while my fingers fondled my cock. “It looks like we won’t need to shave those baby balls, do we? You have hardly any hair at all down there! Tickle those balls while you play with yourself. My, it doesn’t seem to be working, does it? I’m going to check my email on my tablet. Keep playing with yourself until you’re ready to perform for me. By the way, you will address me always as Mrs. O’Brien.”

I’ve never in my life had any trouble getting an erection, but try as I may, it just wouldn’t get hard. In fact, my little dick was going turtle on me until nothing showed but the tiny crown. I thought of the long legs, her Anadolu Yakası Escort soft breasts and firm bottom before me but that just made it worse.

She settled down in her chair with her tablet. “Start stroking, you pathetic little pervert. I don’t care that it’s still soft. I like to watch the head flap up and down. I said jerk it! I want to see how much you can cum with that little thing you call a penis. I see that you only need two fingers to jerk off. Even my husband used three, ha!

“Come on, I’m supposed to be giving you instructions, so let’s see you work those hips. I said roll those buns, jackoff! Hold your dick still and fuck your hand with your pelvis. My god, you really are a failure; you can’t even masturbate correctly! You need someone tell you how to beat your meat!

I was mortified, but I kept pulling on my dick, frightened by the change in her tone of voice. I realized from the tinny sound of the Ipad’s little speaker that she was looking at porn sites.

“My god,” she exclaimed, “I thought my husband was a freak, but he just wanted me to tie him to the bed and ride his cock. I can’t believe people do this stuff. Some of it is funny, some are just disgusting. Look at these guys here, all they want to do is dress up like women and mince around in their hotel room. Some of them like to be spanked or placed over a sawhorse and whipped with a cane.

“Look at this guy.” She turned the tablet so that I could see the video clip. “He not only let these big black studs fuck his wife, he licked her pussy clean when they finished! That’s even more disgusting than this woman fucking her husband with a huge strapon dildo. I know my ass couldn’t take that but I’ll bet you could—if you were into that stuff.

“So many perverts doing the most perverted things, I never would have imagined there were so many sick people out there. Nevertheless, they all have one thing in common. Perverts and sickos that they are, they still aren’t as pathetic as you. I don’t mean to say that what you do is the sickest or the most repulsive, I mean that you are the most pathetic.

“That’s right, loser, when it comes to being pathetic, you are lower than the fag who kneels in the men’s room with his mouth open. Would you like to know why? Because these people are interacting! They see other people, touch each other, exchange body fluids. They have actual life experiences! They have a life!

“But now look at you, kneeling before an ordinary housewife and stroking your little dick, not allowed to touch anyone or anything but that tiny weenie, which by the way is now as stiff as a twig. What gave you a hardon? Was it because I was talking about all of those kinky people, or was it the realization that you are the most worthless, pathetic Üsküdar Escort loser of them all? Answer me!

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mrs. O’Brien. I know that I’m a pathetic loser.”

“Say it again and look me in the eye!”

“I’m a pathetic loser.”

“A pathetic loser with a small dick, say it!”

“I’m a pathetic loser with a small dick.”

“That’s right, loser, no one wants to fuck you. No one wants to kiss you or even touch you. Even fat horny slobs go to a strip club and get a lapdance just to feel some body contact. Not you, you’d rather masturbate in front of a soccer mom. I’ll bet even the strippers wouldn’t want to sit on your lap!”

I was masturbating furiously, jerking my cock when I realized that she was recording me with her tablet. Damn, this new technology! I could feel myself getting close when she bent forward so that her face was inches from mine.

“I’ll bet I can guess what goes through your mind after you’ve had your orgasm. You laugh at yourself for being so silly, for jerking off to all of those weirdo’s and freaks online. But soon, while you are licking your plate clean, you will recall a time when you could end a jackoff session with that sort of denial. Those times ended when I told you that you are lower than all of those creeps. You are a worthless excuse for a man, the most pathetic creep of them all.

“But you’ve known this, deep in your subconscious, you know why you spend hours jerking off to these freaks. You may think after you’ve spent your seed that you are superior to these people when the truth is, you envy them!

“You wish that you had the balls to do some of the things these people enjoy and that’s why you are here, because you would rather hide your true emotions. You believe this is all you deserve and nothing more. Well, something more has happened today. Tonight, you will go to sleep with the knowledge that someone else knows your dirty secrets.”

I could take no more. With a feeble whimper, I ejaculated onto the dinner plate. The contrast of the milky white liquid against the royal blue pottery was almost pretty after I deposited three large puddles of semen onto the plate.

Moments later, while I licked my semen from the blue plate, I knew the difference between fantasy and reality. I heard her laughing and realized that never in my life had I felt so degraded and humiliated. She was right. Simply kneeling and jerking off in front of a woman is just sick. I was concerned about the video she recorded but I was even more aware that this was the first time I tasted semen. It tasted awful but I knew that I would do it again for Mrs. O’Brien.

I was standing in the foyer waiting to leave. We still hadn’t discussed money and I was growing concerned until she handed me her cable bill. It was almost two hundred dollars.

“This is due today so you’ll have to drive it over there. See you next week!” She smiled cheerfully and closed the door behind me. I wondered what else it would cost me to kneel at Mrs. O’Brien’s feet again.

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

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

That afternoon at 6 when I arrived home from the office I went to my mailbox as I do every day. Shoving the envelopes in my open pocketbook I walked back toward the apartment building with my key held out to let myself inside quickly. It’s freezing out here I said to myself. Closing the front door brought much welcome relief from the biting cold of January.

While eating a Healthy Choice microwave dinner I opened the envelope that was addressed in fancy gold penmanship.

I read an invitation that I knew subconsciously would be coming to me sooner or later.

“You are invited to Helena, Indiana high school 25th reunion. It will be held at the Marmot Hotel.” I looked carefully at the street address, and room name given.

This might be interesting I thought. There are a lot of people I would like to see again. There were a few boys whom I dated but they’re probably married by now no doubt. There were some girls I would love to see again and see how they turned out.

The date was a month away. I took out the inner envelope that had been self addressed back to the reunion committee and quickly wrote in 1. There was no one special whom I would bring.

The last time I had a significant other I was in college. Madison and I had gone separate ways after my sophomore year. When she transferred to a different school we did not stay in touch. It was a long time before my heart mended.

Cheryl Thatch was something of a loner in high school. She was certainly not homely by any stretch but not a beauty queen either. She güngören eskort bayan was a tall, thin redhead with hazel eyes and not quite full lips.

Cheryl and I were friendly toward each other in high school. We engaged in a lot of girl talk, and went out for cigarette breaks together. Outside of school we actually saw little of each other.

That Friday night in late February I came to the hall where the reunion was being held. Approaching the reception desk I took my name tag from the reunion committee. They greeted me.

“Stephanie Blake how are you?”

“I’m fine thank you. It’s nice to see all of you people again.”

The committee consisted of Edward Harrison, and Janet Lynn.

“So Ed,” I began, ” bring me up to date.”

” I left my husband home and I came here.”

It was not a secret to anyone that Edward was gay. One could see it in his mannerisms, and hear it in the tone of his voice.

“Are you a hair stylist?”

“As a matter of fact I am. Ronald is a cabinet maker.”

“I didn’t realize that gay marriage was legal in this state.”

“It isn’t hon, but we live together. We may as well be married.”

During high school I had an inkling that girls would excite me sexually but I kept that side of me hidden. However short lived the romances, lovers had been boys. In short, my love life was normal for a teen girl.

By 10 I had met and chatted with everyone there, finished my meal, and had one alcoholic drink. Walking out from the function room, şişli bayan escort I sat in a cushioned chair and lit a cigarette. Cheryl came out.

I turned my eyes toward her and was unable to look away from her face. The attraction was mutual and strong. Her eyes met mine.

“I took a room for the night.”

“Do you have a long drive home?”

“Yes I do,” she answered.

Cheryl and I walked back into the function room like two old friends. Her personality seemed to not change since high school days. She still had the same perky sense of humor, and the same good natured demeanor.

At 11, ready to make love, Cheryl closed the door softly to room 210. She pulled me toward her tall, lean body. Our lips pressed together. Her hands caressed my back. Her lips pressed onto my neck. A second kiss followed then a third and a fourth. The soft buzz of my zipper going down excited me.

Pushed by her hand and mine, my dress fell to the floor at my feet. I stepped out of it.

Her lips brushed lightly against mine, but his time my mouth fell open. Cheryl’s tongue went deep inside.

She eased me onto the bed pressing her body onto mine pushing off my bra cups. Her hand went up to my boob squeezing, and rubbing as her thumb brushed over the nipple. My nipples went erect. Down below I could feel her fingers push into my vagina and her thumb rubbing gently on my now swollen clitoris. My sex juices were spewing out soaking my panties.

As I slowly recovered from multiple orgasms my lover lay esenler eskort bayan turned toward me caressing my belly with her finger tips. The time to chat heart to heart had come.

“I had a crush on you back in 11th grade. I wanted to go out with you one night.”

“I didn’t realize that I’m lesbian until my college days.”

Tommy Reno, a jock who played hockey, was one of perhaps half a dozen boys I dated during high school days. It hurt a little when he and the others left but my heart always recovered quickly. I was senior. He turned out to be the last boy in my life.

Maddie was different. She had been my first real love, the first time I had ever felt emotion deeply but the affair now some 23 years behind me.

“During my sophomore year in college I had moved into a lesbian dormitory. Madison and I were sexual almost from day one. I thought we could stay in touch after that school year but that never happened.”

That was the last time I would ever mention that former girlfriend. My lover listened attentively.

She had her own history.

“I got all my experiences in lesbian bars. They come, and they go. It’s like high school. Nothing lasts very long.”

That meant that her first sex happened not before her twenty first year.

Just like high school, I thought. Those girls have all the same pickup lines.

In the morning, refreshed from eight hours of sound sleep, Cheryl and I awoke about the same time.

Just before we parted at checkout time, I handed her a piece of paper from the note pad on the desk. She read my home address, phone and cell phone number and stuffed the paper into her pocketbook. Pulling out her favorite pen she proceeded to write. Reading it, I quickly realized that she did not live far from me.

There would be many more showers together.

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

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

The following story continues about the escapades of Ellie and Rachel that began with Curing Tummy Troubles and More. All characters are over the age of 18. This story does have some girl-on-girl action and a very little clinical element. If this isn’t your cup of tea, you have been forewarned.

Ellie and Rachel are both certified nurse practitioners at a large OB/GYN practice in Seattle. Rachel was divorced a little over a year ago and Ellie has dated, but never married. Both are very attractive women: Ellie in her early 30s and Rachel in her late 20s.

In the first episode Ellie had confided in Rachel that she needed some serious help having a bowel movement. Later at Rachel’s condo, Ellie was given a couple of enemas but then was introduced to Rachel’s strap-ons. Although Rachel owned three, she only used the smallest for this first time. Unbelievably, Ellie really enjoyed the experience and wanted Rachel to show her the largest strap-on in the collection.

Ellie took a few minutes to have a break with a cup of coffee—to her caffeine was one of the main food groups. As she stood in the break area savoring her second swallow, Rachel happened to walk in.

“Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”

“Much better in a couple of ways. Thanks to you.”

“If there’s one thing that nurses know how to do it has to be how to give a good enema.”

“That’s not all some nurses know how to do,” said Ellie with a naughty giggle. “And what did you mean the other night when you said that the device we used was the smallest?” she added in an almost whisper afraid that perhaps the conversation might be overheard by someone walking by.

“Just that. I happen to own three of them and that was the smallest. Wasn’t it satisfactory?” asked Rachel holding back a girlish giggle.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong because it was unbelievably satisfactory. It’s just that I have been wondering what the larger sizes are like,” she whispered her face turning crimson in the process.

“There is only one way to find out. What are you doing on Friday night? Have any plans? I don’t think I have any hot dates so why don’t we grab dinner and drink and then return to my condo?”

“Gee! Really? That sounds great. Friday is five days away and I can’t wait.”

The rest of the days that week seemed to take forever and whenever Ellie though about using the strap-on she felt her panties starting to get damp. But Friday evening did arrive and after heading home to change from scrubs they met at a little bistro for drinks and something to eat. To say that the anticipation was a huge distraction for Ellie would have been a gross understatement.

When they got to Rachel’s apartment, they headed back to the master bathroom where Rachel opened her cupboard filled with sex toys. She took out the strap-on that they had used the week before and held it up.

“This is what we used last week,” she said.

Ellie took a close look and realized that even the smallest one was not that small now that she could see it for real again. “I had that thing up my butt!” she said to herself as that damp feeling returned to her bikinis. “Wow!” was the only thing she could say.

“Now güngören escort this is the next larger size,” said Rachel holding up a device that was a bit longer but was but not really much thicker.

“Oh, my gosh!” said Ellie. “And how much larger is the third one?”

Rachel found the largest strap-on and held it up. Ellie swallowed hard wondering how anyone could take something of that size either vaginally or rectally. “Maybe we should begin with the medium one,” she confided.

“I’ve only ever used the smallest and the medium. Both are a lot of fun!” added Rachel “but I have one other thing that is still in the package. It’s called a double-ended dildo.” She took a package that had been half hidden from the top shelf, opened it and took out the very purple pliable double-ended phallus. If you want we could both try this in our vaginas, but if you wanted add a little more kink then one of us could have it in her vagina and the other one up her butt.”

Ellie turned crimson at the sight of the device. “We have time, maybe we try both?” she somewhat bashfully asked.

“That might be fun, but there are two things that we have to be careful about.”

“What’s that?”

“Each of us has to have a decent enema to clean us out first, and the dildo has to be carefully cleaned between uses. We don’t ever want any infections in our girly bits.”

“Honestly, I’m so wet just looking at this. So let me make the decions: why don’t we first try it out vagina to vagina.”

“OK,” said Rachel getting a couple of nice big fluffy towels plus the tube of lube and taking them to the bedroom.”

“First,” said Ellie, “I think I have to change into something that might enhance the mood. Can I use your spare bedroom?”

“Sure,” replied Rachel who then thought that this was a good idea, too. She got out a sheer beige baby doll that showed off everything in their most sexy light. A few minutes later Ellie came back wearing a gossamer thin black short nightie that one could probably read a phonebook through. It was also low cut showing off her perfect D cup boobs their pink areolae readily revealed.

“Well, look at you!” exclaimed Rachel. “Good enough to eat.”

“Thanks, but I was hoping that you’d say good enough to fuck. Actually, the color of that baby doll makes you look nearly naked. And I’m getting horny.”

“Me, too,” Rachel said as she went over, kissed Ellie’s neck and fondled her nipples before lowering her lips to suckle one.

“Oh, I love that. Whenever a guy did that to me, I swear that my nipples had a direct connection to my pussy. I feel myself getting wet already,” she said sitting down on the bed and then lying back spreading her legs exposing her perfectly shaved pubis that was already glistening with her natural juices.

Rachel wasted no time positioning herself where she could begin by kissing Ellie’s pussy and then working up to sucking her clit. Ellie’s body responded by producing even more lubricating juices that Rachel licked off and savored the delicious flavor.

Ellie began with faint whimpers of pleasure that eventually escalated to louder moans. Finally, she just begged, “Oh, please eskort şişli just fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.”

Rachel got off the bed and picked up the double-ended dildo. She applied a liberal amount of lubricant to one side of it, half squatted and introduced its tip into her vagina. The soft gel-like material enabled her to slowly work it up inside of her and once sufficiently inserted felt very much like a male organ—in other words, wonderful.

There was a slight problem, however, and that was that she could not stand up straight without it really being painful. She felt that she could work around that issue and climbed back on the bed where Ellie was lying spreadeagle in great anticipation. Lying with her legs intertwined between Ellie’s knees Rachel lubricated the other end of the dildo as liberally as she had the end that was now impaled in her. Feeling that everything was now ready, Rachel slowly introduced the dildo into Ellie.

“Oh, wow, but that feels so good,” she said feeling her pulse quicken and her breathing deepen.

“It feels good for me, too, but you have a bit more of this that still has to go in.”

“Go ahead! Ugh! Oh, my God! Mmmm!”

“You OK?”

“I think so,” said Ellie gasping for air. “I’ve never had anyone or anything that was so well hung inside of me.”

“Honestly, me neither!” replied Rachel now moving the dildo in and out but being that there were no straps to retain it, each end moved in and out thus providing satisfaction to both women.

After a few minutes of this intense action Ellie exclaimed, “Rachel, this is driving me nuts. I’ve got to cum. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

Rachel wasn’t that far behind in reaching a climax and soon had to cum as well. After recovering, she said to Ellie, “That was incredible. It’s too bad that I waited so long before trying it.”

“I’m glad that it was me that could help.”

“Me, too,” said Rachel withdrawing the phallus from Ellie. The two vaginas and the phallus were especially slippery from both the lube and the natural juices of each woman.

“I loved it. Not quite as good as doing it with a guy, but it, or maybe I should say you, were spectacular. Did you like it?”

“I really did. I’m only sorry that it stayed in the closet, or maybe that is not the right term, for so long,” Rachel giggled at the unintended pun.

“What do we want to do now?” asked Ellie. “Want to try using it anally?”

“OK. That might be fun,” said Rachel getting off the bed and removing the dildo from her vagina. “Wow, this was fun but it sure is messy. Tell you what, I’ll go wash this off really well, but you’ll need to go take an enema. You saw where the bag is kept.”

“What? You’re not going to give me one?”

“No, you’re a nurse and know how to do a proper one. Right now I’m already getting wet again at the thought of trying the dildo in your butt.”

Rachel busied herself at one of the double sinks scrubbing the dildo with warm soapy water and then rinsing it with some Listerine, while Ellie filled the enema bag at the other sink. By the time Rachel had cleaned the dildo to her satisfaction, Ellie had already taken the enema and was on esenler escort the potty expelling it.

When all was said and done, the two women returned to the bedroom where Rachel again after applying a generous amount of lube slowly inserted one end of the dildo into her vagina as Ellie assumed a standing position at the foot of the bed with her back to Rachel leaned over and offered her bum. Rachel then coated the other end and slowly introduced it into Ellie’s anus remembering how new Ellie was to having things inserted back there.

It might be only the second time, at least to Rachel’s knowledge, that Ellie had ever had anal sex but she felt that Ellie was really into it and acted like she’d experienced it many times prior. Yet the dildo was long and Rachel wanted to make certain that Ellie had no discomfort. She was also aware that if not sufficiently careful the long device could potentially hit her cervix when they were thrusting. She would be careful. Then she reached around and fondled Ellie’s ample tits. “Gosh, but these are so luscious,” she thought to herself as she gently took Ellie’s nipples between her thumbs and index fingers and gave some pinches.

Ellie responded with more of those faint “Mmmm” sounds transmitting her pleasure to Rachel and implying that she should continue doing what she was doing.

It was then that Rachel began with short gentle strokes that Ellie seemed to enjoy immensely as she built to climax. As she became more excited the strokes became longer and deeper. Lots of pussy juice from the two women mixed with the lubricant that both their bodies were producing. The air had that distinct odor that only comes from sexually excited females and the dildo once again became very slippery.

Unlike with male ejaculation a dildo does not get flaccid but rather retains its shape even when it was withdrawn first from Ellie and then from Rachel. “That was awesome!” exclaimed Ellie, “but I’m exhausted.”

“So am I,” replied Rachel. “I’m not sure I can go a third round. We can save that for the next time. A nice glass of wine will help us unwind,” she added as she handed Ellie a towel.

“Rachel, this was one of the best experiences of my life. I really appreciate it, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Does this mean that we have crossed over and become lesbians?”

“Not necessarily, but why?”

“I guess it’s safe to say that I still really like fucking guys. One day I hope I can meet one, get married, and make babies with him.”

“That’s not so unusual. I had hoped for that when I was married, but it didn’t work out. Yeah, I’d like that, too.”

“So are we now lesbians?”

“I don’t think so, but we probably are what they call ‘bi’ if you know what I mean,” replied Rachel as she was opening the bottle of pinot grigio and pouring two glasses. She handed one to Ellie, raised hers and toasted “to us.”

“Maybe we should drink to dildos,” Ellie giggled as she sipped the glass of wine.

“If there is a downside to using that double-ended dildo it’s that my pussy is pretty sore about now. If anything it needs a good rest and I’m glad that tomorrow is not a work day.”

“I could say that I’m exhausted, but otherwise feel OK.”

“You didn’t have the dildo up your pussy for action twice in one evening.”

“No, but I guess some people have all the luck!” Ellie said with a giggle. Then holding her tits added, “plus my nipples are really sore.”

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

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

I’m a 33-year-old happily married woman, mother of four, who has always been very very bi-curious. I remember when I was a teen trying on clothes in my room with a friend or two and sometimes I would admire them. Of course, I felt it wasn’t right and suppressed those feelings.

I got married pretty young (21), and eventually shared my feelings and fantasies with my husband, who got VERY turned on hearing me speak about it. Unfortunately, Costa Rica is a very small, conservative country, where everyone pretty much knows everyone. This ruled out almost every chance of experimentation. Although I travel abroad once or twice a year, I really wouldn’t know where or how to start looking to quench my desires.

Luckily, fate intervened a few weeks ago and I am dying to share it with someone, so here it goes.

My family and I went to enjoy a long weekend at the beach and as soon as we pulled into the house, I got a call saying I was wanted for a shoot. Trust me, I’m not a super model by any stretch of the imagination, but I do occasional commercials every now and then. Because I was leaving for the States in a couple of weeks (shopping girls), any extra money would come in perfectly. I asked my husband and he was all for it, so I hopped back into the car and drove home, leaving hubby all alone with the 4 kids!

By the time I made it back into the city, I was literally exploding, and had to tinkle BADLY. I ran into the house and into the nearest bathroom. When I was done, and much calmer, as I buttoned my jeans, I swore I heard moaning. Yeah…moaning!

At first I was little scared…I mean, why would anyone be moaning in my house, which was suppose to be empty. But, as I neared my bedroom, I remembered we had asked our neighbor’s daughter to look after our dog. You know…feed and walk.

Obviously she invited her boyfriend over and was REALLY going at it. But, as I neared the bedroom, I heard that background music that all erotic films have. So now the question was, was Margarita moaning or was it the TV? I’ve never felt so sinister in my life. Instead of going in the bedroom, I went around to the bathroom that connects to it, and once in there, I peaked inside.

My first reaction was absolute shock. There, on my bed, was Margarita, with a t-shirt bunched up above her breasts and NOTHING else on, with MY massager firmly planted on her clitty, in the throes of a very powerful orgasm.

She was transfixed to the TV and she was moaning away almost in unison with the character on the screen who was being made love to orally. Well, I said, that my first reaction was shock, then, I felt dirty…yeah, really dirty. I mean, here I was looking at this 18 or 19-year-old girl, who-by-the-way I have known for about ten years, pleasuring herself on my bed, and I guess I felt dirty because it was arousing me, very much.

Every time she orgasmed, she would lift that tight little butt of hers off the bed and push herself harder onto the massager ’till I thought she would snap the handle. While I was torn by what to do, my last feeling was embarrassment. For me and her, and I really didn’t want to embarrass her and tarnish our relationship. So I quietly walked out of the bathroom, soaked panties and all, realizing this WAS the opportunity I had been waiting for all my life, but hey, to approach my friends daughter would be just plain wrong.

I made my way outside, sat in my car with my heart pounding, deliberating my next move. I made some calls confirming the time and place where I had to be the next day, and after ten minutes, decided to ring the doorbell.

No answer. I rang it again, and still no answer. Three minutes later, I rang it again and again, ’till I heard her yell, “Coming!”

She peered through the window, was very surprised to see me, and opened the door immediately. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a little messy, and she was wearing my terry cloth robe which looked incredibly sexy on her.

Just so you can imagine Margarita, she’s very tall, maybe 5’9″, thin, long jet black hair, beautiful brown eyes, and probably doesn’t weigh more than 120 – 125lbs. Her breasts are small and her legs, incredibly long. And she has a very nice butt. I mean, up to then, I had never looked at her as a sexual being, you know, but us girls do admire one another every now and then.

Anyway, to say she was speechless wouldn’t begin to describe her.

She said she wasn’t expecting me, that the dog had jumped on her and gotten her clothes dirty so she was washing them, and, she was watching a movie while the clothes washed.

No problem I said.

She went on and on about apologizing for wearing my robe. “Margarita, please, don’t worry. It’s NO problem.” I assured her.

I went to my bedroom with my little bag in tow and she followed closely behind. I immediately placed my bag on the bed and opened it, and started taking my stuff out. I was eyeing the place out of the corner of my eye, and I noticed her clothes on the floor on my side of the bed, and the corded massager on top of the nightstand.

I escort bayan merter ignored them, grabbed my cosmetic bag, and went into the bathroom to put them away.

When I came back to the bedroom, no Margarita, no clothes, and the massager was back in its place (bottom drawer of the night stand).

I put my clothes away, changed into shorts and a t, and made my way to the outside terrace where Margarita was already seated on one of the couches.

“Sweetie, you want something to drink?”

“I’ll take a diet coke, thanks”

“OH come on, let’s have a real girl’s night” I suggested. “My husband was going to make Margaritas tonight at the beach, and I can almost taste them…what do you say?”

“Really!?….Ok!”

I put ice in the blender, added the tequila and mix, rimmed the glasses with salt, and poured us each a healthy drink.

We toasted to girls night, and started chatting immediately.

We spoke of clothes, shopping, boyfriends, and eventually hit upon college life. She was in her second semester of high school, (god I felt depraved), and she had already been accepted to Purdue for the fall semester and was anxious because she didn’t know what to expect. Her mother had studied in Europe decades earlier, and she didn’t have an older sister or brother, so I shared my college experiences with her.

This of course led to an in depth discussion on dorm room etiquette (what to do when your roommate is entertaining), and that in turn led us down the path to sex.

I lost track of how many times I refilled our drinks, but by the time the bottle of tequila was almost empty, the conversation was really getting steamy.

Margarita’s boyfriend had NEVER made her orgasm. “How about anyone else?” I asked.

“Mrs. Anderson…God….I haven’t been with anyone else,” she blushed.

“So…you’ve never had an orgasm,” I asked.

Now she really blushed. “Well, yes, I have.”

Nothing like playing stupid, right? “How?” I asked.

She shifted on the couch, with her feet underneath her, “In the tub.”

“Ohhh, ok. Yeah, I had my first one like that too.” I said.

“But trust me, you’ll be happy to expand your horizons up at school.”

She laughed and coquettishly threw her hair back. “Ms. Anderson, I don’t know what type of girl you think I am,” she said smiling.

“Margarita darling, there’s NOTHING wrong with sex. You say you’ve had orgasms, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you enjoy them?”

“God yeah.”

“Something you would like to experience again,” I asked.

“Sure, but I’m not going to sleep around, you know?”

“Well that’s good, but just wait ’till you meet someone who pulls the rug from under your feet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

From there she went on to say that she felt maybe a little inadequate…suggesting that it was her fault her boyfriend couldn’t make her cum!

“Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are. It’s just that young boys really don’t have the slightest clue as to what buttons to push.”

I then went on to share with her how my first boyfriend never EVER made me “o”. And, thankfully, the conversation became even more frank.

“How old were you Mrs. Anderson?”

“15.”

“No way!”

“Yep, and I was head over heels in love Margarita. We would make love every chance we got.”

“Wow…and you never…came?”

“No…but I swear I enjoyed it. The feeling of closeness, intimacy, of being loved.”

“So…who was the first?” she asked.

“The first what?”

“The first guy who made you have an orgasm?”

“Oh…that was Michael in college.”

“Can you tell me how it happened?”

“He made oral love to me.” I answered frankly.

“No way! That was your first time?”

“Yep. I was an innocent little freshmen and he was a sophomore. We were in his room after a party, I remember I was wearing a skirt, and he had it up around my waist and he was … kissing and licking me, and I had never felt anything like it before. I mean, yes, I had had my experiences in the tub and everything, but I started feeling something I had never felt before in my entire life….I mean, absolutely divine.”

“And I had the most powerful orgasm I have ever had in my life I think.”

“NO way!”

“Yep.”

She readjusted her feet underneath her, and I got up to serve us two more drinks.

“Well Jorge too doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s doing.” She said.

“That’s normal…that’ll change in school.”

There was a moment of silence and she bit her lip, readjusted herself again, and said, “And Mr. Anderson…does he…satisfy you?”

“Yes Margarita, he does. He’s a great lover, the best I’ve had.”

“But I thought you said the guy in college gave you the best orgasm?”

“No, I said it was the most powerful, but Mr. Anderson pushes other buttons,” I said smiling.

She squirmed a little and asked, “Like what? Can you tell me? Please?”

“Oh god, where do I start?”

“You escort bayan şişli know what Margarita, you’re not going to believe this, but sex is really as much a mental thing as it is physical. He and I start flirting from early in the day. When I’m getting dressed in the morning, he might suggest a short skirt which I know excites him.

I’ll then ask if I should go panty-less.

“Really??? Oh my god.”

“And that’s how the game starts, way before we even get to foreplay.”

When he comes home for lunch, he might try to feel me under the skirt, and I’ll playfully pull away, but it excites me…it turns me on Margarita.

While we’re watching the news and the kids are in the room he’ll start feeling me under the covers, touching my breasts and my butt, which drives me crazy. And I’ll feel him, and he’ll be hard.

She squirmed again.

Then we have to wait for the kids to go to bed and he’ll get in the shower and clean up and then I’ll shower and crawl into bed with him.

Of course, he’ll ignore me, pretending to watch TV, and the waiting gets me even more turned on.

By now Margarita’s eyes were wide open, and she was listening and watching intently.

“Look, I don’t want to corrupt you or anything, but let me just tell you, without getting into any further details, he can make me have 15 maybe 20 screaming orgasms in one night.”

“NO WAY!!!”

“Way, as you kids say.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Nope, I swear it isn’t.”

“How?”

Her cheeks were flushed, she was fidgety, and she was biting on her lower lip.

“Well, like I said, I’m not going to share my husband’s and mine private sex life, but trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Margarita excused herself to go pee, and when she came back, she said she had a great buzz going.

“Me too sweetie, me too.”

“So, how do we continue girl’s night I asked?”

“How about a movie and popcorn in the a/c?” she asked.

“Perfect. You go to my bed and get comfy and I’ll make us popcorn.”

When I returned she was already under the covers and channel surfing.

“Mrs. Anderson, can I call my mom and say I’m spending the night at Valerie’s, I don’t want her to know I’ve been drinking.”

“Well look, I don’t like you telling any lies to your mom. Why don’t I just call her and tell her I came home unexpectedly and found you asleep here, ok?”

“Perfect.”

I did just that, and after some insistence convinced Emily that Margarita wouldn’t be an inconvenience and to let her stay.

I crawled into bed with the huge bowl of popcorn and watched some movie Margarita had settled on.

Ten minutes or so into it, Margarita got up saying she had to pee and as she got out of bed and as the covers fell off her, I noticed she only had on panties and a bra.

She slipped the robe on and went to the bathroom and when she returned and got back in bed, and actually watched 10 minutes more of the movie, she determined it was boring.

Turning to me, she said, “Mrs. Anderson, this is REALLY boring, it’s going to put me right to sleep. Can we watch something else?”

“Sure…anything you want.”

“Can I ask you a HUGE favor, and you promise not to tell my mom?”

“Depends on the favor.”

“Do you have any … um, like …. Umm…” she started saying, stuttering.

“Go on Margarita, what’s on your mind? Just say it.”

“Uh…like films that could help me, uh, like understand the stuff we were talking about today?” she said completely blushing and not making eye contact at all.

I love playing stupid, “I don’t understand sweetie.”

“You know, like … uhhh…sexy movies?”

“Oh…sure I do, go pick one out, bottom drawer of the chest in my closet.”

“Really!? Great!” she almost shrieked as she jumped out of bed, forgot about the robe, and ran to make her selection.

“Which one should I get?” she yelled from the closet.

“Anyone you want sweetie.”

She practically ran back into the room and put the DVD in, and settled back into the bed.

As the usual warnings came on I was delighted to see had picked my absolute favorite. It was some adult movie actress talking about erotic toys and then showing how each of them worked with other actors and actresses. It always got me going.

The great thing is that it started out very tame, with the actress speaking about how to introduce these goodies into every day lovemaking. She was dressed decently, in a normal setting.

I glanced over at Margarita and saw that she was paying very close attention to everything the actress was saying.

About ten minutes later, after the lady had made her point, and all the models were introduced, each couple gets to pick the toy of their preference and try it out.

That’s when things started heating up on screen and on the bed.

The first couple started out with the vibrating eggs, with the girl holding the remote control. The second couple started with a g-spot stimulator, which was my personal escort bayan şişli favorite. The couple was very attractive, and I have a very sensitive g-spot, so I love that toy.

Of course, I shared this info with Margarita, who asked what a g-spot was. I described it, but said it’s difficult to find if you don’t know exactly what you’re looking for.

The third couple had a slippery, jelly like tube that surrounds a man’s cock and slips up and down his shaft. The couple was black and extremely attractive.

Of course, the movie caught each couple in different stages, eventually, each one reaching orgasm. About thirty or forty minutes later, I was as wet as can be, and Margarita was squirming all over the bed, rubbing her legs together.

The DVD ended and Margarita was breathing hard.

“Wow…that was REALLY hot.” She said, almost panting.

“Yeah, it always gets me very excited.” I said.

“Really? That’s reassuring, because I haven’t been this way…um… anyway, do you and Mr. Anderson play like that?”

“Sure we do. We love to play with toys…have you tried any?”

“NO…where would I find any here in this country?”

“Would you like to try one Margarita?”

She looked into my eyes, and in a heartbeat said, “Yes” biting her lower lip.

“Which one did you fancy?”

She giggled and said, “all of them” and then laughed.

I went to my toy chest and got all of them out and brought them to the bed.

“Gosh…were … how do I start?” she asked naively.

“For the sake of our little show and tell, why don’t you pretend you’re me and I’ll pretend I’m Mr. Anderson?” I said, throwing caution to the wind.

“OK!”

I asked her to move to my side of the bed and lay on her stomach, and I got things ready on my hubby’s side.

I lit some candles, shut the lights off, got some oil, warmed it in my palms, and applied it to her upper back and shoulders, working my way around the bra.

She purred gracefully.

I got a little more oil, and applied it to her lower back while I admired that firm little panty covered butt of hers, and longed for my teenage years.

I then started on her thighs and calves, and when I was done with both legs, I got my trustee massager and started at her shoulders, upper back and neck.

“Umm…that feels great Mrs. Anderson.”

I worked my way slowly downward and when I got to the clasp of her bra, she reached back and unclasped it. I worked the oil in with the massager, and she was again purring like a kitten.

I started descending again, reaching all the way to the boundary where her back ended and her cotton panties started, and then ran the vibrating massager over each firm butt cheek, then down the leg all the way to her feet and back up. But when I reached the upper thigh, I placed the massager on the inside of her thighs, and she opened herself up to let me in.

I got very close to the junction of her legs, but decided to tease her a little, taking the massager back up over her butt, over her back and shoulders, and down again. This time however, I wanted to see how she would respond, so, as the massager vibrated slowly down her butt, it found its way to the middle, and worked its way all the way down…and as she opened her legs further, it was able to vibrate through the panties to her nether lips, and she immediately lifted her butt so the vibrator could find its way further forward, but it didn’t happen.

I continued doing this for several minutes, extending the length of time the massager vibrated on her lips more and more on each trip. Margarita was through being delicate and ladylike…each time the massager went to her lips she would lift herself off the bed and push herself backwards onto it.

I decided I was done with the backside, and asked her to turn over, which she did, a little self-consciously. I started with the massager on her shoulders and worked my way to the top of the unclasped bra, massaging the tops of her smallish breasts, then running the massager lightly on top of the fabric covered areola, then on the underside of the breasts, down to her flat tummy, circled the picture perfect belly button, then down to that border between cotton panty and tummy.

I ran the vibrator very lightly over her mound, which got a gasp out of her, then down the thighs, calves, feet, then up again, this time on the inside of the thigh, over the mound, then down and up the other leg, but this time I let the massager focus its vibrations on her left lip, then up to her clitty, then down the right lip all the way down to her butt (as she spread herself even more).

As the massager came back up, I pressed it a little bit firmer on her lips and cunny, and she lifted herself off the bed to increase the contact. I was happy to see that there was a growing damp spot.

I decided it was time to increase the heat a notch and concentrate just on her clit and lips for a while, and she loved it. Breathing harder, thrusting her hips, clawing the sheets, and finally, taking her breasts into her hands.

She was a sight to see.

As she was getting more and more turned on, I decided it was now or never, and I switched off the massager.

She practically cried.

Breathing very hard, she pleaded, “Mrs. Anderson, (deep breaths), why, why did you stop?”

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I could see myself reflected in the golden elevator doors and I smirked at myself. Behind me, I could see the expensive marble floor, the impressive (if a little gauche) Corinthian columns, and the gilded trim that was stretched around the perimeter of the lobby. Everything, including me, had a slightly gold-metallic tinge from the reflection, giving everything the impression of being made of money. I really couldn’t help but sneer at myself; I looked so perfect from that perspective; like I belonged.

What I mean by that is that I looked like money, like self-consciously ostentatious cash. I looked like the sort of vulgar power, elegance, and sophistication that this place was trying to cultivate. That the men who lived here wanted to associate themselves with. I was wearing my most expensive pair of black, five-inch stiletto heels that ran a couple of inches up my calves. Those calves were quite shapely (a favorite feature) and, while they looked bronze in the reflection of the elevator, were actually the sort of sophisticated pale white that I cultivated all over my body. Tans are nice for some people, I guess. But tans turns to wrinkles and can be uneven. Soft, creamy white skin lasts longer and has a timeless appeal. And it fit perfectly now, in the dead of a New York winter.

Above calves were several inches of exposed skin. Despite the cold, I was wearing a rather short (but by no means slutty) dress that fell a few inches above my thin knees. The dress itself was a simple, dark blue affair that hugged my figure like a second skin. To that end, it tapered out as it ran up my thighs and then flared widely at my hips. I could not see it, but I knew that my most commented-upon feature, my large, round, but toned, ass was rising like a helium balloon behind my back. From my hips, the dress narrowed down to my narrow waist. I spent a good deal of time keeping this particular feature fit and trim, making sure that the sudden contraction from my hips to my waist was particularly dramatic. From the narrowest part of my waist, the dress tapered back up to my chest.

This dress was selected, in part, because of the way in which it accentuated my breasts. It fit so tightly and held me up firmly. Further it had a low, swooping round neck. A couple of inches of cleavage were exposed from my C-cup breasts and the full round shape of them was clearly visible. Between my breasts was the large pendant of a gold necklace, some sort of precious stone polished to a perfect shine. My breasts were not quite as wide as my hips, giving me a slightly off-balanced hourglass look. My shoulders were covered by my coat (a thick, fur item that fit the false-elegant theme), but it was possible to see the short sleeves of the dress. I knew that deep in the sleeves of my coat were my narrow, delicate arms and long, thin fingers. There were expensive bracelets and rings and on my hand (not too many, just the right amount to be a little trashy).

Regardless, growing up out of the top of the dress was my long, elegant throat. My oval face was rested above that perch. I had a strong, but feminine chin sitting below thick, deep red lips. I knew that beneath those wide lips were perfectly straight, white teeth, but they weren’t visible through my smirk. I had a small, slightly upturned pixie nose and wide, desperately gray eyes. My ears were quite small and large earrings hung from them. I knew that my face had a somewhat severe, icy beauty that made me look intelligent and intimidating. My hair was silky, full and impossibly black. It hung down loose halfway across my back and laid slightly across my eyes, giving me a mischievous air. The whole package was around 5’3 tall (not counting the heels) and a little over a hundred pounds (I’ll never tell exactly how little).

I suppose that the only thing that threw off the vision was that, over my right shoulder and in the distance, I could see the doorman behind his small desk. He was looking at me, ill-concealed disgust on his face. It was roughly the same look that the driver who had picked me up and was waiting outside for me had provided when he opened the door and let me in. I guess they knew why I was there.

My beautifully maintained body split in half and I looked into the elevator. I looked briefly over my shoulder at the doorman. I slipped my long red tongue out from between my lips. I ran it along the thick length of my lips and winked at the doorman. He looked slightly flustered and turned away. But I didn’t pay attention to what he did next. I turned back to the elevator and stepped inside.

Well, fuck the doorman. But he was right. He knew what I was doing here (had seen me here many times, in fact) and apparently didn’t approve of it. That was fine by me. A callgirl can’t afford thin skin. And at the age of 25, I was more than a veteran at this and barely even thought of the moral aspects of my work anymore.

Hell, I guess I’ve never really thought about the moral aspect of my work. I started this when I was güngören escort bayan 18 years old, fresh out of high school. I had absolutely no interest in college or the military or a job of any kind. My family never really gave two shits what I did. They had important lives (or so they thought) and didn’t really have any time for me when I was growing up. They’d pissed away the money they’d inherited from my grandmother and weren’t really interested in bankrolling me while I lived the same kind of pointless lives that they lived. But I knew I liked nice things, I wanted money, I was sexy and I liked fucking. Day after graduation, I put up an ad on Craiglist and the rest was history.

Some girls like to mythologize their first time, to build it up into some sort of terrible, horrible, wonderful event. I can remember talking to some of them. They’d cry. They’d describe every little detail. They would talk about the way it made them feel. It was like a made-for-TV movie. Lifetime: I was a Craigslist call girl. That wasn’t my style. I had fucked before my first time getting paid. There were only two differences between normal sex and callgirl sex: I had to pretend it was good even when it was shit and I got paid. A little acting was well worth the paycheck. Guys would pay a premium for a young girl, right out of high school. I’d wear my brother’s letter jacket when I gave a blowjob. Johns got a real kick out of it.

I didn’t stay on Craiglist long. That was only a half-step up from being a junkie on the street in my opinion. I guess it was other girls who helped me out. You get numbers and contact information from a girl you got to know (in one way or another) when she couldn’t work. You call or text a guy and say, “I am Mary’s friend, she said we’d get along. How’d you like to go on a date?” He’d know what that meant and set something up. Eventually, I got together what I called my “stable.” A collection of stalwart regulars who always paid, didn’t hit, and I knew were clean (both in terms of disease and legal trouble). Sometimes a new guy would slip in for a date, but I relied on my regulars.

And date is the correct term, I truly believe that. I was young, I was good looking, and I created the illusion of class that sophisticated Johns wanted. Glamor, I guess would be the most accurate word. And the guys expected it to kind of be like a date. It wasn’t like Craiglist stuff and it wasn’t like what I heard about street girls. This wasn’t some 15-minute thing where I didn’t have to pretend that I cared, just let a guy lay into me. They paid enough to deserve my interest and my charm. I dressed up nice, I smiled broadly, I laughed at the jokes. For a lot of guys, this was the major appeal. Most of them weren’t exactly good-looking guys (not that I cared, do you care if your boss is good-looking?) and they wanted people to look at me fawning over him and think “what is that guys deal? He must be rich or interesting or something.” The fact that he got to fuck me, for some guys, was secondary. Though, I think they all liked that they could fuck me whenever they wanted to. The sureness of the sure thing with a hot young girl was more important than the thing, if you catch my meaning.

So it was a little bit of acting on my part, pretending like I was truly enamored with whatever guy I was with that night (or that part of the night, I sometimes had two or even three dates in a night). But the payoff was great. I don’t just mean the money (though that was excellent). I got more out of it than that. No, not fulfillment, don’t think that I am getting sentimental about this. I got gifts (Johns loved to give an expensive gift in public. More Johns thought they were Richard Gere than hookers thought they were Julia Roberts), I went to all of the best restaurants, the most exclusive clubs, I had the best drugs.

Although, on that last point, I always tried to be careful. Look, anyone who doesn’t get out of the business eventually ends up a streetwalker. That is the nature of the business. If you suck dick until you’re 50, no one wants to pay real money for you and if you want to keep doing it, you have to do it on the streets. Unless you got some gimmick. I understood that, I knew I couldn’t do it forever. But I also knew that the fastest way to the bottom of the rung was drugs. Heroin was especially bad in the circles I ran in, but I knew from stories about girls with meth or crack problems too.

Certain girls aren’t cut out for this business. They need to make themselves numb to do what they need to do. I get it. I needed to be numb too, but I was able to do it organically. To divorce myself from my feelings internally. Some girls needed heroin. I guess that meth made some girls super horny, into any kind of thing the John got into. That made it possible for them to keep working. I stayed away from that stuff, I knew that if you start doing drugs just so you can do your job, pretty soon you are doing your job just so you can get the drugs. So şişli escort bayan I never got too hard into anything. A little coke every once in a while, pills other times. Never enough to really form a habit. Though I admit, by 25 sometimes I need a little bump before I hit the circuit for the night. When I was walking into the elevator, I still had a little bit of a buzz going.

I guess I had been a little tired that night, before I had gotten myself all coifed and ready. I wasn’t really thinking about it consciously, but I guess I knew I was getting a little long in the tooth for this life. At 25, most of the girls I came up with were out of the life, strung out, in jail, or dead. Not many girls kept their looks and their interest as long as I did.

Some of it, I guess, was that I didn’t mind the job that much. I mean my 18-year-old thought that I liked fucking, so why not get paid for it had long since faded. I didn’t really know if I liked fucking anymore. I didn’t hate it for sure. But it was just a job. I didn’t get involved in the whole morality thing. I never really gave a shit about whether I was doing something fulfilling. Most jobs aren’t. But most jobs also pay shit. And I guess that was the real reason I was still doing this. The reason that I spent a lot of hours (and a lot of money) every week at gyms and salons and boutiques was because it was an investment in the business of my body. And that business was still paying out handsomely. I was a skilled worker, I demanded top-flight payment.

More for some Johns that for others. That was why, despite my fatigue, I had agreed to come here to this swanky apartment at the last minute. This was one of my regulars and he happened to pay exceptionally well. Mostly because, unlike most of the Johns who just thought they were into weird stuff (“can I get…a footjob”) this guy really was into some freaky shit.

Despite that, I had almost been hoping he would call. I needed the money. I had been putting some cash aside since I first started and I had a pretty good war chest now. I lived frugally and I got men to buy my meals. But lately, I don’t know, I had been spending a little more money than I intended on coke. On pills. I didn’t really know why. I wasn’t really thinking about it. Just one of those things, I guess. I hadn’t dipped into the savings but I wasn’t putting anything away. Tonight was a chance to ensure the coffers remained filled.

The elevator opened near the top floor (not the penthouse, my John wasn’t that successful. Yet). As I stepped through the door in the short, overly-sumptuous hallway, I felt my head sort slip into the right place. It wasn’t even a conscious thing anymore, I wasn’t acting. I was just entering into the role. My shoes clicked a little more forcefully on the floor, my legs extended a little more suggestively, my hips swung like a pendulm side-to side as I walked. I arched my back slightly to push my breasts out high and thrust my ass back. My lips curled back slightly into a seductive hint of a smile as my shadowed eye-lids drooped slightly, giving me a bed-time look. I could hear my voice, but I could hear my throat relaxing, knew that my voice would come out in a rich, honeyed tone. I was the dream now, and I was ready to give my John what he wanted.

I made my way to his door. I reached up to knock and, as it always did, the door opened up before my knuckles could touch the white-painted wood. The door swung wide and the light from the apartment filtered out over me. I could feel his apartment, a few degrees warmer than hallway and almost hot by comparison to the frigid temperatures outside. I stepped inside like I owned the place.

“Good evening Skye,” the familiar voice of my John said as I entered his home. I didn’t even look at him, I knew right where he was standing and, with eyes closed, I turned and kissed his cheek. Then I spun around in front of him, throwing my arms backwards. I felt his hands reach up and grab my gaudy fur coat and slip it from my bare arms.

“Daniel, I am so happy you called. I was waiting at home, wondering if you would,” I said, not exactly lying. Once my coat was off and hung on the peg behind the door, I turned and looked at my John.

Daniel was a middle-aged man with a wife and children out in the suburbs. He was balding, had a fleshy face with small eyes, a bit of a paunch, but somehow no ass. He was quite wealthy (though not as fabulously wealthy as he wished he was. Trust me, I hear about a lot of people’s shattered dreams) and he owned an apartment in the city for nights when he had to “work late.” I don’t know if his wife bought that line or if she was just happy he was out of her hair and not clawing at her for a night. Anyone who saw him knew that he wasn’t much to look at. Anyone who fucked him knew he was worthless in bed. But he always got the money into my coat pocket before I left. I never even bothered to check until I got home, I knew he would pay. And well.

“I am sure esenler escort bayan you were,” he said, both pretending not to believe my line but also obviously tickled by it. I smiled at him and he reached up and handed me a glass of white wine. I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying it. I giggled like a younger girl and took it.

“Oh! What a nice little surprise,” I said, taking a deep sip, “Are you trying to get me drunk before we even go out?” I asked, “Daniel, are you trying to take advantage of me?” I asked. He laughed at my little joke and began to walk down the hallway toward his living room.

“Nothing of the sort Skye, I know the kind of girl you are,” he said, “I was just thinking that a change of pace might be nice for tonight.” As I started to follow Daniel down the hallway I noticed for the first time that Daniel was by no means dressed to go out. He was wearing a robe and nothing more, from what I could tell. I was quite surprised.

My regulars (and there were a considerable number of them at that time) were my regulars, in part, because they had routines. I knew what they all liked. Some guys wanted me to come in and beg them to fuck me, only to have them take me out all night and “tease” me before taking me home. Some guys wanted me to play hard to get…Every. Single. Time. So that they could enjoy the conquest. One guy like to run me a bath and wash my hair while another liked to shave my pussy (he was quite good at it, saved me a good deal of money on grooming).

Daniel was very simple. He liked, what I called (to myself if no one else) the “Dream Date” package where we went out for a nice dinner, chatted in a witty sort of way, started up in the cab on the way home, and had sex on the floor of his apartment. This is what he had always done, since my first time with him five years earlier. The actual sex would be different (whatever kink he had on his mind that night) but the dance to get there was always the same.

“Did you want to stay in tonight baby?” I asked, making sure my voice sounded like I was totally up for whatever he wanted. I never tried to make a John feel like I was judging him about anything. First of all, it was bad for business. Second of all, how could I?

“In a manner of speaking,” he said cryptically. He made his way through the small hallway near the door and then turned left at the end, entering the open floor-plan kitchen that overlooked the living room and dining room area. I quickly followed after him, wondering what he was thinking. It always made me nervous when a John acted “different.” Sometimes it meant things would get violent. My mace was in my coat pocket, I trusted Daniel so I had left it by the door.

“Just tell me what you want honey. I am open to whatever you wa…” I said, but the ‘pliable partner’ routine that Daniel loved so much died on my lips as I stepped into the kitchen. Standing on the expensive tile floor, bent over against the counter with elbows on the table and ass sticking out, was a third party unknown to me. And not just any third party. It was a hooker.

As should be clear, I am not a hooker. I don’t walk the streets and I don’t give blowjobs in alleys (for less than $500.00). But I was in the same business generally and I could smell a streetwalker a mile away. This girl (and she was definitely 18-years old) was a streetwalker.

That is not to say that she looked burnt out or high or battered or anything else. I mean, those were common streetwalker afflictions, but she didn’t have that problem. In fact, she looked remarkably fresh-faced. But I could tell anyway. Part of it, of course, was the uniform. The girl was around 5’1 and probably 105 pounds. She was wearing knee-high, red patent leather boots that clung tightly to her taut thighs. The heels of the boots were so high and her feet so small that porn star platforms were required. Her thighs were thin and toned, I was sure she had that thigh gap everyone was raving about for a while. Her skin was about as pale as mine, but it was hard to see her because of her black fishnet stockings running down into her boots. Her ass was, as I said, sticking back out away from the kitchen counter. It was squeezed into an exceptionally tight red skirt. It looked almost as full and round as mine. There was a gap in her clothing above her wide hips and I could see the way her body narrowed down to her waist. She had a flat stomach with a sparkly bellybutton ring. She was wearing a black halter top that looked more like a bandana wrapped around her large, incredibly perky breasts. Perhaps she had not warmed up from being outside, because her hardened nipples were easily visible through the flimsy material. She had long, thin arms and small hands. She had a very delicate neck and narrow shoulders.

Her face…was shockingly beautiful for a street walker. She had a small, but well-proportioned chin, a plump (but somewhat narrow) mouth painted a deep pink color. She had a narrow, somewhat long nose with a small cubic zirconia stud in it. Most strikingly she had massive blue eyes that screamed innocence and allure at the same time. Perfect hooker eyes. Her hair was a somewhat messy tumble of long blonde locks. The messy look worked for her though, making her looking seductive rather than disheveled.

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

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

I want to thank Sun_sea_sky for doing a great job at editing this story. It really helped to make it a much better story.

—————————————–

In the school PTA room, Christine reflected upon the last seven years of her daughter’s time at her elementary school. It was getting close to the end of the school year and her involvement was almost at an end. She couldn’t believe how much her daughter had changed from that little girl of five, to a twelve year old. This year in particular had been a challenge, as her budding beauty had started to be noticed by the boys in her class. There had been many long talks about it.

Her daughter, of course, knew that Christine was a lesbian. Although Christine kept it publicly low key, there were no secrets at home. Christine had always been open about the women she was dating, even as she followed the sensible guideline of keeping her girlfriends out of her home life, until it was quite clear that it was something serious. She didn’t want her daughter to be hurt as relationships that were just casual faded away. Even then, there were only two lovers that had gotten past that point, to where Christine was comfortable in introducing her daughter to them. When those relationships ended, they just reinforced Christine’s caution. It made it harder for the other women, for her daughter, and then of course her.

Just as this year had been different for her daughter, it had been unique for Christine. Her affair with Kara caught Christine by surprise. She hadn’t been looking for a relationship, let alone one with a married woman. Once it began, however, there seemed to be no stopping it. Now it had been going on for eight months. She had never been one to juggle multiple relationships, so once it became clear that this wasn’t just a passing fancy, she had completely stopped dating other women. That was a more dramatic change than what she expected. She only wanted to be with Kara, but without the ability to be truly together, it left her feeling more isolated than she had ever been before.

It hadn’t taken that long for her daughter to figure out what was going on. Sierra was a bright girl who knew her mother’s habits. She noticed when Christine’s dating trailed off. At the same time, she was spending much more time with Kara. She could hear how they talked on the phone; saw them when they were together. There was a happiness about her mother that she had only seen those few times when Christine was starting to fall in love.

Christine finally realized that Sierra knew when they were having one of their talks about boys after the New Year. They were talking about the difference between liking someone and loving someone. Christine had been struggling to put it into words that her daughter understood.

“Love is much more. When you are in love, you do things to make it work even when they are hard. But when you are in love, you don’t care or even notice.”

Then Sierra looked at her and asked, “Like how you feel about Kara?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Christine sighed just a little. “Yes, Pumpkin,” she said and then hugged her. “It’s just like that. I know there aren’t supposed to be any secrets between us but this is one that I keep secret from almost everyone. I’ve only told your Aunt. And you can’t tell anyone. It would hurt Kara. But I’m glad I have you to talk to about it.”

Christine hugged her daughter again.

“I am too, Mom,” Sierra replied. “I don’t really understand though. How can you love Kara when she is married?”

“Ah Pumpkin, that is the million dollar question. I’ve asked it myself a hundred times. Your Aunt thinks I am crazy. I didn’t mean it to happen. You remember when we were talking about liking boys and how sometimes you think about wanting to kiss them?” Her daughter turned a little red as she nodded.

“Sometimes, especially when you get a little older, like turns into something a little stronger but still not love. When I met Kara, that is what happened between us. Neither one of us meant it to happen but it did, even though it wasn’t wise and wasn’t really right. I told you that feeling was a little scary because you do things that maybe you shouldn’t. But we didn’t stop. And we really liked each other. And now it’s more than that. But I still don’t know what it means, Pumpkin. I know you don’t believe it, but sometimes your mom is confused about stuff too!”

Sierra hesitated for a moment. Finally she asked, “Does Kara love you too?”

Christine felt her eyes tear up just a little. “I think so. She says so. Pumpkin, the hardest thing about love is that it makes you open. You can’t even know for sure how the other person feels. You have to trust. And when you are young, trusting is easy because you haven’t had your heart broken. Experience will teach you that sometimes things aren’t the way you think. But when you are really in love, even though you know about the possibility of being hurt, you take the risk.”

Her daughter solemnly merter escort contemplated what Christine had said. With a very small voice, she asked “Is Kara going to come live with us?”

The tears started to slowly roll down Christine’s cheek. “No, Pumpkin, I don’t think so. I wish …” Christine trailed off. Finally she said simply, “I don’t know what will happen. For now, it’s enough for both of us.”

Sierra gave her a big hug. “Love is funny, Mom. It can make you happy and sad all at the same time. But I’m glad we can talk about it. And I won’t tell anyone.”

There was a little hitch in her voice as she said that and Christine looked at her before saying, “Yes, Pumpkin?”

“Will you tell Kara that I know? And if so, is it okay for me to talk to her to about it? It’s fine if the answers are ‘no’.”

Christine chuckled and nodded, “I think so. No secrets between Kara and me either. And I’ll ask her about the two of you talking, okay?”

Her daughter nodded and jumped down from the couch to go and grab a bite to eat. Christine smiled as she watched. As always she was amazed at how quickly she could move from one thing to another.

~ ~ ~

Almost six months had passed since then, and still the affair went on. They managed to get together as often as they could. Kara had found it a bit of a relief that Sierra knew. Clearly she couldn’t tell her own son, but there was really no one else with whom she was close enough to share the situation. It helped her to not have to hide it with Christine’s daughter. She was very sweet and it didn’t take long for Kara to care for her almost as much as she did her own son. Over time Sierra became a co-conspirator with Kara and Christine. She was quite responsible for her age and she would babysit for Kara when she needed to spend some time with Christine.

For Kara, the school year had become a contradictory combination of peaks and valleys. Although her son remained the most important priority in her life, Christine wasn’t far behind. The doubts and worries that plagued Christine were invisible to Kara. Christine was her confident lover who knew Kara as no one had ever known before. Whether it was introducing Kara to a new cultural experience or exciting her to new heights, Christine was expanding Kara’s world. The time they spent together was the best that she could remember of her life.

But it was coming at a cost. At home, the burgeoning emotional disconnect that had been starting between Kara and her husband, before she met Christine, had grown into a gulf. His indifference to her needs and feelings stood in stark contrast to Christine. For many months, he was oblivious to Kara’s withdrawal from the relationship. When he finally woke up and realized that for all intents and purposes they were living two separate lives in the same house, there seemed like nothing he could do to fix the situation. His attempts seemed weak to Kara, and generally served to irritate her more than anything else. To her, they felt like half-hearted attempts spurred more from fear of the marriage breaking up than caring about her. Beyond that, they seemed selfish because they were more about his feelings than hers.

The tension with her husband fed upon itself. Arguments flared up more and more. It seemed to Kara like he was always doing something to piss her off. By this point, she wasn’t giving him much leeway. Even innocent comments were often taken the wrong way and resulted in her snapping at him. Once that happened his own temper and hurt feelings led him to snap back, escalating the situation. More than once, he found himself screaming at her back as she retreated into the bedroom to cry. In the past, their fights usually had been brief and ended up in tender reconciliation. The first time he made the mistake of assuming that an apology combined with a hug and a kiss would lead first to forgiveness, and then sex, was his last. Kara’s cold fury at him drove him out of the bedroom more confused than ever. It was two weeks before she allowed him to touch her and three weeks before she kissed him again.

It was over a month before they had sex again … once. Even though she was still unhappy with him, Kara felt that avoiding sex wasn’t fair to him. But when they did it, Kara found it completely unsatisfying. Nothing he did turned her on. He seemed clumsy and unable to understand what she might want. The feelings between them were by now so raw that every little faux pas just piled on to leave her cold. It was clear to him that she wasn’t excited. He was so horny that he still couldn’t help himself from hurrying to enter her even though she wasn’t ready. The result was a painful experience, where Kara just lay there placidly as he fucked her. In the end, her lack of passion transmitted itself to him and he found himself losing his erection. The state of the relationship could be seen in how Kara didn’t even try to ease his bruised feelings. She just turned over and went to sleep.

Of course, escort şişli without knowing it, he was being found wanting in comparison to Christine. His worries about their relationship led to him being uncertain and tentative in bed. Christine was the exact opposite. She was demanding in lovemaking in the best sort of way. She could be tender and caring too, with what pleased Kara. She was always in control, always confident. When she wanted Kara, she let her know in many different, often surprising ways. The normal rule was for Kara to be in a skirt or dress without panties when they were together. Christine didn’t want something getting in her way.

Once, Kara was over while the kids were at school. She was admiring one of the paintings that Christine had in her house. Christine came out of the bathroom to see Kara standing there. There was something extremely sexy about the way she was standing. One leg was bent slightly, causing her hip to tilt. Christine felt a wave of lust and walked over behind Kara who was intent enough that she didn’t hear Christine’s approach. She first realized it when she felt Christine starting to firmly but carefully push her up against the wall. Christine’s hand dropped down to pull up Kara’s skirt and expose her ass. Kara was taken completely by surprise but felt her own surge of lust. Without consciously thinking about it, she spread her legs and stuck out her ass.

Christine’s body pressed up against Kara’s. Her mouth was beside Kara’s ear. Kara shuddered when she heard Christine’s confident and sexy voice say, “I wonder how wet my baby is. I bet she is already dripping for me.”

Kara felt Christine’s hand slide down over her ass and then between her legs. She rocked her hips back to give Christine better access. Christine instantly took advantage of it. She ran a finger up along Kara’s slit, starting at the bottom.

“Oh, so nice and wet. Baby, you must be horny … again,” Christine chuckled as she spoke. Not being ready was never a problem for Kara with Christine. Just being in the same room as her was enough to make Kara’s pussy grow moist.

“I am, darling. You always make me horny,” replied Kara. She pressed backwards to try and get Christine’s fingers to enter her. “Fuck me! Fuck your horny baby!” She was rewarded as she felt Christine firmly press two fingers into her pussy. Once her fingers were in as deep as they could go, she started to pump them in and out of Kara. Each thrust pushed her up against the wall. Kara turned her head so that she could look at Christine. Soon that was impossible as her eyes closed in anticipation. The pounding that Christine was giving her was having the expected result. Kara was moaning with each thrust. “Fuck me, darling! Fuck me hard!” she cried out.

Christine could feel the tension building in Kara’s body. Sometimes she liked to tease her and make Kara wait and beg for release. Not today. Christine was feeling horny herself and the sooner that Kara came, the sooner that she could get her own relief. She quickened the pace. Kara’s juices were flowing down and covering her hand. The smell was powerful and filling Christine’s senses. Suddenly Kara paused for a moment. With an exclamation of “Oh my God!” she began to shake. Christine thrust hard in and out of Kara. Her other hand went around Kara to help support her. Even in this moment of lust, Christine was making sure that she took care of Kara.

Kara felt Christine’s body press against her as she came. The contact heightened the excitement that was coursing through her body. Just like Christine was thrusting her fingers, Kara was rocking her hips hard back to meet the thrusts. “Oh yes, Christine! God, fuck me!” Kara exclaimed.

“I’m fucking you, baby. I’m making you cum,” Christine hissed in Kara’s ear. “You are such a horny little slut for me, baby!” She lightly bit on Kara’s ear and tugged. She could feel the pressure on her fingers as Kara’s pussy spasmed repeatedly.

As her orgasm slowly faded, Kara turned her head and kissed Christine. Their tongues swirled around one another. It seemed like Kara’s eyes were on fire as she looked at her lover. As the kiss broke, she spoke. “I love it when you take me whenever you want, Christine. You make me feel so desirable.”

Christine reached up her hand into Kara’s hair. For a moment, she stroked it. “You are unbelievably desirable, Kara. You excite me whenever I look at you.” Then her fingers tightened. She started to pull down while her other hand pressed down on Kara’s shoulder. “Like right now, baby. You have me so very excited that you need to lick my pussy!”

Christine pressed and pulled Kara down onto her knees. Christine’s pulling her hair hurt just a little but rather than turning her off, there was something about it that was stirring. It was a combination of Christine being in control and Kara accepting her place in their relationship. While this was one of the few times that involved pain, it was clear that Christine was dominant. Accepting esenler escort just a little pain seemed to Kara like almost a badge of honor, demonstrating her devotion. Plus, knowing how much Christine desired her gave her a feeling of security in the relationship.

When Kara was on her knees, Christine moved around in front of her. Leaning up against the wall, she put her hands behind Kara’s head and pulled her into her pussy. Kara went in eagerly. By now she was a skillful pussy-eater. Her tongue flicked out to stroke Christine’s lips. She let out a little “mmmmm” sound as she got her initial taste of Christine’s moisture. Her tongue flicked up and down along Christine’s slit, each time pushing in a little more. Soon she had her tongue deep into Christine’s cleft. Kara could feel the pressure against her face as Christine ground her hips against her. Her own hands went behind Christine to grasp her ass and pull her closer.

Her tongue now was at high speed, sliding all around Christine’s clitty. It was clearly having the desired effect as Christine was thrusting her hips against Kara’s face. For her part, Kara loved the tangy, slightly metallic taste and enthusiastically slurped down Christine’s pussy juices. To get more, Kara would slide her tongue down to push it deep into Christine. Once inside, she would swirl it around, all the while sucking to get more. Then she slid it back out and once again was running it against Christine’s clit.

Christine was finding it hard to get enough air. She was going beyond panting. She was starting to gasp for breath. She was coming close, and was distracted enough to not realize that she still had ahold of Kara’s hair and was pulling harder.

With an exclamation of “Oh, oh, oh,” Christine started to cum. One hand released Kara’s hair and grasped her shoulder instead to hold on. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck, that’s it baby!” Her legs were getting weak and it was a good thing that she was leaning against the wall. She could feel each stroke of Kara’s tongue further heighten her excitement. It was hard for Kara to keep licking but she was quite determined. She loved pleasing Christine.

As Christine finally stopped cumming, she felt as weak as kitten. She needed to hold onto Kara for support and to keep from falling. After a moment, she opened her eyes to see Kara looking up at her with a very satisfied look on her face as her tongue carefully licked around her lips. Christine reached up to gently stroke Kara’s face.

Turning her face, Kara kissed Christine’s hand. It was a moment when their love shone through and one after another, they both whispered the words.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, darling.”

Saying it out loud was something that both of them shied away from. Doing it raised questions in both of their minds that they preferred to ignore. But every once in a while, it couldn’t be helped. They had to reaffirm it.

Now, as the school year was ending, Christine was finding it hard to continue to ignore those questions. The relationship was at the same time the best thing and the worst thing to ever happen to her. She couldn’t help being head over heels in love with Kara. Not only was she a sweet and smart woman, but they seemed perfectly matched. At the same time, it was frustrating for Christine to have to hide the relationship. The only time they could be completely open was when they were at home. If they went out, they both had to remember to keep up the fiction that they were just friends.

Beyond that issue, it was even more frustrating, in that Christine had no idea where the relationship was going. Although it hadn’t been her intention, at one point in April it had boiled over for her. They were having dinner together and she had two glasses of wine, which was unusual. It loosened her tongue and she found herself saying wistfully that she wished Kara would leave her husband and be with her. Kara’s face froze and she didn’t say a word in response.

Christine started to try and say something to pull back but found it impossible. She couldn’t say she didn’t mean it, when it was in fact true. No matter what she said, it only seemed to make the matter worse.

Finally in a strangled voice, Kara stopped any further discussion by saying, “Christine, I can’t … I can’t even think about that.” She got up and kissed Christine softly but then said that she had to go home. It was the first night since they started the affair that Christine had gone to bed crying. It wasn’t the last.

It was, however, the last time that Christine ever brought the subject up. She hadn’t heard from Kara for several days after that night. When they finally got together again, there was a subdued undertone that took a week to completely disappear.

Still it was wearing on Christine. Even though the relationship between Kara and her husband was deteriorating, they still had a common social life that they maintained. Kara was not free to spend as much time as either she or Christine would like together, especially outside school hours. At the same time, without Kara, Christine often found it hard to be motivated to get out on her own and do things. What made it especially hard for Christine was feeling less in control of her life than ever before.

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