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The restaurant at shadow lane

Posted by clearly 4 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM  |  Views: 441  |  
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The Caning at the Cafe du Concorde.

The Caning at the Cafe du Concorde.

On the face of it, to any casual or uninformed observer, the Cafe du Concorde may have appeared an unlikely location to act as a setting for the public disgrace and punishment of Yvette Marie-Louise Renard. The cafe in its snug location on the eponymous main square of the idyllic little village of Pont du Rochelles showed nothing at first glance to suggest that it was anything else other than the sort of pleasant and friendly little rural establishment whose twin could be found in any village in France. The drivers whose navigational facilities had so seriously let them down as to find themselves, by chance, happening upon this rustic backwater of the Provence would have noted the charming little whitewashed building on the corner of the Place du Concorde with its flower boxes on its upstairs windows and the vine interwoven trellis that served as awnings over the front door and large window front which, in daylight at least, concealed the interior of the cafe behind an obfus**ting barrier of the kind of smoky brown glass which seems characteristic of the fenestration of rural French cafes, stained brown by generations of customers who considered it their birthright to fill the cafe with clouds of foul smelling tobacco fumes as the price of their patronage. The visitor on a hot day might well have been tempted to linger awhile in the shade of the umbrellas covering the handful of little iron round tables on the flagstones in front of the cafe and perhaps enjoyed a carafe of chilled Rose wine, made from the g**** variety Mourvedre for which the region was renowned, whilst taking in the peaceful scenery of the little square with its stone fountain, wooden benches and fig trees and observing the unhurried, bucolic life of the local community as they went about their daily business. There was nothing in that halcyon image to suggest that this was anything other than the sort of place where nothing very much ever happened at all. But appearances can be deceptive. Had our theoretical observer been possessed of keen perception he might have noticed a few factors that didn’t quite match this sl**py rural image.
Had he been warm bl**ded and possessed an eye for a shapely turn of leg or bewitching smile he would have needed little of his perceptive abilities to remark upon the young waitress who delivered his carafe to his table. The four young ladies who served in that capacity at the Cafe du Concorde were all personable and attractive. That in itself was not unusual. Pretty girls were as common as the bees among the honeysuckle in the tiny gardens of the village in France; as ubiquitous as the little Wall Lizards on the dry stone walls around the vineyards and, if the young ladies at the Cafe du Concorde were apt to be flirtatious with any customer obviously possessed of XY chromosomes and not yet entirely geriatric, then they were French after all and only doing that which came naturally to them. What might have raised our observer’s eyebrows was the uniform that all four girls affected and which was presumably the obligatory costume to be worn whilst on duty. They all wore the traditional black French maids’ dresses trimmed with white and matched with white pinafores that the tourist to France inevitably fantasises about encountering but, much to his chagrin, rarely does. The skirts were ridiculously short and there was the frill of lacy petticoat peeping beyond the hem. If one of the young ladies obligingly bent over to wipe and clear a table our observer might well have been treated to a sublime vision of endless, becoming thigh, clad in dark stockings held in place by silly flirtatious garters, and perhaps even a glimpse of lacy white knickers clinging to an admirably shaped derriere. Were he able to regard the vision dispassionately he might well have concluded that, whoever the proprietor of this cafe was, then they were a person of acute business sense and well aware that the fine vintages of Chateau de l’Escarelle were not the only lure to draw custom within the walls of their establishment.
If our hypothetical observer might now have perchance to wipe his brow and tear his eyes away from the delightful young serving girls and cast his eye over the other occupants of the cafe and square he might have observed some other anomalies. It is certainly true that sitting at the tables in front of the cafe were the obligatory contingent of grizzled veterans and elderly farmers nursing glasses of watered down Pernod. But that was not the whole story. There was a slightly Bohemian feel to the village of Pont du Rochelles; a feeling in large part that could be attributed to the small but colourful community of struggling artists who were more or less permanent residents in the building on the far side of the square which gloried under the name of Hotel du Ville; a somewhat grandiose title which betrayed the building’s aspirations above its station as a rather dilapidated rural guest house. This bright and generally young sector of the community could normally be found scouring the surrounding countryside by day with brush and canvas and, by evening, forming small excited groups around the tables in the Cafe du Concorde, squandering their dwindling funds and despairing to their colleagues of ever being quite able to capture the luminosity of the Provence sunshine among the olive groves.
Standing out in even more startling contrast than this fringe community of artists was another group it was possible to see around the village on occasion. This was a group liable to excite scandalised whispers among gossiping women, knowing winks between their men folk and the occasional wolf whistle from young farm lads. These were the young, rather exotic ladies whose numbers varied from time to time who worked at the Cabaret Chat Noir a little way outside of the village. These young ladies called themselves “dancers” or, even more pretentiously, “artistes” as if the doubtless considerable skills involved in shedding their clothing on a stage in front of an exclusive clientele of leering males could be described as an art form. It was quite rare to see these eye catching young ladies abroad in broad daylight. They were creatures of the night who worked long hours at the cabaret. When not divesting themselves of their clothing on stage they would be employed in divesting gullible men of their disposable income by luring them into sharing bottles of cheap champagne at astronomically inflated prices as the price of their company or perhaps even tempting them into greater intimacy in one of the alcoves of the cabaret, partitioned from the rest by heavy curtains, known as the separee. The Chat Noir “girls”, as they were rather euphemistically called locally, tended to keep themselves to themselves and slept most of the hours of daylight in any case. Seeing them about the village in the daytime hours was as incongruous as sighting a night moth under the daylight sun only much more colourful. When they did appear in the village most men avoided their eye in fear of eliciting any recognition from them. There were few married men in the village who wanted their patronage of the Cabaret Chat Noir to become common knowledge.
There was also an older somewhat more well to do segment of the local populace. In spite of its admittedly agrarian nature the region around Pont du Rochelles was a prosperous one or at least it boasted a sizable group of wealthy patriarchs and matriarchs who held the real economic clout and political influence around the village. This upper echelon of local society owned most of the village along with a large proportion of the local business. These were the people of influence and importance in the village; the people who kept the wheels of local commerce turning; the people who were the shakers and movers; the people whose wealth and connections gave them a disproportionate voice in the running of local affairs; the very people, in fact, who it was politic to stay firmly on the right side of. To be numbered among this class, albeit in a roundabout fashion and slightly scandalous manner, was the formidable matriarch and proprietress of the Cafe du Concorde.
Madame Courvelle had been a great beauty in her youth and was still, at age fifty, a strikingly handsome lady. She had married well to a gentleman of considerable wealth and, upon her early widowhood, had inherited her late husband’s fortune. The Cafe du Concorde was but one of her business interests albeit a favourite one. She owned a considerable amount of property including a small mansion on the outskirts of the village, several vineyards and, in addition to her ownership of the Cafe du Concorde, she was also the proprietress of the Cabaret Chat Noir. This fact alone was enough to ensure Madame Courvelle a highly influential position since it meant that she was party to many a secret that influential men of the village were desirous of avoiding becoming part of the public domain. She was not a woman to cross lightly! Generally though she was discreet and, if there was a whiff of scandal to her business dealings, then she was rich enough to dismiss them as the idle gossip of envy. She was a busy lady and, although she would spend much of her nights at the helm in the cabaret, especially on the weekends, the centre of her little empire was the Cafe Du Concorde where she could most often be found holding court. The cafe was the hub of social life within the village and, standing firmly at the epicentre of this, was Madame Courvelle herself. She ruled over her empire with grace and charm but also with a rod of iron. She was the very last person in Pont du Rochelles that Yvette Marie-Louise Renard would have wished to fall on the wrong side of.
If the Cafe du Concorde might have struck the casual observer as an unlikely setting for a severe and humiliating punishment then they would have been even more surprised to learn that the central figure on the receiving end of this misfortune was Yvette Renard. There was certainly nothing about Yvette to suggest that she was the kind of girl to attract trouble. She was not wilful or malicious. She was young and attractive but by no means flighty or loose. Most people in the village would have told you that she was conscientious, intelligent, hard working and invariably courteous and respectful to her elders. She was, in fact, a thoroughly nice girl. She was petite with long brown hair and a serious demeanour to her pretty face. Other than her charming looks she was not the kind of girl to attract attention. She was rather shy if anything and not given to the type of behaviour that would elicit disapproval from the older members of the community. She lived quietly with an elderly aunt, her divorced mother having died tragically young some years previously, and generally troubled nobody. She didn’t even have a boyfriend for she was hopelessly timid around members of the opposite sex.
In spite of her timidity Yvette was a girl of ambition and, in Pont du Rochelles, ambition was a necessary attribute for any young girl to possess should she want to make anything of her life. There was little meaningful employment for young women in the village other than service either in the domestic sense or in the cafes and shops. The best prospect that most young women could expect locally was a good marriage but even prospective suitors with the wherewithal to support a wife comfortably were in short supply and liable to fall to girls with far more predatory aggression than the shy little Yvette could muster. But Yvette had one priceless advantage. She had been clever at school and diligent in her studies and the combination had reaped her a rich reward for now, just into her twenties, she was a student teacher at a primary school in the nearest town, some twenty kilometres away. She hoped in the near future to become a fully qualified teacher and to obtain some independence in her life. For the moment however she could not afford to live in town and was reliant upon her aunt’s generosity, in allowing her virtually free accommodation, even if it meant her having to drive her old and battered little Renault each day to town to work.
All in all therefore Yvette was a thoroughly admirable young lady and it might seem difficult to understand what brought her to that terrible day when she found herself bending over a chair in the Cafe du Concorde with her skirt above her waist and her knickers about her knees awaiting the stroke of the cane. There was certainly no serious flaw in her character that led her to such an impasse. If flaw there was it was a flaw endemic to all young girls of her age; the flaw of her very youth. She was very young and, in common with most young people, on occasion apt to act foolishly; to not consider the consequences of her actions; in short to do something silly and thoughtless that an older and wiser head would have instantly recognised the folly of. It was this impulsive rashness that brought her to her regrettable demise in the Cafe du Concorde and could indeed have led her to even greater disaster.
It was perhaps the spring air during the Easter break from school that was the root cause behind Yvette’s serious lack of judgement, for the warm weather and liberty from work had induced in her a somewhat frivolous and enervated mood. Still there was nothing sinister in her decision to drive that evening to attend a reunion party with some old school friends at a restaurant in a neighbouring village. The food was excellent and the company delightful and Yvette found herself enjoying herself enormously. The wine flowed freely; too freely in fact and it was that which started the downward spiral toward catastrophe. Yvette had a poor head for alcohol and her first, and possibly most fundamental, error of the night was to foolishly decide to drive home with far too much of the fruits of the g**** fizzing merrily in her veins. She justified this misguided decision to herself on the grounds that she had little other alternative. Nobody else of sobriety was driving home her way and there was no taxi service in the neighbourhood. Walking was out of the question for it was nearly eight kilometres back to Pont du Rochelles and that along pitch black, country lanes to boot. Of course she should have refused to drink at all but by the time she found herself fumbling for her car keys in the car park of the restaurant, in the early hours of the morning, it was too late to consider that option. Almost certainly among Yvette’s calculations, such as they were, was the thought that she was very unlikely to be caught driving home while intoxicated. The village of Pont du Rochelles did not possess much in the way of local constabulary and what it did boast in this regard was more than likely to be firmly in their beds by this hour. It was only eight kilometres after all and it was improbable that she would even encounter another car. She would risk it.
Even after a couple of kilometres Yvette’s folly should have been evident to her. She was not a very good driver at the best of times but tonight she was particularly erratic. Twice she found herself off the road and onto the grass verges as she peered myopically through the windscreen at the dark lane ahead, poorly illuminated by her feeble headlamps. It was a wonder that she managed to navigate her way over the ancient and much beloved, but exceedingly narrow bridge over the river at Pont du Rochelles without mishap. It was not until she entered the centre of the village and turned onto the square however that calamity struck. Eager to get home by now she took the corner far too fast and made a complete hash of the turn, veering wildly and coming into sickening contact with a parked automobile just outside the Cafe du Concorde and careering along its flank in a squeal of tortured metal.
In shock Yvette recognised the car she had struck immediately. It was a large and expensive Mercedes, virtually brand new and the property, no less, of Madame Courvelle, the daunting matriarch of the Cafe du Concorde, parked in her usual place when she decided to sl**p the night in her rooms above the cafe instead of driving home to her mansion. Panic and terror overcame Yvette and they led her to her second major blunder of the night. To have had an accident whilst under the influence of alcohol would mean the automatic loss of her driving licence, sullied as it was already by a sorry list of minor misdemeanours. The loss of her licence meant that she would be without transport to get to work and stood to lose her job and, with it, the very aspirations of her ambition and career. Whatever Yvette was thinking at this moment, it was hardly rational. Gripped in panic she drove straight home, hid her damaged car in the garage and rushed upstairs to fling herself on her bed sobbing in fear. It was not the proudest night in Yvette’s life.
Nor was it the most congenial awakening for Madame Courvelle the next morning. Stepping out of the cafe into the bright morning sunshine on the square she saw immediately the devastation wreaked upon her proud possession. The paint work along the whole right side of the car was a wretched shambles, the right front wing was badly staved in and the side mirror on that flank was lying in the road half way across the square. In understandable high dudgeon Madame Courvelle stormed back into the cafe to summon the local police officer on the telephone.
Chief Constable Morel, the senior officer of the district arrived within half an hour accompanied by one of his subalterns to inspect the scene of the incident and to interview the furious Madame Courvelle. He took a statement from Madame Courvelle, which shed little light on the matter other than Madame’s outraged indignation and an imperious demand that the culprit responsible for the outrage be apprehended forthwith. In the meantime his subordinate made enquiries among the delightedly fascinated crowd now gathering on the square around the ruins of Madame Courvelle’s automobile. Not much happened as a rule in Pont du Rochelles and the scandalous immolation of Madame’s car was the most exciting thing that had happened in months. People were all too willing to come forward to the police but sadly few of them had anything constructive to contribute to the inquiries. Some claimed to have heard a crash in the middle of the night though seldom did their estimated times of this event coincide with each other. Conspicuously lacking was any eye witness evidence regarding the incident. Nobody had seen anything.
By mid morning Chief Constable Morel and Madame Courvelle had been joined by Monsieur Cordeaux, the leading local magistrate, who had arrived to assure Madame Courvelle, over a glass of excellent Baux de Provence, that he regarded the matter with the utmost gravity and should the police succeed in bringing the culprit before his court then they could expect the full majesty of the law to fall upon their sorrowful head. The head of the local prefecture also put in an appearance for no other reason than to lend support and the fact that the scandal on the square was a welcome diversion on what would otherwise have been a typically uninteresting day.
The subject whose identity and ultimate fate was being so gravely discussed by this collection of worthy dignitaries was, at that time, sat miserably on her bed, nursing a monumental hangover and reflecting ruefully that she had made the worst mistake of her life. Impulsive actions that had seemed logical the night before were now revealed in the sober light of day to be folly bordering on lunacy. If having an accident whilst under the influence of alcohol was severely remissible it paled into insignificance against the added offence of leaving the scene of an accident for which she was responsible without reporting it. That was a serious crime in France and liable to be severely dealt with at the hands of the law. Nor could Yvette see the remotest possible chance of evading exposure as the perpetrator of the deed. A little earlier she had crept into the garage to inspect the damage to her own car. Oddly, considering the havoc it had wreaked upon Madame Courvelle’s Mercedes, the little Renault had escaped relatively uns**thed. Nevertheless there was sufficient damage to the car’s bodywork to indicate its involvement in a recent collision and even the most simple police officer would be hard put not to link the damage to that on the afore-mentioned automobile of Madame Courvelle. Nom de Dieu! There were even plainly discernible streaks of the Mercedes’ silver paint work clearly visible on the Renault! She couldn’t hide her own car indefinitely in the garage and, once revealed to the public, it wasn’t going to take the detective intuition of a Hercules Poirot to point the accusing finger in her direction.
For most of the morning Yvette sat in her room and mused despairingly over her dwindling list of options. By lunchtime she had come to the inevitable and sorry conclusion that she had only one feasible option albeit an unthinkable one. She would have to make a clean breast of it. She would have to walk humbly into the Cafe du Concorde and confess her crime to Madame Courvelle in person, offer to pay for the damage she had caused and throw herself on the mercy of that redoubtable lady. Her only salvation lay in the hope that Madame Courvelle might take pity on her and be persuaded not to press charges on the understanding that Yvette would naturally recompense her for the damage caused. It was a fool’s hope but the only one she had left. Shortly after lunch therefore Yvette donned her best dress, pulled on a pair of pretty sandals and walked down to the village square with all the air of the condemned on their final walk to the guillotine.
A little later, in the backroom of the cafe where Yvette had requested a private conversation with Madame Courvelle, she poured out a full confession being careful to omit no detail of her culpability and expressing the most humble contrition for her malfeasance. She insisted that she would reimburse Madame Courvelle for every cent of the costs to repair the car. She did however point out that a criminal case against her would mean the end of her career before it had barely started and she pleaded with Madame Courvelle to spare her from the full weight of the judicial authorities.
Madame Courvelle listened carefully to Yvette’s long monologue and, when she had finally run out of steam and fallen into a pathetically hopeful silence, she took the time to light a cigarette and to ponder her response before replying. She had been astonished by the intelligence that it was Yvette who was responsible for the damage to her car. She had been privately nursing a conviction that the culprits were one of a gang of young lads who had been a thorn in her side for some time now. Yvette was the last person she would have thought of. The sorry series of events Yvette described seemed so out of character for the serious and shy young girl Madame Courvelle knew well.
It placed Madame Courvelle in somewhat of a quandary however. The truth was that she liked Yvette. She had long harboured an admiration for the young girl’s ethos of hard work and careful study and her initiative in trying to better herself through her own efforts. She had long lamented the fact that more young people in the village had not demonstrated such considered thought for their futures. She was under no illusion that Yvette was anything other than completely correct in her analysis of the effects of a criminal record on her career however. If anything Yvette had understated it. It would be fatal. She could forget forever her ambitions to teach. That was a pity for Yvette was probably the brightest young girl in the village and it was criminal that she should so squander her prospects and bright potential in a moment of uncharacteristic madness. Yet what should she do about it?
She pondered her options thoughtfully before finally addressing the miserably penitent girl shuffling her feet in front of her. “Well Yvette,” she began, “I have to thank you at least for coming here and making a full confession. It doesn’t excuse your criminal stupidity but it is nevertheless to your credit that you have been honest enough to own up to your foolishness.” Madame Courvelle shook her head in exasperation. “Whatever were you thinking of girl? I’m surprised at you! Whatever possessed you to take your car out drinking in the name of heaven?”
Yvette lowered her head contritely, her lower lip trembling in sorrow. “I... I don’t know Madame.”
Madame Courvelle clicked her tongue in irritation. “I can’t think what came over you Yvette. This is most unlike you. Mon Dieu, what am I to do with you?”
“I...I’m sorry Madame.” Yvette dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief she was clutching in her hand.
Madame Courvelle waved a finger at her. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be Yvette! I have to inform you that it is too late to keep this matter from the authorities for the police have already been informed. Even as we speak Chief Constable Morel is making inquiries and searching for the culprit responsible. Now you might be the last person that comes to his mind on his list of suspects but, in a place as small as Pont du Rochelles, I don’t think it will take him long to narrow the list down to you. One of the first things he will do will be to inquire at all the local cafes and restaurants to discover who might have been driving home late last night. Once he discovers that Yvette Renard was out late drinking in a restaurant in St Marie aux Provence and drove home in the early hours even his limited powers of detection are going to put two and two together. Am I right in assuming that your automobile is possibly at least as damaged as mine?”
Yvette nodded abjectly. “Oui Madame.”
“Well then, as soon as he seeks an interview with you and demands to inspect your vehicle, then your guilt will be established beyond doubt. You will, if I may say it, be dans la merde!” Madame Courvelle shook her head once more. “Have you any idea of the trouble you’re in Yvette? I had Monsieur Cordeaux, the magistrate, in here earlier. He takes a very serious view of this incident and is determined to see justice done. You left the scene of an accident without reporting it Yvette! Leaving the scene when you knew you were intoxicated to avoid being breathalysed will be construed as attempting to pervert the course of justice. It is a very serious offence Yvette. You’re not just looking at a fine, a slap on the wrist and the loss of your driving licence here. You could go to jail for this Yvette! The magistrate might well take the view that a short but salutary few weeks in the cells at Montpoulier would be your just desserts. At the very least you will acquire a criminal record. That will be the end of your career. You will never obtain a teaching job with a criminal record. I can’t believe how foolish you’ve been!”
Yvette sobbed quietly. “So.... I am finished then?”
Madame Courvelle regarded the young girl with pity and measured her words carefully before speaking once more. “That rather depends Yvette. I might yet be able to do something.” She raised a warning finger at the look of sudden hope in Yvette’s eyes. “I do not for a minute condone your actions or excuse your foolishness Yvette. Nevertheless I think it would be tragic for a young girl of such potential as yourself to throw it all away through a momentary, idiotic lack of judgement. Now the Chief Constable and the magistrate are both good friends of mine and I might be able to persuade them that you deserve a second chance.” Once again Madame Courvelle raised that cautionary finger. “I cannot promise anything mind. However they may be open to reason in this matter. We can only hope. If I am able to persuade them however it leaves us with certain problems. To begin with it will leave me out of pocket. If I succeed in persuading the authorities to quietly drop the charges it will mean that I certainly won’t be able to claim for the damages from the insurance company.”
“I...I will pay for the damage Madame!”
Madame Courvelle dismissed that offer with a snort of disbelief. “I think you might be under a misapprehension as to just how much it is going to cost to put right Yvette. I’ve had Gaston from the garage have a look over the vehicle. It will need a completely new paint job as well as both the rear and front wings replacing not to mention a new side mirror. It’s a new car and it’s going to be an expensive business. Now I don’t know exactly how much you are earning as a student teacher but I’m guessing that it’s not a great deal. It will certainly be beyond your wherewithal to meet the costs of repair at this moment. Now, as it happens, I am temporarily short-handed here in the cafe. If you are agreeable it might be possible for us to come to some arrangement whereby which you work off your debt to me in the cafe. Naturally I would not insist on you working when you were obliged to attend your normal job however I could use you on evenings and weekends or during school holidays. Would you agree to such an arrangement?”
The tearful Yvette nodded eagerly. “Oui Madame!”
“Very well then. I shall see what I can do. The other problem of course is that Chief Constable Morel and Monsieur Cordeaux might well take the view that you are being let off lightly. They will doubtless argue that you should not be expected to escape without some sort of penance for your foolishness. Monsieur Cordeaux in particular has a strict sense of moral justice and it will be anathema to him that a young woman culpable of such a serious offence should evade justice without the retribution she deserves. I agree with him! You have been guilty of monumental stupidity and you should suffer the penalty for it if only to teach you to exercise better judgement in future. What that penalty should be however is possibly open to negotiation. I might be able to persuade Monsieur Cordeaux that this matter be treated as an internal affair and, assuming that the penalty imposed is commensurate with the seriousness of the offence, that it would serve nobody’s purpose to drag the thing through official channels and see you burdened with a criminal record. You would however have to agree to be bound by whatever decision I might be able to negotiate with the magistrate and willing to accept whatever punishment he found acceptable. Would you be so willing?”
Yvette nodded compliantly. She was willing to accept anything if it might yet salvage something from the disaster. “Oui Madame. I will do as you say.”
“Very well then. You must leave the matter in my hands. Now dry your eyes girl and blow your nose. You look a mess! I want you to go straight home now and stay there. Do not discuss this conversation we have had with anybody; not even your friends. Do you understand?”
“Oui Madame.”
“Make sure you do. Now I shall confer with the Chief Constable and Monsieur Cordeaux this afternoon. Again I must stress that I’m not promising anything and, even if I do manage to persuade them, then there will still be consequences for your actions and they will consequences that you will find disagreeable. You must however place your trust entirely in me and I might yet be able to save you from the full repercussions under the law. I want you to return here this evening at ten thirty, a little before the cafe closes and I should by then be able to inform you of whatever I have managed to agree upon with the Chief Constable and Monsieur Cordeaux. Now run along off home and say nothing to anybody.”
Yvette curtsied in gratitude and fled. Once Yvette had departed Madame Courvelle poured herself a cognac and leaned back in her chair with deep satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with herself. Every cloud had a silver lining they said! This could turn out very well indeed. The compliant little Yvette would doubtless go to any length to stay out of a court of law. Suggesting that Yvette work off her debt had been a stroke of genius! Yvette was not the only young lady of Madame Courvelle’s acquaintance to have been guilty of poor judgement of late. Jeanette, one of the serving girls at the Cafe du Concorde, was pregnant! The paternity of her expected c***d was the subject of much conjecture around the village. Sad to relate, there were several possible candidates! Now Madame Courvelle was fond of Jeanette and it was against her principles to cast the girl out for foolishly finding herself in the f****y way. Nevertheless Jeanette’s progressing pregnancy, looming confinement and post natal responsibilities meant that she would be less and less available to work in the cafe. Madame Courvelle had agonised over the problem of finding a suitable replacement for her. Now it seemed, at a single stroke, she had found one; a pretty young girl of good character who, eager to make amends for her indiscretion, would not only be a willing and keen worker but also had the added benefit of being extremely cheap!
Madame Courvelle had been somewhat less than candid with Yvette over the costs of the repairs. In fact she had enough connections in this regard to be able to repair her car at a fairly economical price. In fact she had already privately discussed the matter with Gaston from the garage with a view to stiffing the insurance company for whatever the traffic would bear and pocketing the difference between them. Now of course that would not happen but this was certainly an agreeable alternative if it meant acquiring the services of Yvette Renard at a cut price rate! She wouldn’t make the girl work entirely for free of course. She’d make sure the girl had enough pocket money and later, when the hypothetical repairs had been repaid, she would be able to manipulate the situation into employing Yvette on a more permanent part time basis. She was sure the girl would be an asset. She was conscientious, hard working and, once she was attired in the obligatory uniform of the Cafe du Concorde, she would make a most pleasingly attractive addition to her stable of serving wenches!
All she had to do was persuade Chief Constable Morel and Monsieur Cordeaux. In spite of the misgivings she had voiced to Yvette, Madame Courvelle was in no doubt whatsoever as to her ability to convince those two gentlemen of the appropriateness of her plan. The Chief Constable was an indolent man and not fond of anything resembling work. Pont Du Rochelles, with its virtually non-existent crime rate, suited him down to the ground, enabling him to lead a peaceful life untroubled by the necessities of disagreeable toil. He would certainly go for any scheme that avoided his having the burden of the tedious protracted paper work the criminal prosecution of Yvette Renard would entail. As for Monsieur Cordeaux, well the rigorous moral code Madame Courvelle had mentioned to Yvette, was little more than a hypocritical facade as she, as the proprietress of the Cabaret Chat Noir, where this righteous upholder of the majesty of the law was a frequent visitor, could testify only too well. His devotion to a certain young lady of Asian extraction within that establishment would not only undermine his self appointed role as the local arbiter of morality and justice but also threaten to bring a fearsome, just retribution from an even closer quarter in the shape of his temperamental and indignant wife! He was no problem! He would readily acquiesce in any plan Madame Courvelle formulated.
Of course she would sweeten their concession to her wishes. She would sweeten that with a suitable punishment for the foolishness of Yvette Renard! With that agreeable thought Madame Courvelle swilled her fine cognac in its glass and leaned back to consider a suitable retribution for the hapless young lady now at home awaiting her fate. In spite of her ruthless streak and what might be considered a less than blemishless moral code of her own Madame Courvelle considered herself a just and moral person. She genuinely believed that Yvette deserved to be punished. She was of the firm opinion that a good sound lesson would do the foolish young girl the world of good and teach her a valuable lesson in her future conduct. The fact that the punishment of Yvette would be an agreeably stimulating exercise was simply the icing on the cake.
Any one of the serving girls at the Cafe du Concorde could have predicted with conviction the kind of punishment Madame Courvelle was contemplating. Madame Courvelle loved the young charges under her employ with a fierce devotion and adamant protectiveness. To her they were the f****y that the early demise of her husband had denied to her and they were as close to being her daughters in her mind as made no difference. She was their mentor; their mother figure and their guardian. Few people in Pont du Rochelles would have dared to incur Madame Courvelle’s wrath by wronging one of the young ladies under her care. The defensive umbrella she extended over them was the absolute dedication of a mother for her brood and the ferocity with which she protected them was legendary. Implicit in such protectiveness however was the consideration that the girls needed to be protected from themselves. All four of them had chequered background; pasts that would not bear the scrutiny of close examination for moral flaws. All of them were indebted to Madame Courvelle in one way or another for saving them from the consequences of those pasts. Madame Courvelle had somewhat of a penchant for championing the cause of young ladies whose misdeeds had led them so far from the path of righteousness as to find her the only remaining salvation. They repaid her devoted commitment to their welfare with an unswerving loyalty that was not entirely explained by the circumstances of young ladies with few other chances of employment or prospects other than those offered within the sanctuary of the Cafe du Concorde.
But if Madame Courvelle adored her girls she was nevertheless under no false illusions regarding them. She considered it her duty to continuously monitor their conduct, oversee their discipline and, when it became necessary, to correct their misbehaviour firmly and in such a manner as to discourage them from so deviating from the standards she expected of them again. To this end Madame Courvelle favoured the use of the cane. She rarely caned the girls herself, preferring to delegate this task to Hanna, the African lady who served as the general housekeeper, watchdog and manageress of the Cafe du Concorde in Madame Courvelle’s absence. Hanna was a powerfully built lady who took her disciplinary duties seriously and few girls who were unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of a caning from her were likely to forget the experience or wish to repeat it.
In spite of this the girls of the Cafe du Concorde were all too familiar with Hanna’s cane. They were, to a body, high spirited young girls with a penchant for mischief and frequently inclined toward the sort of behaviour that would attract their mistress’s wrath. The cane saw regular usage in the Cafe du Concorde. The girls never objected to the painful interludes when they were called upon to pay account for their conduct. In truth they considered themselves fortunate to fall under the protection of their self-appointed guardian. Meanness could not be counted among Madame Courvelle’s faults and the girls earned a generous salary; far more than the equivalent wages of other waitresses in similar establishments, and if Madame Courvelle was ready to punish their misdeeds, she was equally ready to reward good behaviour or outstanding effort with additional bonuses or gifts. Nor did the girls object to the somewhat titillating maids’ uniforms Madame Courvelle insisted upon them wearing. In this they bowed to their mistress’s wisdom and sound business sense. Their appealing and flirtatious appearance was a major reason why the Cafe du Concorde was such a busy and popular establishment. The girls benefited directly from this far sighted policy. Generous though their allowance was, they could, in a good month, nearly double it in tips. In short they considered themselves lucky indeed and the occasional caning a small price to pay for an otherwise agreeably pleasant and pampered life.
So the girls once they had been informed of the circumstances had no doubts as to the likely fate of Yvette Renard. Madame Courvelle informed them that she might well be joining their ranks shortly. They were looking forward to welcoming the pretty young girl to their little s****rhood. With Jeanette about to become hors de combat, as it were, they were liable to need the extra help. Little Yvette would fit the bill nicely. She was a bit of an innocent for the moment it is true but that wouldn’t last! Doubtless her first duty as a newly inducted member of the staff would be to bend over and lower her drawers for the cane. A good caning was always a highly diverting interlude in their lives as long as they were the ones observing it and not on the receiving end! Little Mademoiselle Renard would have few secrets left from her admiring s****rs in servitude once they had watched her pretty little naked bottom receiving the attentions of Hanna’s cane. It promised to be a most gratifying spectacle!
Whilst her fate was being decided and Madame Courvelle was making the necessary negotiations and preparations, Yvette stayed at home alone immersed in a mixture of trepidation and hope. She had, as yet, little inclination as to the exact nature of the “consequences” Madame Courvelle had promised her as the price of her deliverance from the authorities of the law and she preferred not to dwell on it. She was vaguely aware through hearsay that Madame Courvelle was apt to be a strict disciplinarian with the girls in her employ. She was a little hazy as to the exact implications of those rumours but she guessed it might portend some unpleasant destiny with regard to herself. There was nothing to do but resign herself to it. The alternative was unthinkable! If Madame Courvelle could save her from a court of law then she would have to find the courage to endure whatever other retribution Madame had in store for her. But Madame Courvelle was already well ahead in her preparations and poor Yvette’s faltering courage would have quailed at the punishment she had decided upon as the just response to the young girl’s foolishness.
At the appointed hour Yvette left the house and once more made her way with leaden feet in the direction of the Cafe du Concorde. She had been careful to look her best in a pretty summer dress that came down to her knees, becoming sandals on her feet and her long brown hair neatly brushed and tied back with a ribbon. This appearance of a fresh young girl was somewhat spoiled however by the sorrowful and nervous demeanour on her otherwise pretty face. The walk down Rue de St. Jacques to the village square seemed, if anything, even longer than the one she had taken that afternoon. The streets, with the inadequate street lighting of Pont du Rochelles, seemed dark and melancholy and a fitting accompaniment to Yvette’s gloomy mood. Only on the square was there a lifting of this air of deserted desolation for the Cafe du Concorde was brightly lit and still, at this late hour, thronged with people. There were animated voices from within the cafe and a number of people still at the tables outside enjoying the warmth of the evening under the glow of the outside lights. With a heavy heart Yvette crossed the square and, after a pause to muster her courage, entered the cafe.
She stood blinking in the doorway feeling foolish and wondering what to do as she took in the brightly lit scene before her. The Cafe du Concorde was surprisingly big on the inside, given its relatively narrow frontage on the street, for it stretched a considerable distance back. There was a small bar half way along one side which acted as a dispensary for orders for the serving girls who delivered them to the tables, each covered in a jaunty red and white chequered tablecloth and decorated with candles and small posies of flowers in vases. Three of Madame Courvelle’s girls were busy among the tables, for the cafe was nearly full, and the bar was being presided over by the imposing figure of Hanna, Madame Courvelle’s African manageress, two metres tall, statuesque of build and skin the colour of polished ebony.
Nervously Yvette cast her eyes about for Madame Courvelle. She saw her almost at once; sat at a table, towards the far end of the cafe, in earnest conversation with Chief Constable Morel, Monsieur Cordeaux and a gentleman she recognised as Monsieur Cabal, high up in the administration of the local prefecture. With a thrill of fear Yvette realised that the topic of their conversation was mostly likely her and she hesitated over her next step. Her uncertainty was ended by Michelle, one of the serving girls, who, sighting her at the doorway and being fully briefed on the situation, came across to render instructions. Madame was busy for the moment, she informed Yvette, and would attend to her in due course. In the meantime would Yvette care to take a seat and perhaps something to drink while she waited? She ushered Yvette to a small table in a corner and asked what she would like to drink. Unwilling to sully her reputation further Yvette decided that it would be undiplomatic to order alcohol and so she asked for a cafe au lait. With her coffee in front of her, Michelle left Yvette to her own devices.
She was kept waiting there for over three quarters of an hour although, to the disconsolate little figure of Yvette alone at her small table, the wait seemed interminable. From her lonely vantage point Yvette could see that business was winding down for the evening as group after group of people paid their accounts and departed, hastened along by the girls who were making it plain that the cafe would be closing shortly. Finally, after clearing the tables outside, switching off the outdoor lights and pulling the heavy d****s over the windows Michelle turned the key in the front door lock to signify that the cafe was now closed. It wasn’t immediately apparent however for there were still a number of people left in the cafe. In addition to the staff there was still the party at Madame Courvelle’s table. There were also two prominent local vintners who Yvette knew vaguely; there were Madame and Monsieur Deluz who owned the Hotel du Ville; Monsieur D’arles who ran the patisserie on the square in conversation with the local postmaster and Madame Montagnon, a fabulously wealthy divorcee, who owned a huge property outside the village, accompanied by a younger gentleman who was reputed to be her toy boy if local rumour was to be believed. There were even two people that Yvette didn’t know. One was a devastatingly good looking man in his early thirties; an artist from the Hotel du Ville whose work Madame Courvelle admired and had been commissioned to paint her serving girls. The other person with whom Yvette was not familiar was perched tipsily on this gentleman’s knee; a blond girl of undoubted attraction who had a glass of wine in one hand whilst her other arm was d****d about his neck as she giggled at some witty remark he had ventured. These then were representatives of Madame Courvelle’s inner circle of friends and acquaintances; people high enough in her favour to be accorded the privilege of lingering long after the official closing time of the cafe. It hardly appeared as if Yvette’s coming confrontation with Madame Courvelle was going to be a particularly private one.
Madame Courvelle’s girl Bernadette was busy clearing the last of the glasses and bottles from the now vacated tables and the vivacious little dark haired girl, Sophie was behind the bar assisting Hanna with the cleaning up when Michelle once more approached Yvette to inform her that Madame would see her now. Swallowing the bile that came unbidden to her throat in sudden fear, Yvette rose and walked the length of the cafe to stand before the table, occupied by Madame Courvelle and the dignitaries she had been in conference with, where she curtsied nervously in politeness and waited. Madame Courvelle did not invite Yvette to take a seat but instead fixed her with a stern gaze. “Well Yvette,” she began, “In furtherance to our conversation this afternoon I have conferred with Chief Constable Morel and Monsieur Cordeaux here. They both agree with me that you have been a wickedly foolish girl and deserve to be severely punished for your reckless stupidity. Monsieur Cordeaux has pointed out your serious transgressions of the law and what it would mean if you were to be brought before him in his official capacity and the Chief Constable has further pointed out that it could have been much worse. He quite rightly notes that the road between here and St Marie du Provence is notoriously dangerous even for a person in full command of their senses in broad daylight. Driving home in the dark in the intoxicated state you have confessed to, it is only through the Grace of God that you are not now lying in a hospital bed or even on a slab at the mortuary. Your foolishness was unforgivable Yvette. Do you not agree?”
Yvette blushed and nodded. “Oui Madame.” she croaked. She became aware that the hum of conversation behind her had faded away. The remaining occupants of the cafe had now fixed their attentions upon the tableau being enacted at Madame Courvelle’s table.
“However,” Madame Courvelle continued, “I have been able to persuade these gentlemen that, in view of your previous blemishless record and the good advice of those who know you well, that you deserve to be given another chance. I have, at no small cost to myself, convinced these gentlemen to drop the charges and to not proceed with criminal prosecution against you.”
Yvette curtsied in profound relief. “Merci Messieurs.” she breathed gratefully.
“I have not finished Yvette.” Madame Courvelle admonished her austerely. “Whilst the gentlemen agree with me that it would be regrettable under the circumstances for you to acquire the criminal record, which would surely fall to you were this matter to be pursued in an official capacity, their agreement comes with conditions attached. In short their agreement to not press charges against you is provisional upon your consent to and abidance by those conditions we discussed this afternoon. I must therefore ask you if you are still prepared to abide by those conditions.”
Yvette nodded her head eagerly. “Oui, Oui Madame! Naturally!”
“Before you agree so readily Yvette let us remind ourselves what those conditions were. To begin with we agreed that you would work off the cost of the damages to my automobile through employment here in the cafe. Are you still in accordance with that agreement?”
“Naturellement Madame. I will work as long as it takes.”
“Excellent! In that case before you leave tonight we must draw up a rota for your future employment.” Madame Courvelle fortified herself with a sip of wine from her glass. “Now the other proviso upon which the agreement depended Yvette was some sort of retribution for your criminal folly. Mr Cordeaux in particular was most insistent upon this. Just because you are after all being spared the penalties due to you under the law that does not mean that you should be spared any sort of punishment. Mr Cordeaux was adamant that you pay some just penalty for your misdeeds if only to teach you of the consequences of your actions. I have to say that I agree with him. You certainly should not allowed to escape unpunished. However I have suggested a course of action to the gentlemen here whereby which we treat this as a private matter and deal with the matter of your punishment privately without referring it to the higher authorities of the law. I must now ask you therefore if you consent to and accept the punishment that I and these gentlemen have decided upon as a suitable retribution for your crimes.”
Yvette swallowed and struggled to find speech. The cafe had fallen silent and all eyes were turned upon her awaiting her answer. “Wh...what kind of punishment Madame?” she croaked out at last in a hoarse whisper.
In response Madame Courvelle turned her attention to the bar and caught Hanna’s eye. “If you please Hanna.” she intoned. Hanna nodded with a grunt and reached down behind the bar for something. She stepped out from behind the bar and crossed the room to join the conference. Yvette caught her breath with a gasp. Over her left arm Hanna carried a clean tea towel. In her right hand she bore a polished length of rattan cane, two metres long, three quarters of a centimetre thick and gleaming pale yellow under the lights of the cafe. Yvette felt the bl**d drain from her face as she understood the exact nature of the punishment Madame Courvelle had in mind. “You are to be caned Yvette!” stated Madame Courvelle in a flat, matter of fact voice by way of confirmation. “Severely!” she added as an afterthought.
Yvette’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. “P... Please no Madame!” she whispered in horror.
Madame Courvelle looked disappointed in her. “Am I to take it then that you would prefer to explain your recent conduct in front of the magistrates’ bench then Yvette?”
Yvette shook her head vigorously. “Non Madame! Si ’l vous plait! Non!”
“Well the only alternative is that you agree to suffer the punishment we have determined for you in lieu of criminal prosecution. Now what is it to be? Do you wish to face criminal charges which will almost certainly see you with a hefty fine, loss of your licence, a criminal record and possibly even a spell of judicial incarceration or will you accept this alternative punishment to demonstrate your contrition and acknowledgement of your responsibility for your actions?” Yvette was bereft of speech. Her eyes kept flicking between Madame Courvelle and the cane in Hanna’s hand. She seemed hypnotised by it. “Well Yvette?” Madame Courvelle reminded her. “I am waiting!”
“P...please Madame! I...I don’t want to go to court!”
“Are you therefore prepared to accept the cane?”
Yvette bit her lip in anguish. She realised that she was trapped. There was no alternative. If she was to salvage anything out of the disaster her foolishness had landed her in then she must face the wicked instrument glistening in Hanna’s hand. In abject misery she nodded barely perceptibly, lowered her head and whispered. “Oui Madame.”
“Very well then! We shall proceed. The gentlemen and I have discussed the exact severity of the sentence to be administered commensurate with your crime and have agreed upon a number. Hanna will therefore administer one hundred strokes of the cane on your bottom.” Madame Courvelle paused for dramatic effect “Your bare bottom!” she concluded. Yvette froze, paralysed with fear at the pronouncement of this sentence. She was not the only one shocked by the severity of the sentence. An excited low hum arose from the other spectators in the cafe now all thoroughly engrossed in the drama being played out before their eyes. Madame Courvelle ignored them and turned to Michelle. “Michelle, would you be so kind as to clear a space in the middle of the room?”
Michelle curtsied prettily. “Oui Madame.” Michelle busied herself moving tables and chairs aside. Yvette watched these preparations with a sense of unreality as if this must be happening to somebody else. Her eyes still kept darting back to the solid figure of Hanna waiting patiently with the cane. Hanna’s dark face was impassive, showing no sign of emotion but she was stroking the cane in her hand almost lovingly.
At last Michelle had cleared a large enough space in the centre of the room and she stepped to one side. Madame Courvelle nodded in approval before turning to Hanna. “You may proceed Hanna.”
Hanna nodded in acknowledgement before stepping into the space Michelle had provided. She flexed the cane in her hand before swinging it through a couple of arcs to test the space available and to ensure that there would be no impediment to her swing. Once satisfied she that had ample room she pointed the cane at a mark on the floor and addressed Yvette. “Stand over here girl!” she commanded. With no other choice available, Yvette complied but her lip was quivering with fear and her knees were trembling so hard she thought they would give way beneath her. Once Yvette was in the proscribed position clutching her hands together to still their shaking, Hanna took a high backed chair and placed it in front of Yvette with the back facing her. “Bend over the chair!” she ordered. Yvette stepped forward in a daze, her head still spinning with disbelief that this was happening to her. Slowly she lowered her torso until she was bent over the chair, the wood of the back of the chair cool against her stomach through the thin material of her dress. “Lift your skirt above your waist!” Hanna commanded her in an imperious tone. With trembling hands Yvette reached behind her to raise the hem of her dress up over her bottom and above her waist as commanded exposing the pair of pale pink knickers she wore beneath which were now her only concession to modesty in front of the avidly interested spectators. Even that last vestige of decorum was destined to disappear however. “Lower your knickers down to your knees!” was Hanna’s next command. Blushing scarlet with mortification in exposing herself so immodestly in public, Yvette reached behind once more, slipping her thumbs into the elastic of her knickers and pulling them down clumsily to her knees. “Straighten your back and legs girl!” Hanna ordered. “And grip hold of the sides of the seat with your hands.” Yvette obeyed as best she could and Hanna ran a critical eye over her. Satisfied with Yvette’s stance Hanna laid the cane to one side for a moment and unbuttoned her jacket. Surprisingly she wore no blouse under her jacket, just a white lacy bra which looked downright incongruous against her solid dark frame and covering her ample firm breasts. She hung her jacket over the back of a chair and picked up the cane once more, flexing it in her hands and trying a couple of practice swings to judge its weight. Yvette, in her prone position glanced at Hanna out of the corner of her eye and shuddered, biting back the sob of fear that rose in her throat. Without her jacket and nearly naked to the waist Hanna looked even more intimidating than ever. The muscles in her arms rippled under the dark skin which gleamed with a sheen of perspiration under the lamps of the cafe. Carefully she wiped the cane with her tea towel and then stepped forward to begin the caning.
At this point Madame Courvelle interrupted proceedings to address Michelle stood in front of Yvette. “Michelle would you be so kind as to count the strokes out loud so we can keep tally please?”
Michelle curtsied. “Oui Madame.”
“Thank you Michelle. You may continue Hanna.”
Hanna nodded and placed the cane against the flesh of Yvette’s bottom to measure the first stroke, watching Yvette flinch at the cool touch of the cane against her trembling skin. Then she raised the cane high above her shoulder and paused for a second. Yvette gripped hold of the chair desperately and clenched her teeth. The Hanna brought the cane down in a long swishing arc. Yvette jerked violently as the cane bit into the fleshy centre of her buttocks. Her eyes which she had been holding tight shut flew open in shock at the excruciating agony in her tender rear and a hiss of expelled breath escaped from between her clenched teeth. She gripped the sides of the chair so hard her knuckles turned white and her face contorted as she struggled to contain her cry as the pain settled into her bottom. “Un!” declared Michelle in smug satisfaction. “That was only the first stroke Mademoiselle!” Michelle thought to herself amusedly. “You have another ninety nine to face!”
Hanna lifted the cane away from the point of the first stroke; the white indentation in the flash caused by the cane already turning scarlet and beginning to swell. Yvette was breathing heavily in the wake of the first searing pain. Behind her spectators were craning their necks or shuffling their positions to afford themselves a better view of the first angry red stripe on her virginal bottom. Hanna wiped her cane once more before measuring up for the second stroke and raising her arm again. Yvette jumped even more under the impact of the cane this time, her head jerking upwards and the pain etched in her face. “Deux!” announced Michelle. Again Hanna went through her unhurried ritual; examining and wiping her cane before addressing the target, lifting the cane and delivering another hard stroke to poor Yvette who jerked convulsively once more, shuddered deeply and whose face turned crimson as she fought to contain the scream that threatened to burst from her lips.
“Trois!” said Michelle. She regarded the suffering girl pityingly. She could see what Yvette was trying to do. It wouldn’t do the silly girl a bit of good though! Nobody could take one hundred strokes of the cane from Hanna in dignified silence! She’d soon be squealing her pretty little head off! Michelle watched as Hanna repeated her ritual before sweeping the cane down once more to land with a vicious crack across Yvette’s tormented buttocks. “Quatre!” she counted observing the gasp from Yvette’s lips and the first tear beginning to form at the corner of her wild, despairing eyes. She had a long way to go yet! Michelle had observed many a caning delivered by Hanna and been on the end of not a few herself. Hanna’s unhurried rhythmical technique never varied and it was so precisely measured you could set your watch by it! The girls had timed a precise ten seconds between one agonising stroke and the next which added up to a rate of six strokes per minute and that meant that this little darling here was facing more than sixteen minutes bent over that chair and ruing the day before her allocated one hundred strokes were completed. She could feel truly sorry for her. The most that Michelle had ever had to take was sixty strokes. That had been bad enough! A hundred strokes didn’t bear thinking about!
“Cinq!” she declared in response to another piercing crack and accompanying convulsion from the suffering girl. Michelle knew what Yvette was going through. The metronomic cadence of Hanna’s delivery was not the only consistency in her action. When Hanna took a cane to you she did it with conviction and authority. There were no little flicks of the wrist from Hanna. Every stroke was delivered firmly and hard with f***e behind it and plenty of follow through. She never pulled a stroke. The cane never bounced off your backside in Hanna’s hands. It bit hard into the flesh, indenting the skin and driving the pain deep into the muscle below leaving angry red welts and bruising in its wake. And every stroke was as hard as the one preceding it or the one to follow. There would be no lighter strokes; no temporary alleviation of the agony. Hanna was not the person to start gently and leave the best till last. Every excruciating lash from the first to the last would be laid on with equal determination and with Hanna’s full strength.
“Six!” said Michelle and at last Yvette gave vent to a strangled cry of pain. Michelle guessed that Hanna had probably landed that one across the back of Yvette’s legs. Hanna tended to cane the buttocks and the fleshy backs of the thighs with equal measure and Michelle knew well just how agonising the cane was across the sensitive regions on the backs of the thighs. “Sept!” and Yvette, abandoning control, squealed in pain. The cane had landed firmly into the crease between her buttocks and the soft upper part of her thighs and the agony, in that so sensitive place, proved more than she could bear.
“Huit.....Neuf......Dix....” Michelle intoned, raising her voice to be heard for now that Yvette’s control had snapped she was shrieking loudly with every stroke. Madame Courvelle watched the caning with interest. The girl was brave but that bravery could not endure such a severe caning. The girl was sobbing freely now between each stroke and that was no bad thing. It would teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget in a hurry! “Onze...Douze....Treize....” In amusement Madame Courvelle observed the reaction of her companions at the table. The three men could not tear their eyes away from Yvette’s pert little buttocks turning more crimson with every stripe under the assault of the cane. Monsieur Cordeaux was turning quite red in the face and a light perspiration was breaking out on his forehead. From where she sat Madame Courvelle ventured a glance at his crotch. The front of his pants was distended by his erection. Evidently he was enjoying the show very much! He must be congratulating himself on agreeing to this alternative to judicial procedure. This was far more entertaining than merely sentencing the girl to a few weeks penal servitude in Montpoulier from the bench!
The gentlemen at Madame Courvelle’s table were not the only ones becoming aroused at the spectacle. As Michelle counted “Quatorze..... Quinze.....Seize....” over Yvette’s howling cries it was evident that the blond girl sat on the knee of Madame Courvelle’s favourite local artist was more than captivated by the scene. She was staring at Yvette’s buttocks jumping under the impact of the cane in rapt fascination. Her lips were parted and she was breathing heavily and squeezing her thighs together. She could feel her handsome companion’s erection through the material of her skirt beneath her bottom and she ground wantonly against it. The artist was delighted by this evidence of his partner’s mounting arousal and he daringly passed a hand up her stomach to snatch a quick clutch at her breast. She shivered under the touch.
“Dix-Sept....Dix-Huit....Dix Neuf....” Yvette was jerking and squirming spasmodically and giving vent to a paroxysm of demented screams; the pain in her nether regions like nothing she had ever experienced. The blond girl’s nostrils flared in response and she quivered in pleasure. Experimentally the artist let his hand fall to her bare thigh below the hem of her skirt. She made no effort to remove it and, emboldened, he allowed his hand to slip to the inside of her thigh and exulted as she parted her legs to accommodate him. From there it was an easy passage, caressing his hand upwards until he encountered the barrier of her knickers, warm from the rousing heat beneath. His fingertips quested for entrance easing under the material of her knickers. There was a brief encounter with the wiry bush of her pubic hair and then he felt his fingers slide into the hot dampness of her sex. He let his fingers explore before finding the little nub, the little man in the boat, her clitoris. She shuddered hungrily and a tiny moan escaped her lips. Slowly he began to stroke it.
“Vingt!” Yvette screamed again at the blistering stroke, shaking her head from side to side. Her legs were trembling uncontrollably and threatening to buckle beneath her. “Vingt et un!” She threw back her head and howled deafeningly, her eyes red and swollen with tears, her make-up in ruined streaks down her cheeks. The pain in her nether regions had reached incandescent levels as if somebody was applying red hot coals to her flesh. She no longer registered that people were watching her humiliation and pain with deep absorption. Her entire consciousness had now narrowed to the loud swishing of the cane, Michelle’s monotonous tallying of the score and the searing pain from her buttocks and thighs. “Vingt deux!” Even her screams seemed to come from far away now as if it was somebody else other than she emitting them.
Among the transfixed spectators was little Sophie behind the bar. Sophie was the youngest of Madame Courvelle’s young ladies at the Cafe du Concorde and she was of a passionate nature and easily swayed by the temptations of the flesh. Although she was no great lover of feeling the cane on her own backside she enjoyed watching the other girls be caned and seeing the pretty little Mademoiselle Renard getting her rear toasted had excited her enormously. Hidden below the waist behind the bar she reached down to lift the hem of her short dress and slid her hand inside her knickers. Her sex was dripping wet and greedily she began to stroke herself. “Vingt trois....Vingt quatre....” Sophie gripped the edge of the bar to steady herself hoping that her panting and soft moans would not be audible above Yvette’s shrill screams. She leaned forward to crane her neck, the better to see Yvette’s bottom now admirably marked with livid scarlet welts. She shuddered violently as her arousal mounted. Roget had intimated that he might be able to sneak away later that night. He’d throw pebbles at the window of her room above the cafe to alert her and then she’d creep out and meet him in the back shed. She hoped he would come that night. If he did then he was in for a rare treat! Watching Yvette Renard’s appealing buttocks wriggling delightfully under the lash of the cane had induced particularly amorous urges in her. “Vingt cinq!” Sophie clamped her mouth shut lest her own passion betray her over Yvette’s wailing scream. She f***ed herself to still the urgent caresses of her fingers knowing that she was very close to orgasm. She fervently hoped Roget would come that night. If not well.... Sophie allowed herself a mental shrug. If he didn’t come then there was always an obvious and agreeable alternative. She would creep down the hallway to Michelle’s room. In common with all the girls at the Cafe du Concorde Sophie had a powerful libido and it mattered little to any of them whether they exercised it with a boy or a member of their own sex. Michelle was highly experienced and delightfully innovative in bed. Madame Courvelle was generally lenient about the girls playing with each other although she would have them caned once in a while for it just to keep them on their toes and remind them who was boss. Madame had told them that the petite Mademoiselle Renard might well be joining their ranks soon. Sophie hoped so. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on her!
“Vingt six....vingt sept.....vingt huit....” The beating was relentless; the waves of agony unbearable. Yvette was near to collapse. She had performed heroically in maintaining her position over the chair so far but she knew despairingly that it could not last. Sooner or later her legs would give beneath her. “Vingt neuf... trente... trente et un....” It was the thirty first stroke that broke her. It was, even among the high standards established by every stroke that preceded it, a particularly torturous blow, lancing into the already tenderised flesh of her upper thighs. With a loud keening wail Yvette’s legs turned to jelly and she collapsed to her knees and remained there sobbing copiously.
Throughout the beating Hanna’s expression had barely flickered. She had gone about her task with unmovable, dispassionate efficiency heedless of the howling screams of her victim. In examining it and wiping it between each stroke, it seemed almost as if she were more concerned about the welfare of her cane than the poor weeping wretch she was inflicting it upon. Now however she glared at Yvette in irritation, annoyed that her carefully paced rhythm had been so disrupted by Yvette’s inability to follow instructions. “Get up girl!” she commanded severely.
Yvette knelt abjectly on the floor crying piteously. “Please no! I... I can’t take any more! hurts!”
“It is meant to hurt you foolish girl! Now get up this instance and resume your position!”
“No please! I beg you! It hurts too much!”
Hanna waved the cane at her. “Get up and resume your position now or I shall give you extra for disobedience!”
Madame Courvelle interposed at this juncture. “Do as you are told Yvette or Hanna will certainly award you extra strokes for not following her orders.”
Yvette glanced miserably at Madame Courvelle but saw no mercy there. Sorrowfully she rose unsteadily to her feet, lifted her skirt back over her waist and bent once more back over the chair. Her knickers had slipped from her knees by now and now reposed in an untidy heap about her ankles. Hanna grunted in satisfaction, gave her cane a last wipe and raised it. With a vicious sweeping lash the caning commenced once more. “Trente deux!” remarked Michelle.
Leaning against the wall near the window with her arms folded, Bernadette watched the spectacle in deep satisfaction and shared similar thoughts to those of her colleague Sophie. “Welcome to the s****rhood Mademoiselle!” she murmured under her breath. You could hardly claim to be a fully paid up member of the sorority of the Cafe du Concorde without having been on the end of one of Hanna’s canings! Well this little sweetheart was paying her dues right enough! She’d not sit down for a week after this thrashing!
“Trente trois....trente quatre.... trente cinq....” Yvette’s screams had reached an ear piercing volume by now. Bernadette wondered idly in amusement if anybody outside was pausing on their way home to listen to the cacophony of manic screams emanating from the interior of the cafe. God knows they could hardly miss it! She was only a little thing this Yvette but she had a fine pair of lungs on her! She was probably keeping people awake on the far side of the square with her demented shrieks! For all Bernadette knew there was quite possibly a crowd gathered outside the cafe and applauding each howling wail! Whatever the truth, it was certain that it would be all over the village tomorrow that young Mademoiselle Renard had had her backside beaten good and sound in the Cafe du Concorde last night. If anyone was uncertain of the identity of the victim involved then as soon as Madame had this pretty little thing dressed up in the obligatory uniform to work in the cafe then all doubts would be removed! She’d be carrying those marks for weeks to come and as soon as she leant over a table to attend to her chores in her short dress then she’d be displaying the weals on her legs for all the world to see!
“Trente six.... trente sept.... trente huit.... trente neuf...” Michelle was nearly having to shout now so that her tally of the strokes was audible over Yvette’s screams. Bernadette admired Yvette’s shapely legs. They were pretty or at least they would be pretty once the contusions from the cane had healed. Like Sophie Bernadette anticipated the arrival of Yvette among their number with relish. Her current crop of dear s****rs was wonderful but there was a lot to be said for having fresh talent about the place. It was a shame Jeanette wasn’t here to witness this. She’d have enjoyed it. “Quarante....quarante et un.....quarante deux....” Bernadette grinned to herself. When this girl started working here, she and the other girls would have to get her alone in one of the back larders one day. They’d have her knickers down for a different purpose then and make her squeal to a different tune!
“Quarante trois.... quarante quatre.... quarante cinq....” The tally of strokes mounted inexorably. The fire in Yvette’s rear burned brighter with every lash. Yvette had a pretty face but, Michelle noted, it was not an attractive sight at the moment. It was red and distorted with pain and distress. Her cheeks were streaked black with mascara and eyeliner. Her eyes were red and swollen and her mouth gaped open almost comically as she screamed aloud with every stroke. Her face was wet with tears and there was a drop of mucous on the end of her nose. The ribbon in her hair had come adrift and her hair was a tangled mess as she threw her head about from side to side in the throes of her pain. “Quarante six....quarante sept....quarante huit.... quarante neuf....” Michelle continued. “Never mind little one.” she thought to herself. “We girls at the Cafe du Concorde know lots of ways to soothe poor little beaten things like you!”
“Cinqante!” declared Michelle firmly, announcing this milestone in the young girls caning. To the anguished Yvette squealing under its impact there was little if anything to distinguish this stroke from any other of the forty nine that had left their trace of agony across her scorched rear. Yet in the part of her brain that still retained some vestige of rational thought she heard Michelle call out the number with something approaching disbelief. Caned already to the edge of endurance and beyond it seemed hardly credible that she had only reached the half way point in her punishment. In despair she closed her eyes as Hanna raised the cane once more. “Cinquante et un!” announced Michelle. The second half of Yvette’s caning had begun.
Enjoying the scene with enormous pleasure was Madame Montagnon. She was experiencing the most tingling satisfaction with every stroke that coursed into the welted wasteland of Yvette’s tormented rear. She was delighted that the girl, after a brave start, was taking the beating so badly. Yvette’s loud screams were music to her ears. Madame Montagnon enjoyed the sight of young girls suffering. “Cinquante deux....cinquante trois....cinquante quatre....” Madame Montagnon would have been happy to see the wretched girl take two hundred strokes let alone one hundred! Her only regret was that she wasn’t wielding the cane herself. She yearned to feel the cane in her hand biting into that squirming backside. Sometimes when she held a soiree at her mansion Madame Courvelle would lend her the use of some of her girls to assist with the catering. She wondered if Madame would loan her this one some time, once the girl was working here. She shivered deliciously at the thought. “Cinquante cinq....cinquante six....cinquante sept....” Madame Montagnon glanced at her young male companion. His eyes were riveted on the convulsing body of the young girl shrieking as the cane strokes sliced into her rump. His excitement was plain to see; the bulge in his trousers enormous. Madame Montagnon allowed herself an indulgent smile. Many people thought the man her gigolo but, while it was true that she used him for pleasure from time to time, he was mostly there for camouflage. Her real tastes lay elsewhere. She would certainly have to indulge them tonight after this aperitif! Her two servant girls would be in bed asl**p by the time she got home. Well she would rouse them! She’d shake them out of bed the instance she got home, strip them of their nightclothes and take the birch out of the cupboard! They were due for a good thrashing! It must be months since the last time she’d taken the birch to them. If they petulantly asked why they were being birched she’d tell them to blame it all on Yvette Renard! When she’d finished birching them she’d lie back naked on the sofa with her legs open and they’d crawl across the carpet to nuzzle at her sex with their tongues until she was satisfied. She had her girls well trained. They knew what their mistress expected of them!
“Cinquante huit.... cinquante neuf....soixante.....” Inevitably now Hanna was running out of patches of unblemished skin on which to land her strokes. As a consequence therefore more and more of her blows were landing atop the welts left behind by previous strokes, doubling their agony. Perhaps it was this accumulation that caused Yvette to collapse under the relentless pain for a second time. Whatever the cause she buckled again and slipped to her knees. Hanna glared at her in outrage. “What do you think you are doing?” she demanded angrily.
“Pardonnez moi madame!” bleated Yvette pathetically. “I... I’m sorry.”
“Get back into position this instance!” Hanna ordered her.
“Oui Madame.” snivelled the weeping girl. “Pardonnez moi.” Painfully Yvette climbed back to her feet to d**** herself back over the chair, her chest heaving with her sobs as she lifted her skirt to expose her swollen rump for the cane once more.
Hanna was dissatisfied with Yvette’s apology. She shook the cane at her indignantly. “You have been warned already.” she told Yvette, “Five extra strokes!” She addressed Michelle curtly. “Do not count these strokes Michelle.”
“Non madame.”
For the five strokes Hanna abandoned her usual measured cadence and delivered the five strokes in a rapid tattoo, the cane blurring as she brought one stroke down in rapid succession after the other, giving Yvette no time to prepare herself for the next. Yvette arched her back and let out one long, ululating scream, frightful in its anguished despair. “Let that be a lesson.” Hanna told her. “If I have to interrupt this punishment another time you’ll get an extra ten! Do you understand?” Yvette moaned pitiably and could only nod her head feebly. “Very well,” declared Hanna wiping her cane. “Where were we Michelle?”
“Soixante madame.”
“Then we shall continue from there.”
She raised the cane again. “Soixante et un!” Michelle noted to the accompaniment of Yvette’s scream.
The blond girl on the artist’s knee was becoming more and more aroused at the spectacle of Yvette’s caning and the stroking of her companion between her legs. She was squirming alarmingly on his knee and panting audibly as his fingers rubbed her clitoris in little circles. Her increasing excitement was becoming evident to the other occupants of the cafe and several people tore their eyes away from Yvette’s caning to glance in her direction and raise amused eyebrows as she laid her head back and half closed her eyes, very near to climax. “Soixante deux....soixante trois.... soixante quatre....soixante cinq....soixante six....” The girl was moaning loudly now and the other guests exchanged amused glances with each other. She was shaking violently and little cries were emerging from her throat. “Soixante sept....soixante huit....soixante neuf.... soixante dix....” Suddenly the girl stiffened rigidly and opened her mouth wide to emit a loud wail. Everybody in the room turned to stare at her and, as her orgasm climaxed, the artist felt a sudden flood of hot liquid gush from her privates soaking her knickers and skirt and seeping through to dampen the artist’s trousers. A pool of clear liquid appeared on the floor beneath her. The girl’s messy orgasm grabbed the attention of everybody in the room and there were amused chuckles all round. Even Hanna’s rhythm was interrupted and she turned to stare at the girl in surprise. The only person in the room that didn’t register the girl’s orgasm was Yvette but she was hardly fully about her senses by this time. The only reality in her universe was the great throbbing misery from her rear portions which in her fevered imagination she pictured as some huge swollen scarlet mass of lancing pain dwarfing the rest of her body. She barely even registered that the caning had halted temporarily. She just hung limply over her chair and keened softly in pain. The artist glanced around at the other guests as his companion buried her face in his shoulder, her chest heaving. He shrugged at the other guests and smiled, holding up a palm in a gesture of resignation. The guests laughed with him good humouredly. Hanna just shook her head disgustedly and turned back to the matter in hand. “Soixante et onze!” declared the smirking Michelle.
Sophie had seen the blond girl come all over her friend’s trousers and leave a mess on the floor and it whipped her own excitement into a new urgency. Her hand had been in her knickers for several minutes now fingering at her sex and she was craving relief. Poor Yvette’s bottom was swollen terribly now with raised welts. Sophie longed to be able to caress it and soothe the girl’s pain with soft kisses. As she thought about it her fingers quickened at her sex. “Soixante douze....soixante treize.... soixante quatorze....” Sophie herself was very near to orgasm now but she caught Madame Courvelle glancing in her direction and she dared not disgrace herself unless she longed to be the next person bending over that chair! “Soixante quinze....soixante seize... soixante dix-sept....” The accumulative effect of strokes landing on top of each other was showing the inevitable consequences by now. There were small specks of scarlet moisture appearing on Yvette’s bottom where the skin had broken under the impact of the cane and a little trickle of bl**d was seeping down her right thigh from the accumulated strokes to the backs of her legs. For some reason this excited Sophie very much indeed. She was not by nature as cruel girl but now she wanted to see Yvette bleed! “Soixante dix-huit.... soixante dix-neuf....” There was another trickle of bl**d; from the centre of her buttocks this time and Sophie’s stroking at her crutch became more frenzied.
Yvette seemed to have lost the strength to squirm any more. She just lay limply over the chair twitching each time the cane smote her swollen flesh. Even her screams had lost their earlier piercing quality and had given way to one, more or less continuous, wailing moan. Hanna was wiping her cane more diligently now as if to cleanse it of the contamination of Yvette’s bl**d on its pristine surface. “Quatre vingt!” said Michelle and Sophie could take it no longer. Hoping that no one would notice her she ducked down behind the bar and, clamping a hand across her mouth to stifle her cry, she rubbed herself to orgasm. It was the second messy orgasm of that night but that was characteristic of Sophie and she was well known for it. The other girls called her their “little squirt” and it wasn’t just a reference to her size. She pulled her dress out of the way hastily as she came but her knickers were drenched and a second puddle of scandalous origin was added to the floor of the Cafe du Concorde that night. Quickly she tried to dry the puddle with a tissue before adjusting her dress and standing back up into view as nonchalantly as she could manage. Her efforts were futile for the first thing she saw as she looked around was Madame Courvelle looking straight at her in strong disapproval. Sophie swallowed guiltily. A swish of the cane, a crack against Yvette’s buttocks and another frenzied moaning cry was punctuated by Michelle. “Quatre vingt un!” Madame Courvelle was frowning at Sophie. Sophie felt the bl**d rush to her cheeks and her throat become dry, knowing that the next person to be singing a tune to Hanna’s cane would certainly be herself.
“Quatre vingt deux!” If Yvette’s bottom had attracted Sophie it was another part of her anatomy that Michelle was finding appealing. She couldn’t actually see Yvette’s bottom from her position in front of the suffering girl although she could well imagine what sort of a state it was in by now. It was Yvette’s breasts that held her attention though. Somehow during her ordeal the top buttons of Yvette’s dress had come undone or possibly even fallen off and in her bent over position she was affording Michelle a wonderful view down her front at her ripe young breasts. For such a small girl Yvette had quite large breasts and they wobbled most enticingly every time her body jerked under the impact of the cane. Her right breast even seemed to have fallen partly out of her bra. Michelle could see the nipple quite clearly. Oddly it was erect. Michelle smiled to herself. In spite of the agony of the cane it was not at all unusual to see signs of arousal in a girl being beaten. It was a better than evens bet that if you pushed a hand between Mademoiselle Renard’s legs right now you would find her sex swollen and moist! Michelle wondered about the psychology of that. She didn’t know. What she did know was that although she hated being caned and the pain of it she was always like a bitch on heat afterwards and inflamed with lust. She rather hoped the same was true of Mademoiselle Renard here. There must be some way to get her alone afterwards and get that dress off her. “Quatre vingt trois....quatre vingt quatre....quatre vingt cinq....”
Yvette endured the end game of her caning in a barely conscious daze. A red mist had descended before her eyes. She was hallucinating too. She was staring fixated at the pattern on the cover of the chair beneath her eyes. The pattern seemed to be moving, organising itself into shapes that resembled throbbing buttocks. “Quatre vingt six....quatre vingt sept....qutre vingt huit....” Yvette no longer had the strength to scream. Her throat was sore and swollen from her screaming anyway. She felt limp and sodden like a piece of tenderised meat. Her backside and her legs were just one solid wall of aching agony by now and the cane just stirred it up a little more but it had lost its earlier excruciating sting as if her body had reached a threshold of pain beyond which it could go no further. “Quatre vingt neuf....quatre vingt dix... qeutre vingt onze....” The numbers were meaningless to her now. Time seemed to have stopped still as if all there had ever been in her existence was the relentless pain in her hind quarters punctuated and inflamed by the rhythmical periodic explosion of the cane against her flesh. “Quatre vingt douze....quatre vingt treize... quatre vingt quatorze...” The room was deathly still now as if everybody was holding their breath and wishing her through these final strokes. “Quatre vingt quinze...quatre vingt seize... quatre vingt dix-sept....” Through the bottomless agony of her rear Yvette could feel dampness on her legs. The significance of it never registered on her brain; she never realised that she was bleeding from her caning or that the cane now was raising a little pink mist each time it sliced into her damaged skin. “Quatre vingt dix-huit.... quatre vingt dix neuf....” For the last time Hanna raised her cane. The stroke was just as hard as every other had been. “CENT!” declared Michelle in triumphant finality.
Hanna stood back displaying as much emotion as she had managed throughout the caning. She looked disappointed! At the conclusion of the caning there was a collective exhalation from the guests who had held their breath over the final strokes of Yvette’s ordeal. A murmur of voices began and then, extraordinarily, a ripple of applause although whether that was in appreciation of Hanna’s performance with the cane or Yvette’s endurance of it was difficult to discern. Yvette lay like a rag doll over the back of the chair weeping softly and not understanding that her ordeal was over. “You may stand up now Yvette.” Madame Courvelle told her. “Your punishment is over.” Through the mist of her pain Yvette registered the words and slowly in robotic fashion began to straighten up. Madame Courvelle addressed Hanna. “I think a few minutes to let the lesson sink in don’t you agree Hanna?”
“Oui Madame.” Hanna turned to Yvette. “Hold your skirt up girl! You’ll get it dirty otherwise.” Yvette’s rear was still streaming with bl**d. Hanna stepped over to assist her and for one frightful moment it seemed as if Yvette would fall as she tried to stand, so shaky was she on her legs. “Here tuck your skirt into your belt like this.” Hanna told her, helping her to comply. Hanna turned the chair around that Yvette had spent the best part of the last twenty minutes bent over. “Kneel on the chair girl! No leave your knickers where they are! Kneel up straight now and put your hands behind your head.” Numbly Yvette obeyed, without the will left in her to protest; her humiliation completed by her submissive position on the chair displaying her naked beaten rear for the prolonged examination of all present. “Now stay there without moving until Madame gives you leave to do otherwise.”
Madame Courvelle picked the empty bottle off her table. “I think another bottle of this if you please Michelle. You other girls, see to our guests. They must be thirsty by now.” The hum of conversation returned to the room only more animated now as the guests began to discuss the remarkable spectacle they had been privileged to witness. It would be a long tale in the telling. Yvette Renard’s caning in the Cafe du Concorde would be the talk of the village for months to come and still retold years later. Some people even got out of their seats on a pretext the better to approach Yvette for a closer look at the swollen mass that had once been the unsullied pristine flesh of her buttocks and thighs. Through it all Yvette remained motionless on her chair, crying silently now and more wretched and miserable than she had ever been in her short and uneventful life.
Madame Courvelle left Yvette kneeling on the stool for fifteen minutes while her girls replenished her guests’ drinks. Finally she relented. “You may get down now Yvette.” she said, at last, not unkindly. “Come over here girl. No don’t bother pulling your knickers up. I want to take a look at your bottom. In fact take your knickers off altogether. You’ll trip over them otherwise.” Clumsily Yvette pulled her knickers off and, carrying them in her hand, stepped over obediently to Madame Courvelle. “Turn around Yvette and let me see your bottom. You can put your knickers on the table” Mechanically Yvette turned to afford Madame Courvelle the view of her aching tender rear. Madame Courvelle examined the damage with concern. Hanna had certainly done a thorough job on this young lady! Yvette’s behind was a swollen lattice of contusions from the tops of her buttocks nearly down to the sinews above her knees. She’d be carrying these marks around with her for a good while to come! She wouldn’t be sitting down too comfortably for a few days either. Well that was no bad thing if it reminded her of her lesson! Well she’d have plenty to keep her mind off it and little time for sitting anyway. There was no reason at all why she couldn’t start work tomorrow. She’d be busy enough learning the ropes of her new job to keep her mind off her woes. Madame Courvelle frowned, wondering if she had a maids’ dress to fit her. Perhaps one of Sophie’s would fit her. They were both small girls. It would do at least perhaps until she could have a pair or two made to fit her.
She reached out to feel the swollen flesh of Yvette’s bottom. Yvette flinched at the touch, so tender was that region now. At least she had stopped bleeding now Madame Courvelle noted with relief. Her skin hadn’t split that badly. She very much doubted that there would any permanent scarring. All the same perhaps it would be better to have one of the girls take her upstairs to bathe her welts and put some ointment on them. In fact, come to that, it was no bad idea for the girls to make a bed up for her for the night. She was in no fit state to walk home alone. Madame Courvelle had no illusions about the young ladies in her employ and doubtless they’d be sniffing around the pretty young girl like truffle pigs on a hot scent once they had her to themselves in their rooms upstairs! Well that was no bad thing either. They would be kind to her and she could use a little loving kindness tonight. It would be better for her not to have to sl**p alone and dwell upon her sorrows. In fact thought Madame Courvelle, a new idea occurring to her, it would be better all round if they made her residence here more or less permanent. There were several empty rooms they were not using they could convert into a bedroom for her. She didn’t consider it healthy for a young girl of Yvette’s years to be living alone with an aging aunt. She was isolated up that end of the village and had hardly any friends at all locally. She’d be far better off with young people her own age and, if she lived here at the cafe, it would be far easier for Madame Courvelle to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t go off the rails again. In her own mind Madame Courvelle had already adopted Yvette. Well they could talk about all this in the morning.
“Turn around Yvette.” After she had obeyed Madame Courvelle handed her a tissue. “Now be a good girl and wipe your face.” As Yvette tried to repair the damage to her appearance Madame Courvelle looked her in the eye. “Now I hope you’ve learned your lesson Yvette.” Yvette nodded dumbly. “Good girl! Now I’m sorry that this has had to happen to you Yvette but I want you to remember that I only had you caned because I care about you. I think we both know what the alternative was. Well a sore bottom will disappear a lot faster than a criminal record on your file will and when the swelling dies down you’ll thank me for this.”
Yvette nodded bleakly and whispered, “Oui Madame. Merci Madame.”
“That’s alright Yvette. You’re a good girl and I have every hope for you. Now I want you to stay here for the night. I don’t want you going home on your own. One of the girls will make up a bed for you and perhaps put something on your bottom to ease the pain. Is that alright with you?”
“Oui Madame.” repeated Yvette, in a small voice.
“Excellent. That’s settled then. We can start to discuss your future in the morning.” Madame Courvelle looked around. Now who would be best to see to Yvette? Her gimlet eye caught sight of Sophie. Well not that little madam for one! She was in far too frisky a mood tonight and making an exhibition of herself behind the bar! Well she was one more problem to deal with in the morning! She and Yvette could compare the bruises on their bottoms after Hanna had finished with her! She caught sight of Michelle. Perfect! She beckoned her over. “Michelle dear you are excused for the rest of the night. Yvette will be staying the night with us and I want you to run a bath and make up the spare bed in your room for her.”
“But of course Madame.” Michelle assured her, careful to keep the triumph out of her voice.
“Good. And put some ointment on her bottom before you put her to bed Michelle.”
“Oui Madame.” Michelle kept her face neutral but she was delighted with the way things were going. No doubt the other girls would be wanting to creep in and share the delights of young Mademoiselle Renard. Well she would lock the door and they could wait their turn! This little one was all hers tonight!
“Good.” said Madame Courvelle. “Now pull your dress down and run along with Michelle Yvette. We’ll speak at more length in the morning.”
Michelle smiled and took Yvette’s hand. “Come along Yvette. You’ll feel better for a hot bath and a good night’s sl**p. I’ve got a box of chocolate liqueurs in my room we can share as well.” Docilely Yvette allowed herself to be led away by the hand. Madame Courvelle watched them go with enormous satisfaction. Oh yes they would talk in the morning alright! The girl hadn’t even blinked when she’d told her that they’d discuss her future in the morning as if she already tacitly acknowledged the fact that Madame Courvelle was her future now! And of course she was! Madame Courvelle had great plans for the precious little Yvette Renard. There was a great future ahead of her!
Madame Courvelle caught sight of Yvette’s knickers still lying on the table. The silly girl had completely forgotten to take them with her! Well no matter. She wouldn’t need them tonight in any case. Madame Courvelle picked up the simple cotton garment and regarded it with distaste. Well these would never do! She liked to dress her girls in the finest silk or satin lingerie. She’d have a rummage about in the morning to see if she could find something more suitable for Yvette to pull on over her aching bottom. Then she’d see about buying her some more frivolous and feminine underwear. Madame Courvelle sat back with a smile. At least then the next time she was obliged to bend over the chair with her skirts hitched up she’d have something more becoming to pull down! For of one fact Madame Courvelle was certain. She was sure that the other girls were certain of it as well and most probably everybody else in this cafe tonight. In fact, possibly the only person it hadn’t occurred to yet was Yvette herself since the implications of tonight’s performance would be yet to sink in. The fact was this; Yvette Renard might have just endured her first caning at the Cafe du Concorde but it would certainly not be her last!

... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex, Voyeur  |  Views: 952  |  
  |  3

The Salon sluts part 1

It was almost noon as John returned to his office downtown. As he reflected on the events of the morning, his thoughts turned to Suzanne. He imagined her at his beck and call. He would enjoy this new challenge, as unlike his usual playthings, this one was married. Somehow, manipulating another man’s wife made it seem all the more stimulating.
As he walked past Jennifer, he couldn’t help but stop and tease her about her appearance. John enjoyed watching her squirm, especially knowing that she longed for his affection. He had purposely manipulated her weak little mind to follow his suggestions to the letter, although she hadn’t a clue as to exactly why.
It had been six months since he first suggested that she would look better with lighter hair and a bit more makeup. She had impulsively had it highlighted on her lunch hour the following day and returned to work wondering what had come over her. Her natural dark, Spanish hair had resisted the harsh chemicals, leaving it with reddish orange highlights running through it. She tried to apologize to John for her impulsive act, but instead of being angry, he assured her that she was definitely on the right track and she should insist they redo it and next time leave the bleach on longer.
The following day she returned from lunch with bright, golden highlights in her hair and an unexplainable desire to do what ever it takes to make John happy. From there, he had systematically chipped away at her old values and replaced her conservative tastes in dress and makeup with those that he found to be desirable. Slowly, the golden highlights gave way to a much paler, heavily frosted look that he knew Jennifer hated.
As time went on, her hair received its first real overall bleach job, or as john called it, “The awakening of her sexuality.” It was at this stage that John began to require her to go for extended periods of time between retouches, urging her to go lighter each time he allowed her to retouch her roots. He also delighted in requiring her to wear her hair parted down the middle with two ponytails sticking out from each side of her head, tied with big pink bows. He knew she hated the ‘bimbo’ look and he enjoyed her obvious embarrassment.
He reached over the reception counter and tugged playfully on one of her ponytails.
“I’d say it’s about time you bleached those unsightly dark roots of yours wouldn’t you?” He teased.
Jennifer blushed. “I was hoping you would tell me to retouch my roots soon.” She purred. She knew John liked the contrast between her natural black hair and the yellow bleached look that he urged her to display, but it made her feel like such a slut. She was always relieved when John suggested she visit the salon.
“Call Suzanne Pennington and have her come back in this afternoon for her final interview, then you can have the afternoon off to take care of your hair.”
“Thank you Sir.” She said gratefully. “I’ll get Miss Pennington on the phone.”
“It’s Mrs. Pennington. Oh, and Jennifer, Lets bleach it a little lighter again this time, okay?”
Jennifer’s heart sank. She had already been told that her hair was becoming damaged from all the bleaching. Her hairdresser had almost refused the last time she asked him to make it lighter.
“But Sir, She pleaded, “Jerome said last time, that I wouldn’t be able to go any lighter. He didn’t even want to take my hair this light.”
“Nonsense, Jennifer.” John said smiling. “I see women all the time with hair bleached a lot lighter than yours. Now you tell this Jerome guy that you want your hair bleached much lighter this time. Do you understand?”
Jennifer nodded, sheepishly.
“When you come in tomorrow, I don’t want to see any yellow in that hair at all. I don’t want to see any COLOR in it at all. I want to see it platinum blonde. You Spanish chicks look really hot with your dark eyes and that really white bleached hair. Believe me, you’ll thank me when you see how sexy it looks. Oh and Jennifer, if he can’t do it, you call me. I know someone who can.”
As john left the reception area, he heard Jennifer pushing the buttons on her phone. He entered his office as he heard her say, “Mrs. Pennington?”

An hour later, Suzanne Pennington entered the reception area to find John sitting behind the big oval reception desk.
“Where’s what’s her name?” She asked, with a catty smirk.
“You mean Jennifer?” He replied with a wink. “I gave her the afternoon off to go do something with her hair.”
“Thank God!” Suzanne snapped. “She looks like such a slut with all that makeup and fake blonde hair. Certainly not the type of first impression I would want to make if I owned this business.”
John grinned to himself as he ushered Suzanne in to his office. He had already fantasized about the potential he saw in the typical career minded businesswoman who insisted he call her ‘Suzanne’.
As he sat behind his desk, he surveyed his latest challenge. She was older than most of his conquests, probably mid thirties, he figured. She had a pleasant face, lightly made-up with button earrings and a pearl necklace. Her brown hair was cut into a conservative chin length pageboy and tucked back behind her ears. The color was obviously natural.
He watched her thick natural eyebrows raise, causing wrinkles in her forehead whenever she was stressing a point. John found this intriguing, as she was obviously trying to impress him with her confidence and professionalism. Her dark skirt hung to the middle of her calf and she made a point of continually smoothing it down as she spoke.
John decided to make his move.
“Ah, Suzanne?” he said with a grin. “Would you mind doing me a little favor?”
“What kind of a favor?” she said, in an apprehensive voice.
“I went to the Eye Doctor earlier this morning and he said I had a small hemorrhage in the Iris of one of my eyes. Quite frankly, I’ll be damned if I can see it. Would you mind looking into my eyes? Maybe you can see the damned thing.”
Suzanne looked skeptical, but agreed. After all, she did want this job. “Besides”, she thought to herself, “What could it hurt?”
As she gazed intently into his eyes, suddenly she was overcome by a strange feeling. For some reason, she found herself powerless to look away. She fought the urge within her, but it was too late. John was already deep inside her mind ravaging her subconscious thoughts. Soon, she would awaken to a new life. Suzanne was about to become ‘Suzi’.
John wasted no time in rearranging Suzanne’s priorities. He made sure that she found him to be the sexiest man on earth. She would become obsessed with sl**ping with him. She would resist, but could not refuse his suggestions, no matter what they were. John could feel the resistance within her strong will, but his brain was superior and as always, her brain was no match.
She jerked her head, as she suddenly heard her name.
“Suzi?” he said again, softly.
She looked at him defiantly. “It’s Suzanne!” she snapped.
“I like Suzi better” he said, as he ushered her to the big overstuffed chair in front of his desk.
She looked confused as she sat down. How was it that she had never noticed how attractive he was before? She tried to dismiss the thoughts that were going through her mind. This was ridiculous. She was a happily married woman, wasn’t she?
John could sense the conflict going on within her. He decided to get started by imposing a few suggestions.
“Suzi, you’re a very beautiful woman. I find it very sad that you don’t make the most of the resources that God has given you.”
Suzanne felt herself beginning to blush.
“What do you mean?” she asked, hoping to hear the obvious.
“Well, it’s just that you are hiding behind all those clothes and with a little makeup, well, you could really be a knockout.
Suzanne fought the urge to tell this man to go to hell, but for some reason, she found his suggestions to be somehow, flattering.
“Well, I’ve never been one to wear a lot of makeup, Mr. Fabian. And as far as my clothes go, well I like to maintain a professional image.”
“Please call me John.” He said, with a smile. " Now Suzi, I want you to take the rest of the day and do a little shopping.”
“What kind of shopping, Sir?”
As the sound of her own voice began to register what she had just said, she realized she had just called her new boss “Sir”. For some reason, it seemed very natural.
“I want you to buy some clothes for work. Something a little more revealing would be nice. Then come back here and we’ll talk about dinner”
Her immediate reaction was to refuse, but instead, she heard herself thanking him and promising that he would not be disappointed. What had come over her? The congestion between her legs made her realize her sudden urge to masturbate. She found this to be very odd, since she hadn’t masturbated since high school.
As she left the office, she stopped by the ladies room and once inside, quickly locked herself in a stall. She wasted no time in lowering her panties and proceeded to pummel her clitoris with her middle finger. She heard her own breathing becoming labored and heavy. All she could think about was John’s huge cock, sliding in and out of her womanhood. She saw herself arching her back, forcing her clitoris hard against his pelvic bone. She was confused. She hardly knew this man and she felt uncontrollable guilt as she fantasized about him fucking her. Her impending orgasm consumed her, as she rode her finger to a shattering climax.
After she had regained her composure, she found herself staring into the restroom mirror. She reached back and pulled the hair from behind her ears, shaking her head and allowing her hair to fall freely, hugging her face. Her face flushed as she thought back on what she had just done.

At the Mall, she was again confused, as she walked into The Honeymoon Boutique. She was supposed to be shopping for work clothes, yet for some reason, these clothes seemed appropriate. She found herself in the casual wear and was busy trying on all sorts of short skirts and sexy tops. For some reason, the thought of how she was going to explain this all to her husband never occurred to her. She paid for her purchases with her Credit Card and left, humming merrily to herself.
At 3:30, she waltzed back into the reception area, wearing a black leather mini skirt with a white angora halter-top. She was having trouble walking in her new four-inch heels and she found herself blushing as John approached her.
“Turn around, my dear.” He said, as he made a twirling motion with his finger. “You look very nice. That’s definitely more like it.”
Obediently, Suzi turned around, feeling as if she were on display, as John’s eyes studied her intently.
“Were you in a hurry?” He said, as he focused his eyes on her face.
“No, not really, Sir. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that you’ve forgotten to add a little makeup. I think it would finish your look nicely, don’t you?”
“Oh no, Sir, I wasn’t in a hurry. My husband doesn’t like me to wear makeup.”
“Nonsense, Suzi. All men like makeup on their women. Now, I want you to take some more time and shop for some cosmetics. Oh, and while your out, do you have a particular hair salon that you go to?”
Suzi looked puzzled. “Why, no I don’t. I trim my own hair, just the ends. My husband likes me to wear it like this.”
“Yes, of course, well I think we should do something about those eyebrows, don’t you? I have a friend, here is her name and the address. She will help you with your makeup and I’ll arrange to have her take care of those brows.”
As Suzi watched John writing down the information, her mind was racing. Why was she allowing herself to be manipulated in this fashion? She had only met this man yesterday and so far, he had taken more interest in her appearance than her own husband. Her urge to refuse hung over her heavily, but she just couldn’t bring herself to say the words. As he handed her the name and address, she accepted it politely and folded it, putting it into her purse.

As Suzi entered the upscale salon, a rather heavily made-up lady greeted her. Her bleached blonde hair was teased out and combed into a face hugging style, she looked like a picture of sin.
“Hi, you must be Suzi. My name is Barbi.”
As Suzi reached out to shake her hand, she could almost hear her own heart pounding. What was she doing here? And how could she let this tart have control over her appearance?
Suzi was quickly ushered to a salon chair and d****d with a plastic cape. Barbi had already received instructions from John and wasted no time in beginning Suzi’s makeover.
“What’s in the bowl?” Suzi asked, as Barbi reached for a large piece of aluminum foil.
“We’re gonna do a little strand test.” She stated as if Suzi should already know.
“What’s a strand test?”
“You’ll see soon enough.” Barbi said as she combed out a rather large section of hair right in the front of Suzi’s forehead. She was careful to include an inch on each side of Suzi’s center parting and continuing about an inch back from her hairline. She laid the hair on the aluminum foil and painted it heavily with some thick blue cream. Then she folded the foil in half and folded each side over to enclose the entire lock, rolling it up, leaving it to dangle on Suzi’s forehead.
As Suzi sat wondering, Barbi leaned the chair back and proceeded to remove most of her eyebrows with quick jerks from a pair of tweezers. When she was finished, Suzi’s untamed eyebrows consisted of two rather heavy teardrops quickly tapering up into thin high arches. After applying a pair of long false eyelashes, she then applied several coats of thick black eyeliner to both her top and bottom eyelids. Pale blue sparkle eye shadow was then applied from her eyelids all the way up to her thin, black penciled, eyebrows. For a finishing touch, her lips were painted with John’s favorite bright shiny red lipstick.
Suzi was then placed under a hood type hair dryer for the remainder of the 90-minute processing time. As she sat daydreaming about John, she again felt herself becoming wet. Meanwhile, another girl was busy applying long acrylic fingernails to her hands, finishing them in the same bright red polish as her lips. How could this be happening to her?
Finally, the bell went off and Barbi quickly ushered Suzi to the shampoo bowl where she proceeded to remove the foil and wash and condition her hair. She purposely faced the chair away from the mirror as she dried Suzi’s hair, brushing it into the familiar style that Suzi was accustomed to.
When she swung the chair around, Suzi gasped, as she hardly recognized herself. She looked like a total slut, heavily made up with two broad streaks of bleached hair streaming from the center of her forehead down both cheeks, ending just under her chin. The contrast next to her natural dark brown hair and brows made the streaks look that much lighter. How could she be seen looking like this? As she studied herself, suddenly a calm came over her. She remembered John and how he had suggested she come here. She was certain he would approve. Suddenly, that’s all that mattered.
Barbi told Suzi that John had called and made reservations for dinner at Kelly’s. She was to meet him there at 6:30. She asked to use the phone to call her husband.
Suddenly she was overcome with panic. “My God!” she thought. “My husband! How am I ever going to explain this to my husband!”
Luckily, he wasn’t home when she called and she was able to leave a message on the answering machine. She would have time to think of something, but for now, all she could think about was John.

She arrived at the restaurant at 6:25 and found John at the bar, sitting with another woman. The woman quickly excused herself and John led Suzi to a private suite in the rear of the restaurant.
“You look wonderful.” He said, as he guided her into her chair.
She fought the urge to display her jealousy and smiled, thanking him for the compliment.
John reached out and gently stroked the newly blonded lock of hair running down her left cheek.
“I like the hair.” He said with a wink. “Would you care for a cigarette?”
John hated women that smoked and from his conversation that afternoon, he knew Suzi hated the habit too. But, Suzanne had come on so high and mighty during her initial interview, he had decided to add another conflict to her growing list of new issues. Besides, he had no intention of allowing her to continue. He only wanted to get her started so he would have something else to take away from her.
“Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” Suzi said blushing.
“I don’t either.” Said John, “But I sometimes find it very sexy when a woman does.”
He held out a pack of cigarettes. “Here take one.”
“No really, Thank you, but I think smoking is a nasty habit. I would never want to start.”
“Yes it is rather nasty and also very addictive, especially these unfiltered Pall Malls. Now, take one and let’s get you started.”
Suzi found it impossible to fight the urge to refuse any longer and reluctantly, pulled a cigarette from the pack with her long fingernails.
“Very good, now put it between your lips, holding it by just the tips of your first two fingers. Close the rest of your hand.”
“That’s it.” He praised. “Ah yes, very sexy.”
Suzi watched half dazed, as John flicked the lighter and slowly held the flame against the cigarette now held between her lips.
“Now do exactly as I tell you. Now, slowly draw the smoke into your mouth until I tell you to stop.”
As he watched the end of the cigarette begin to glow, he purposely waited until he was sure that her mouth was completely full of the potent, unfiltered smoke.
“Now remove the cigarette from your lips and hold the smoke in your mouth. It will taste bitter at first, but soon you won’t care. it’s the effect that you’ll be after.”
Suzi followed John’s instructions, all the while wondering, what the hell she was doing.
John continued. “When I tell you when, I want you to open your mouth wide and inhale the smoke deeply into your lungs. Keep your mouth open and hold the smoke in your lungs until I count to five.”
As he nodded his head, Suzi opened her mouth and inhaled deeply, causing the smoke to roll back and disappear down her throat. A deep sensation gripped her as it entered her virgin lungs. Her eyes grew wide as she obediently held in the smoke.
Calmly, John said, “Okay Suzi, now I want you to purse your lips and exhale the smoke hard, in a nice, feminine thin stream.”
Obediently, Suzi formed a tight little ‘O’ with her painted lips, lifted her head and blew the smoke high into the air.
“Very sexy.” John said in a condescending tone. “Now let’s do it again.”
Suzi repeated the process a second and third time before she complained of feeling sick and dizzy.
John purposely ignored her complaints and required her to continue until he was content that she had succumbed to the full effects of the Nicotine.
“That’s enough for now.” John said with satisfaction. “As soon as you start to feel better, I guarantee you’ll be asking me for another one.”
John ordered a full meal while a very queasy Suzy sat sipping her coffee, trying to feel better.
The sight of food made her stomach churn, but slowly, she began to feel better and soon she found herself craving another cigarette.
“John?” she said sheepishly.
“Yes, Suzi?”
“You were right, I’d like to try smoking again.”
“No, I’m afraid not, Suzi. I’ve changed my mind. I would prefer it if you didn’t smoke after all.”
“Please, John?”
Shaking his head, John removed his rock hard cock from his pants. “No, Suzi. Here, suck on this instead.”
Suzi rationalized that if she pleased John, he would surely give her another cigarette, that she now craved so badly. She dropped to her knees and took his fifth member into her warm, wet mouth.
John gazed down at the sight before him. The heavy makeup. The bleached streaks against her dark, virgin hair. She was becoming a quite the little slut, her head bobbing up and down while her hand pounded away on his thick shaft. Within minutes, he stopped fighting the urge to prolong his ecstasy and allowed himself to pump his manhood into her hungry mouth and down her throat.
She looked up at him with loving eyes. “Now can I have another cigarette?”
“No Suzi.” John repeated in a stern tone. “You know, I think I really like the blonde in your hair. In fact, I think you should do a little more next time.”
Suzi felt strangely violated. She knew her husband would give her a hard time about the new blonde streaks. She actually dreaded going home.
“What am I supposed to tell my husband?” she asked with a concerned look on her face.
“Suzi, when you get home tonight, I want you to give your husband a nice blowjob.” He said with a devilish grin. “That should calm him down. Then he’ll agree to anything.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I’ve never done that to anyone before. I really don’t know what got into me.”
“Nonsense! All men like blowjobs.” John snapped. “Now enough. I want you to give the man a blowjob. And I want you to tell me all about it the next time I see you. Now, go on home, like a good little wife.”
Suzi slowly got up off her knees and gave John a pleading look.
“Go on.” He said curtly. “I want you to start tomorrow. Jennifer will get you started. I’ll be in late.”
Silently she turned and walked out of the suite.

Life was indeed good. On his way home he wondered how she would face her husband and if she stopped at a convenience store for a pack of cigarettes. Then his thoughts moved to Sheila and the morning. He needed to get some sl**p and get his strength back. It had been a long day.
... Continue»
Posted by mrwolf75 2 months ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Mature  |  Views: 7238  |  
  |  5

The Ghost on Forest Lane

On Forest Lane a ghost resides,
who in the darkness howls and cries.
In moonless night he strolls outside,
to find a victim for his plight.

A careless soul he’ll bind and tow,
into his basement down below.
To use his soul for better or worse
to find a way, to break the curse

This silly rhyme was told to scare the young c***dren of the town of Woodbury. Fifty

years ago a tragic event had occurred in the quiet town with their sl**py inhabitant.

The local doctor had died in a ‘tragic accident’ as it was communicated by the s****r

of the doctor.

Woodbury was a very small town, almost forgotten by time; it crawled its way into

history minding its own business. Surrounded by hills, hidden in a valley, the town

could indeed have easily been overlooked by time as it hurried its way forward. There

was, however, one peculiar f****y that occasionally had managed to speed up the

heartbeat of the inhabitants.

This particular f****y was the Vandergeest f****y. They lived in a big Victorian house

on the edge of town and as it were, this house was the residence of the town’s only

doctor. But besides the fact that for generations the f****y had brought forth the town’s

doctor, there was something else the f****y was well known for: extravagant parties.

The amount of food that was served, the music, the decorations, there was no doubt

that the f****y spent a lot of money on each party. And when the mood is good and the

alcohol is flowing richly, things sometimes just happen, someone would get

overfriendly with his married neighbour, or the handsome tailor’s son would sneak off

into a quiet corner with the baker’s daughter. It all didn’t matter, because it was said

that what happened between the grey walls of the house should remain there. And

although gossiping was a popular pastime in the small town, especially for the elderly,

people seemed to abide by this unspoken rule for fear of not being invited to the next


When Frederik, the only son of the f****y, had just graduated and was officially a

doctor, he assisted his father until his father had enough confidence in his son’s ability

to let Frederik run the doctor’s practice by himself. Father and mother went on a trip by

car leaving Frederik and his younger s****r, Catherine, at home. They hadn’t been on

holiday since grandfather died, leaving them with no grandparents. Then disaster

struck. While crossing a railroad in misty weather, a freight train unexpectedly came

thundering down the hill. The car was ripped apart: a mere piece of paper for the train

as it collided with the car with unstoppable f***e, killing off its passengers.

When the news reached Woodbury, the whole town went into mourning and for a year

no parties were held. But after a year passed by, Frederik decided that to keep the

memory of their parents - their f****y - alive, he should continue the tradition and soon

invitations went round for another party. His s****r did not share the same idea and

refrained from attending the parties. Instead she locked herself up in her room during

these parties.

On the 31st of October, 1960, Halloween, another party was held. The party was, as

always, merry and entertaining, and people went home satisfied. The following

morning, however, news went around the town that a terrible accident has happened

inside the house. Apparently, Frederik had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck.

When the town heard that the f****y had been struck by a tragic accident yet again, it

was received with great horror and disbelief. But as the s****r kept all the details of

this tragic event quiet, soon a rumour started to spread that it wasn’t an accident at all.

Wild speculations of what really happened that day were making their way around

town. Some said it was murder, others claimed he committed suicide but no one

actually knew the real cause. Rumours eventually died down and a sort of emptiness

fell over the town. Frederik’s s****r would not and could not continue the tradition of

throwing extravagant parties and the once cheerful residence fell somewhat into

decay. The new doctor settled in a house close to the market square. And as time

went by, the parties became just a mere memory in the people’s minds.

But then new rumours started to spread. A voice had been heard in the large forest

just behind the Vandergeest house. People had seen lights flicker through the attic

windows late at night. Brave c***dren who dared to skip through a gap in the hedge

said they had felt an eerie feeling that made them shiver in anxiety. Something

unexplainable was present in the house. Or, as wise old men, smoking pipes and

sitting on the bench overlooking the market square, said, “The spirit of the doctor has

some unfinished business to deal with. Better watch out when you venture near that


Soon stories went around about the ghost of the doctor chasing people through the

forest, or actually catching people and experimenting on them in his cellar. People

made sure to avoid the house, especially at night. And on Halloween none of the local

c***dren dared to ring the doorbell of Forest Lane no.1 when on their trick-or-treat

round through town.

Elizabeth, however, remained in the house. Relatives had tried to convince her to sell

the house and move somewhere else, to move on with her life, but she didn’t listen. On

Fridays she would appear in the market to buy her weekly fruits and vegetables, but no

one dared to approach her to ask her their burning questions, to satisfy their own

curiosity. The market salesmen sometimes inquired about her well being, but as their

questions were only met with a weary smile they soon gave up questioning her


Although living in seclusion, Elizabeth wasn’t living entirely in solitude. She had a few

friends; all of them knew her before the tragic f****y events, that were still troubling her

mind, had taken place. There was a grumpy man by the name of Richard Walker,

better known as Rusty Walker as he owned a small scrap yard a few miles out of town.

He had been a good friend of her b*****r and now sometimes came to visit and help

out in the maintenance of the house. Margaret Jones, a quaint painter. Her f****y had

been close friends with the Vandergeests and had often visited the house on Forest

Lane. Now it was only Margaret who was occasionally seen making her way to the


And there was Catherine Turner; she had been friends with Elizabeth since they were

k**s, at times inseparable, playing, gossiping, and giggling to the annoyance of their

teachers. But after Elizabeth’s b*****r died Catherine had never been seen entering

the house again. This in itself was odd because Elizabeth and Catherine were

believed to be best friends. There was a rumour that Elizabeth’s b*****r fancied

Catherine. Although it could be questioned which girl Elizabeth’s b*****r didn’t fancy.

At that time it had indeed raised some eyebrows by overly inquisitive women. But

when Catherine married a man from the neighbouring town of Lakeville and moved

there to settle down with him, Catherine slipped out of their minds.


Now, fifty years to the day of that tragic day, Catherine was sitting in the passenger

seat of her granddaughter’s Ford. She looked sideways to her granddaughter, Karina.

She always thought Karina was the striking image of her when she was Karina’s age.

And she wasn’t the only one. People who knew Catherine from when she was young

said so too. Karina had the same flowing brown hair, the same piercing green eyes,

the same facial expressions and even the same slender body Catherine once had.

And the necklace, Catherine’s necklace she had given her granddaughter on her

eighteenth birthday two years ago, made the striking image complete.

As they rounded the hill and descended down, Catherine’s eyes were drawn towards

the town of Woodbury. It was already past noon, but the sl**py town was still covered

in mist. The watery autumn sun had already given up the fight to free the town of its

foggy blanket and was descending upon the earth. Catherine’s aging eyes observed

the houses she was able to make out through the mist. She knew every street of this

little town all to well, and although it had been a while since she last visited the town

where she was born and raised, there was no doubt in her mind that, save the

occasional new building here and there, it would all still be the same.

As they were driving through the main street of Woodbury and Catherine was

confronted with familiar sights, with familiar feelings, her thoughts drifted off to

Elizabeth. Although Catherine had moved to a different town, she had never broken

contact with Elizabeth. At least once a year Elizabeth would come to visit her, although

she had never returned the favour, not until today. Somehow they always managed to

avoid the subject of the death of Elizabeth’s b*****r. She always figured that if

Elizabeth wanted to talk about it, she would do just that and Catherine herself didn’t

feel the urge to talk about this sensitive subject. While it was kind of awkward at first, it

soon became natural to avoid the subject when recollecting memories of the days


However, Elizabeth’s last visit had been different. She had urged Catherine to come to

her house. Elizabeth said she needed to break the spell, to find closure. Her words

had puzzled Catherine. Closure from what? And what spell? But the normally

saddened look in Elizabeth’s eyes was now mixed with urgency, fear almost.

Catherine conceded and agreed to visit her on the 31st of October.


Karina glanced quickly at her grandmother as she turned her Ford into the driveway of

Forest Lane no.1. Her grandmother had been awfully quiet the whole trip. And now that

they were almost at their destination, she could feel her grandmother getting tenser by

the minute. She could even see it as her grandmother gripped the armrest of the car

door tight, so tight that Grandma’s already pale knuckles turned almost transparent


“Grandma, are you ok?”

”Yes, dear,” Grandma said breathing deep, “I’m fine, really.”

Karina watched her grandmother closely from the corner of her eyes as she slowly

drove her car up the gravel road. Maybe this trip wasn’t such a good idea for

Grandma. But it was Grandma herself who suggested this trip. Karina had overheard

Grandma and her mother as they quarrelled in the kitchen. Grandma had asked

Karina’s mother if she could drive her to Woodbury, to the house of Ms. Vandergeest.

However Karina’s parents were planning a Halloween party and her mother wasn’t

going to cancel that just so she could drive Grandma to see some ‘crazy old woman.’

Karina had been looking for an excuse to get away from that Halloween party ever

since she broke up with her boyfriend more than four months ago. She avoided

parties, partly because she still hadn’t gotten over the one year relationship and partly

because she wasn’t much of a party girl in the first place. The twenty year old college

student preferred to invest her energy in studying and the effort was certainly showing

in her grades.

There was also the fact that Karina possessed a pair of large breasts. A heritage of

your grandma, her mother sometimes jokingly referred to them. Karina’s grandmother

seemed to have the same chest size in her days. Karina had always been a bit shy

and introverted and she didn’t like the attention she was getting because of her

breasts at all. She usually wore loose sweaters or tee shirts to somewhat hide them.

And since all nice Halloween costumes mostly consisted of tight fitted clothing, Karina

didn’t feel like running around and having all the men at the party ogling at her.

So when Karina had overheard her mother and her grandma arguing, she walked into

the kitchen and offered to drive her.


Karina parked the car close to the front door and stepped out. She hurried around the

car to help her grandma, but her grandma had already swung the car door open and

struggled herself onto her feet.

“No need to help, I’m fine.”

“Ok, Grandma,” Karina replied as she turned and gazed at the house.

Something about it made it look eerie. The big windows seemed to be covered with a

layer of dust or dirt and a few broken windows had been replaced by wooden planks.

Parts of the framework and the front door seemed to be rotten and the layer of paint

had ruptured open, exposing dark, moldy cracks. No one seemed to have stopped

nature taking its course through the garden as it was overgrown with weeds and

brambles. The hedges had grown wildly in all directions. Ivy covered a large part of the

side wall, all the way up to the roof.

“Are you sure we’re at the right house, Grandma?” Karina asked as she lifted her bag

and Grandma’s small suitcase out of the trunk. The house looked so grey, almost

deserted. Karina shivered, not knowing if it was because of the cold October wind or

this creepy looking place.

“I’m pretty sure,” Grandma said, her voice soft as if she was deep in thought.

They walked towards the front door and Grandma pulled on a small rope that Karina

figured would be the doorbell. Indeed Karina could hear the faint clanging of a bell

inside the house as Grandma pulled the rope twice. Soon after, she heard the shuffling

of feet that were approaching the door. The door opened and an old lady appeared

from behind the door. Her wrinkled face turned into a bright smile when she saw

Karina’s grandmother.

“Oooh, I’m so glad you made it.”

The two women hugged each other. Then the old woman looked at Karina.

“Oooh look at you, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. I hope you still

remember me?”

“Of course, Miss Vandergeest,” Karina replied shyly. Karina found it a bit weird to refer

to a woman more than thrice her own age as Miss, but she knew Miss Vandergeest

never got married. She wondered why, but didn’t have the nerve to ask her about it.

“Please, call me Elizabeth. Now come on in, I see you are cold.”

Karina and her grandmother stepped inside. The hallway was lit with a few small lights

on the walls, bathing it in a soft yellow glow. The walls were made of wood, with

paintings on them for decoration. As Elizabeth guided them through the hallway,

Karina curiously examined the paintings. They all seemed to be of f****y members as

the names and dates of birth and death were written below them.

Elizabeth opened two big doors to what appeared to be a living room, but it was so

big, it could have easily been a ball room. Several old leather couches were

positioned to the sides, accompanied with coffee tables. In the center stood a black

piano with a silver chandelier above it decorated with glass, but it could have easily

been diamonds as the light of the small light bulbs made the glass sparkle. The

chandelier, however, seemed to be the only object that sparkled in the room. The

piano seemed scratched and dull. Wear was clearly visible on the couches, their

pillows flattened. And on the left side of the room, the varnish on the wide wooden

stairs that led the way to the floor above had been worn-out.

Karina felt as if she had stepped back in time, it looked all so old, like it was never

touched in years. Karina also didn’t see a television. Who in the world didn't have

one? And no computer, just an old record player. She wondered if that thing actually


“I will show you your rooms to get rid of your luggage,” Elizabeth said, walking towards

the stairs.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Karina looked into a small carpeted hallway.

Again small lights were hanging on the wall and wooden doors were on either side.

“There are two bathrooms. One here,” said Elizabeth as she pointed to a door, “and

one on the other end, so you can take all the time you need in there.”

“Karina, you can take the last bedroom. It’s the last door to the left. You’ll have the

second bathroom just across the hallway, very convenient.” Elizabeth smiled, looking

at Karina. Karina had thought that Elizabeth was staring at her, but she quickly

dismissed that thought.

“I don’t think you’ll need my help, therefore I’ll show your grandmother her bedroom.”

Karina nodded, gave Grandma her suitcase and started walking towards the end of

the hallway. She stopped halfway and turned around.

“Eh, Miss… I mean, Elizabeth. Where do those stairs lead?” Karina asked, pointing at

a winding staircase at the other end, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway.

“Those lead to the attic. My late b*****r’s study is up there. I would advise you not to go

up there, young lady.”

“Sure thing, Miss,” Karina replied, although the fact that Elizabeth had mentioned not

to go up there made her curious about what actually was up there. But thinking the

better of it, Karina walked towards the last door.

“When you’re done freshening up, come see us in the kitchen,” Elizabeth shouted.

“Ok, I will,” Karina answered, as she stepping inside the room.

She put her bag on the old wooden bed and looked around the room. It wasn’t a

spacious room, but big enough to fit a desk and the queen sized bed in. The room

was decorated in the same old style as the rest of the house. She opened her bag and

pulled out her laptop. “No point turning this on now,” she thought, not expecting to have

any wireless internet connection here. She put the laptop on the desk and started

looking for her toiletry. A warm shower would do her good.


After Karina tweaked the knobs of the shower and warm water was streaming out of

the copper colored showerhead, she stepped into the bathtub and let the water wash

over her body. It was still late afternoon, but Karina somehow felt tired and she hoped

a warm shower would make her come to life again. As she was massaging her body

with soap, her hands lingered at her breasts. For some reason massaging her breasts

always turned her on; let alone when someone else touched them. When her ex-

boyfriend had massaged them, she had always become wet in and instant and when

he wrapped his mouth around them and sucked on her nipples...Oooh my! As she was

moulding her breasts, her mind drifted off to her ex, to the sex they had. He might have

ended up being a jerk, but the sex had always been good.

Karina dreamily let her right hand slide down from her breast over her stomach, and

onto her mound. She arched her back, leaning against the wall, letting the warm water

stream down over her belly, her abdomen, and her vagina. Her fingers caressed her

labia, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Maybe she should have gone to a Halloween

party from one of her friends. She was still a girl with hormones and she still had

needs. It had already been five months since the last time she had sex. But she wasn’t

that type of girl. She couldn’t have a one night stand and she didn’t want to.

Still the desire in her body was there as the tip of her fingers slowly rubbed her clitoris,

her body responding in little pleasurable shocks. She began to breathe heavier,

closing her eyes as her fingers accelerated the circling motion over her clit, applying

more pressure. Her hips were moving slowly, grinding up against her hand, she

started to whimper softly. Her body heated up, closer and closer to its boiling point.


A dull sound broke her out of her daze. It came from above. Karina froze, still leaning

against the wall, listening. There it was again, a soft thud. She turned off the shower

and stepped out. Was there someone upstairs? Karina thought Grandma and

Elizabeth were the only other people in the house and she had heard them go

downstairs together before she went in the shower. Wrapping a towel around her

dripping body, she opened the door quietly, and stepped outside into the hallway,

almost under the stairs that went up. She listened carefully, but she didn’t hear another

thud. She did hear a soft rattling sound coming from upstairs. It sounded like a window

was open and the wind was playing with it, opening and closing it. After listening

quietly for a minute, frozen in place, she didn’t hear any more thuds, only the soft

rattling of the window. Karina shook her head and went back into the bathroom. She

started to imagine things she thought to herself.

After Karina was done in the bathroom, she stayed in her room, or at least her

temporary room. She had brought her homework with her as she still had a paper to

write and exams were fast approaching. And she figured her grandmother and

Elizabeth would have enough to talk about that she didn’t need to hear. After a few

hours she couldn’t really focus on studying any longer. Her stomach was giving small

hints that food had to be consumed soon as it rumbled slightly. It was time to go and

find the kitchen.

Karina found her grandmother and Elizabeth sitting in what appeared to be the dining

room, at a long table with five chairs on either side and one chair at both ends of the

table. Elizabeth was sitting at the head of the table with her grandmother at her right

side. Two long stemmed wine glasses and an open bottle of red wine were in front of

them. The table was already prepared for dinner for three people.

“Karina, we thought you were lost in the house,” Grandma said as she noticed Karina

walked towards them.

“I could have easily, it’s a really big house,” Karina said, sliding into the chair opposite

her grandmother. “What’s for dinner? I smell something delicious.”

“Just some pot roast, my dear and since you’re here we might as well eat,” Elizabeth


“I will get it, you’ve done more than enough already,” Grandma said standing up and

walking through the door of the kitchen.

Karina looked at Elizabeth, she wasn’t sure if she should ask, but she did anyway.

“Elizabeth, are we ehm… alone in the house?”

Elizabeth hesitated for a second and then answered, “I’m pretty sure we are, Karina. I

have a house keeper but she only works during the week. Why do you ask?”

“Ooh, eh nothing. Just wondering.”

Soon they were eating and Karina listened to stories of the past as Elizabeth and her

grandmother remembered funny anecdotes about their c***dhood. Karina tried to pay

attention to the stories, but soon she got lost in names she had never heard of, or

places she had never been, and losing interest, she excused herself and went back to

her bedroom.


Catherine watched her granddaughter walk out of the dining room. When the door

closed with a soft click, Elizabeth spoke.

“It’s scary how that girl looks so much like you when you were her age. Already fifty

years ago.”

Catherine said nothing but nodded.

“Catherine, are you ever going to tell me what happened that night?”

Catherine shifted uneasily, her eyes looking downwards, fixed on the empty plate in

front of her. She didn’t have to ask Elizabeth about what night she was asking about.

“Well, maybe… maybe it’s time to tell, at least to you.”

“You know of course about that party, this same accursed day fifty years ago.

Halloween,” Catherine started. Elizabeth nodded, that day was etched in her memory.

“Well of course I was at that party. And your b*****r, Frederik, was going around the

party, flirting with the ladies, talking with the men, his usual. But he also paid a lot of

attention to me, a lot. He was so charming and… I already had a weak spot for him, I

think I always had.”

“I suspected something like that.”

“When the party was ending and most of the guests were already gone, Frederik told

me he wanted to show me something, a book. He said I would like it a lot and that it

was in his study in the attic. Of course I knew that wasn’t the only reason he wanted me

to go up there with him, but I had been drinking a few drinks and I wasn’t thinking

clearly. Or maybe I was and I wanted this to happen. I don’t know…”


Karina wondered what to do, no television, no internet, no Halloween parties, and

strangely enough no c***dren at the door trick-or-treating. She might as well get ready

for bed and read a book before sl**p. She took off her clothes and slipped into an

orchid colored nightgown. It was her favorite; it wasn’t too long to annoy her when

sl**ping, the hem was just above her knees, and she loved the feel of the silk against

her skin. She was just about to slide underneath the sheets when she heard it again,

the rattling sound. She wondered if she should close the window up there, she could

after all hear it from her room. Even though Elizabeth had advised her not to go up

there, what could there possibly be that she wasn’t allowed to see. Besides she

wouldn’t snoop around, just close the window and go down again, there was no harm

in that.

Making up her mind she walked out of her room and suck up the stairs. It was dark, but

soon enough her eyes had adjusted to it and she could make out walls in the dark. To

her surprise, the cracks of a door in the wall were outlined by a soft but clear strip of

light. Why was there light? Elizabeth had said there was no one in the house except for

them. Had she turned on the light in there? Why would see do that if it was her

b*****r’s study? Or maybe, maybe that’s why she had said not to go up there,

because she went up there herself.

Karina hesitated, her thoughts twofold, but eventually curiosity got the better of her.

Slowly, very slowly she pushed and the door squealed softly open. On either side of

the room large bookcases covered the wall, they were completely filled with books.

Candles stood on the edges, their flames pushed around by the draft that ran through

the room. Cobwebs hung in the corners of the shelves. A layer of dust covered the

books, the shelves, even the floor; she could feel it on her bare feet as she stepped

inside the room.


Elizabeth moved in her kitchen chair and reached her arm out to put her hand on

Catherine’s hand. “Go on, dear.”

“Well… I went up there with your b*****r and I think he had it all planned out. There

were candles on the shelves, flowers on the desk; it was all so… sweet. He took me in

his arms, he kissed me. I couldn’t resist, I didn’t want to resist. It felt good, like it was

meant to be. Then he took his chair, put it in front of the desk and told me to sit down.

And I did. I was in a daze, I did what he said,” Catherine hesitated, not sure if she

wanted to continue.

“You can tell me anything, please, I need to know, I need to close this. Please, for me,”

Elizabeth pleaded, grasping Catherine’s hand in hers.

“I-I sat down. He picked up two scarves from the desk and twisted them around the

armrest, then around my wrists. I asked Frederik why he did that. He asked if I trusted

him, and I nodded. He said he wouldn’t put a knot in them, so I could free my hands if I

wanted to. I nodded again. Then he kissed me and touched me. He started kneading


“You can say it, its ok, really.”

“My breast. No one had ever touched them, not like he did, not on purpose. And I liked

it. I felt a bit ashamed but I liked it. His other hand slid under my dress towards my…

you know,” Catherine looked at Elizabeth with shame in her eyes, but it was met with a

sympathetic nod.


Walking further into the room Karina saw a big oak desk in the back, behind it were

three large windows. The wooden chair, however, was not behind the desk, but stood

in front of it, two velvet scarves hanging down from the armrests. They seemed to be of

a pale red color. Karina felt uneasy, it looked like the room had been abandoned many

years ago and no one had touched it ever since. But that didn’t explain the burning

candles. Who had lit them? Elizabeth and her grandmother had been in the kitchen all

this time, at least she hadn’t heard Elizabeth come upstairs. Or had the candles been

burning all day? Still with the abundance of dust in the room, a foot print, a gripping of

fingers onto a shelf would be as visible as a footprint in fresh snow.

And there was something else that made Karina nervous, she could feel a presence,

as if there was someone in the room, but looking around she was sure she was the

only one. Remembering why she was in here in the first place she hastened towards

the windows. But to her surprise none of them were open. Left window, closed. Middle,

closed. Right closed. This was getting too weird for her. She had to get out of this

room and ask Elizabeth about it, there must be some obvious explanation for this. But

just as she turned around, the door slammed close.

Karina peered towards the door to see who closed it, but in the flickering lights of the

candles she didn’t see anyone. Suddenly a low voice broke the silence.


“W-who… who’s there? Elizabeth?” Karina asked scared.

“Caaatherine, you came back.”

“No, I’m not… I-I’m not Catherine.”

“It is you, your body, your face. That… that necklace.” The voice was getting closer,

Karina realized she had to move, to get out of there.

“I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” Karina started to walk away from the

window towards the door.

“Why did you run away?” The voice was now awfully close. Karina looked left, right,

forward, but she still couldn’t see anyone.

“I didn’t… I swear… i-it wasn’t me.” Karina’s heart was racing, she had to run. Run. But

her legs didn’t listen, shuffling forward in some kind of trance.

Suddenly she felt it; something cold was gripping her arms just below the shoulder,

pushing her back, right into the wooden chair. She shrieked and struggled, trying to

free herself, her forearms swinging in front of her, her legs kicking, but she was hitting

nothing, nothing but air.

“Please Catherine, I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not… I’m not Catherine.” Still struggling a little, Karina realized her own

predicament, she couldn’t fend off the thing that was holding her. Was it a thing, or was

it someone, some ghost? She looked at her arms; red streams were visible as if

hands were gripping her tight, but she couldn’t see the hands. Accepting that this was

beyond her control, she stopped struggling. The grips on her arms seem to loosen,

and then it disappeared. She lunged forward to get up, but a pressure on her chest,

just between her breasts, pressed her back into to the chair. Knowing she could do

nothing she resigned and waited.

In disbelief she saw one of the scarves moving. It was as if she was looking at

someone else’s arm as she watched the scarf being wrapped around her left arm,

knotted, and pulled tight. It wasn’t her, it wasn’t real.

“W-what do you want?” Karina asked, trying to reason with that something, someone.

“Finish what we started, Catherine.” The scarf on her right was now moving, wrapping

around her right arm.

“What we’ve longed for all this time,” the low voice continued.

“I… I don’t understand.”

The pressure on her chest was moving, moving to her right breast. As if a hand was

cupping her firm breast and squeezing it softly. And to Karina’s surprise her body

reacted, her nipple stiffened, pressing against the silk of her nightgown.

“I’ve always wanted you. Only you,” the voice whispered close to her left ear.

Karina turned her head. She still couldn’t see a face, or something. But the coldness

that was massaging her breast was starting to feel good, very good. She didn’t know if

it was the touch, the adrenaline, or the unreality of the situation, but she felt a warm

feeling developing in her loins.

“Do you still trust me, Catherine?”

The right spaghetti strap of her nightgown started to move, she looked at it as it slid

over her shoulder, down her arm, exposing her right breast, the nipple pointing


“I-I…” Karina stuttered. She wanted to say something in protest, but she couldn’t.

Maybe deep inside she didn’t want to protest. She hadn’t been touched this intimately

in a while and as surreal as this was, this felt… good. Coldness was surrounding her

nipple, as if ice cubes were surrounding it, sucking it. She looked down and saw her

nipple being tugged forward, she felt it. She just couldn’t see what was causing it.

“Oooh.” It was out before she realized it, a small moan, a sign that she was giving in.

Giving into something unknown, someone. The attention that was being given to her

breasts heated her body.

Suddenly the cold touch disappeared from her breasts, only to reappear on her knees,

spreading her legs softly. Karina didn’t protest, she looked down as the hem of her

nightgown was pushed up, exposing her thighs, even her white lace panties. She

shivered when she felt a cold pressure on her leg, as if a tongue of ice was licking its

way slowly up over her thigh. Karina started to breathe faster, her mouth open. As the

cold sensation made its way up towards her panties, Karina slid down, her bottom on

the edge of the chair, eager to feel it go to where she expected it to go.

It lingered for a moment, high up her thigh, so close to her crotch. The crotch of her

panties was pushed aside and then she felt it, the cold pressure on her pussy lips.

“Mmmmmm,” Karina moaned as she felt it move up over her pussy lips. The touch was

cold, but her pussy hot and undeniably wet. She tried to understand it, understand

herself. What was going on? Why did this feel so good? It shouldn’t, it’s… weird. But

her mind became foggier with every lick of cold over her pussy. She was making little

whimpering sounds as her body shivered in response to the cold flicking her clitoris.

“Oooooooh,” Karina lost sight of the absurdness of the situation and was giving into

the lust that was building up inside her. She wanted to knead her breasts, but when

she tried to move her arms, she was reminded that her wrists were still tied to the

chair. Her hips were moving involuntarily, pushing up against the invisible tongue of

pleasure. It kept licking, spreading her pussy lips, over her slit. It ran over her clit,

flicking it, cold waves that rippled into hot electric sparks through her body, building up

to an inevitable climax. She could feel it in her abdomen, like a balloon filling up with

air until it would explode in a loud bang.

But then it stopped. She could feel warm drops of her own pussy juices dripping out of

her, but the cold pressure was gone.

“What the…” Karina blurted out, disappointed to be so close to release, so close to an

orgasm. For a moment she sat there, slumped in the chair, confused, not sure what to

do. Gathering her thoughts that had been fogged, still were. But she didn’t have time to

come to her senses.

Again she felt a cold pressure against her pussy lips, but this time it felt different, more

centered, like the tip of a rod. Her eyes shot open at the realisation what was going to

happen, what was already happening. Something slid inside her pussy, something stiff

like a shaft, a dildo, a… cock.

“Ooooooooh, ooooh fuck,” she cried out in surprise as it pushed inside her, her eyes

wide. She could barely believe what was going on. She was getting fucked… fucked

by a ghost. And she was enjoying it, loving it even.

The cold invisible cock was pushing inside her, until it hit the back of her pussy,

pushing against her womb. Then she felt it retreat only to be pushed all the way in

again. Her body was filled with lust; her hips were pushing forward, meeting its thrust.

“Ooooh fuck, fuck me, ooooh faster,” Karina moaned loudly. The cold shaft felt strange

inside her, nothing like she had ever experienced. But her pussy felt like it was on fire,

the contrast strange but oh so good. She felt the invisible cock increasing its rhythm,

pushing faster inside her, harder, minute after minute. Long hard thrusts were pushing

her closer and closer to her peak. Karina couldn’t hold out any longer, her muscles

were twitching, her body shaking.

”Aaaaaah, fuck, aaaaaaaah,” she screamed as her orgasm hit her, like a wall of hot

air. Her body covered in sweat, her breathing fast, irregular. Her body shocked,

shaking from the orgasm. But the shaft kept sliding in and out of her in the same fast

rhythm, relentless. And her body responded to it, giving Karina no time to relax, to

come down from her orgasm, instead she was swept up again.

In minutes Karina was squealing in pleasure as another orgasm announced itself. And

again her body was dipped in ecstatic feelings. Still the ghost didn’t stop. For what felt

like hours, Karina was being fucked like she was never fucked before and she felt like

she was in a permanent free fall, blown left and right by the wind, receiving orgasm

after orgasm. She lost count of how many as her body was getting exhausted, her

pussy sore. To the point she couldn’t take anymore.

“Stop, stop, please.” She pleaded, out of breath, exhausted. The ghost obeyed her

request and stopped. Karina sighed deep, closing her eyes, trying to regain her

breath. A drowsy, content feeling came over her. She didn’t know if the ghost had cum.

Can a ghost even cum? She didn’t care, she was too exhausted, she wanted to sl**p.

As if the ghost could read her mind, Karina felt the scarves getting loosened around

her wrists, sliding from her arms. She was lifted in the air, literally floating as the ghost

carried her outside the room and down the winding stairs. Karina, half asl**p, still

realized where she was and pointed at the door of the room she needed to go.

“That there… That door,” Karina whispered wearily. She was carried inside, and laid

on the bed. As soon as her body made contact with the bed, Karina drifted off into a

deep sl**p.


Catherine looked away from Elizabeth as she continued her story.

“It all felt so good. I had never experienced this before. I was still a virgin, you know

that. Then his hand went from my breast to his pants and he started to unbutton it, pull

down his pants, and take out his… penis. When I saw it, I suddenly realized what he

was doing, what I was about to do. I panicked…. I panicked and I kicked him. He fell to

the ground and I stood up and I ran down the stairs, outside. I heard him shout after me

but I didn’t listen. When I was running down the hallway towards the front door, I heard

a loud thud. I never realised what it was, who it was, I didn’t, I swear… I didn’t realize

Frederik had fallen down the stairs. I should have stopped, turned around, but I didn’t. I

ran outside and ran home.”

Tears welled up in Catherine’s eyes. She couldn’t stop them anymore and she started


“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was all my fault, all mine,” Catherine sobbed, her head resting

on the table.

Elizabeth clasped Catherine’s hand tight, her other hand on Catherine’s head. She

was fighting back her own tears.

“It wasn’t, my dear, it wasn’t. It was me. It was my fault. I pushed him, I pushed my own


Catherine looked up, disbelief in her eyes, teardrops still rolling down her cheeks.

“Wha… what are you… are you s-saying?” Catherine stuttered.

“It was me. I… I had feelings for you, for months, maybe longer. I don’t know. I was in

love with you, Catherine, in love. And I didn’t know what to do, who to tell. I had feelings

I shouldn’t have had and I was ashamed of them. You were my best friend, and I

couldn’t tell you. I was confused, lost. When I heard someone running past my room

that night, I opened the door and looked. I saw you just running to the end of the

hallway, running downstairs, readjusting your dress. Moments after Frederik passed

me, he didn’t notice me standing in my doorway. His pants were around his knees. I

put two and two together and I thought you two had done it. I felt jealous, for a moment I

hated my b*****r… and you. I was hurt, furious. I don't know what came over me. When

Frederik stopped in front of the stairs to pull his pants up, I walked behind him and I

pushed him.”

Elizabeth put her face in her hands.

“I pushed him. He fell down the stairs. I killed my own b*****r. He broke his neck in the

fall, I killed him.”

Catherine didn’t know how to feel, her mind was a whirlwind of emotion. The tears had

stopped as she looked in amazement at Elizabeth, once her best friend.

“He’s still here,” Elizabeth continued, “Frederik is still here. He haunts me, in my sl**p,

in my house. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but he haunts me. I thought your presence

might help, might free him.”

“Why didn’t you move away, sell the house?” Catherine asked while she put her hands

around Elizabeth’s face

“Because it’s my fate. My fate and I have to live with it. Only me.”

“Ooooooh, dear,” Catherine sighed, closing her arms around Elizabeth in a tight hug.

For a long while the two women sat there, entangled in each others arms, in silence,

not sure what to say to each other. But as the moon climbed up into the sky, fatigue

took over and they went to their beds. They would talk further in the morning.


The next morning the sun was shining bright over Woodbury, it still stood low above the

earth but something was different. The fog had disappeared and there was something,

almost spring-like in the air on that first day of November. It was as if the town had

woken up from a long sl**p and things came to life again. Elizabeth felt it when she

woke up, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Maybe, she thought, the confession to

Catherine and Catherine's presence had helped. Maybe she wouldn’t have any more

terrible nightmares or hear strange sounds from the attic. The attic she had never

dared to set one foot in after the death of her b*****r.

Karina was lying in bed. She didn’t feel like getting up, even after she heard Elizabeth

and not long after, her grandmother going downstairs. Karina was thinking about the

strange events of the night before. Had it really happened? Or was it just a dream?

Karina slid her hand over her mound, the still slightly sore feeling was hard to deny. It

couldn’t have been a dream. Her fingers played with her labia, they still tingled, or

maybe again. Thinking about the night before seemed to turn Karina on, made her wet


Karina stood up and walked out of her room. She didn’t know what excited her so

much. The fact that she was fucked by a ghost, which was totally unbelievable in itself,

or that it could go on and on. Imagine having a boyfriend that could go on and on for

hours, maybe a bit painful but oh so good.

Karina walked up the winding stairs, her erect nipples brushing against the soft fabric

of the nightgown. She opened the door and to her surprise the candles were all out

although they weren’t burned up completely. She looked around the dusty room lit by

the sunlight that was seeping through the windows. Everything seemed to be the same

as last night, except for… except for something she couldn’t explain. That feeling, that

presence that was in the room last night was missing. Karina walked to the wooden

chair and rested her arms on the armrests.

“Ghost, I’m back…”

“ I trust you…”

“ I-I… I’m longing for you.”

Karina waited and waited. She sat there all morning, all afternoon, even deep into the

night, but no sound was heard, no voice spoke, and no touch was felt.

... Continue»
Posted by adel5000 3 years ago  |  Categories: Voyeur  |  Views: 289  |  
  |  4

Me, My dad and the restaurant Waiter!

My Dad was working interstate and I had flown up to spend some quality time with him. Ever since we had such a great connection on our camping trip, we had tried to get some one-on-one time whenever we could. He was in a really nice hotel, so it was a great opportunity to stay in luxury at no cost. I had arrived that afternoon and we had decided to go out to dinner with a couple of his work colleagues. It was a restaurant just near the hotel so was convenient.

Dad’s colleagues arrived at the hotel late and we were able to get a table easily as many diners had already finished. The waiter with his name tag “Hadi” was absolutely stunning, he was Middle eastern looking, tall, nicely muscular but not at all bulky, short dark hair, beautiful soft coloured skin tones, chocolate coloured eyes and a smile to die for. As he was reading the specials I couldn’t take my eyes off him, his eyes were magnetically engaging and conveyed a soft smiling sense of personality and whenever he looked at me I felt he was looking at my soul. To say my heart wasn’t beating faster was an understatement – I thought people might hear it.

We ordered our food and then he came back to pour our wine. As he stood next to me I stared up at him, his eyes twinkling back at me as we made idle chit chat about nothing. There was a wisp of dark chest hair visible with his open collar shirt that caught my attention, my heart raced and I felt that he could see me looking at it. Tingles of electricity zapped around my skin and I smiled and looked at his crotch instead, just in case I was getting some signals from him. My Dad was busy talking with his colleagues so hadn’t noticed how gorgeous he was. As he went to the other side of the table I was able to get a better glimpse of his chest hair as he bent over to pour the wine. My eyes craned to see into the shadows of his shirt and imagine what lay beneath. I could see he had a nice dark covering of hair and imagined what it might be like to run my hands and fingers through it.

Shortly our food came and I was again greeted with his engaging beautiful smile that had me weak at the knees. He placed my meal in front of me and said that he hoped I enjoyed it. I said “I hope so too and that everything looked delicious” as I looked at his gorgeous eyes and him mine. His succulent lips closed over his beautiful smile and I could sense he was a little embarrassed, but his eyes kept twinkling. “Enjoy” he said. My Dad leaned in close so as not to be heard by his colleagues and said “what’s with you and the waiter?”. I looked at him and said “nothing, what do you mean”. “well it looks to me like he keeps coming to our table and smiling at my handsome son”. I was a little surprised as I had thought my little fantasy had been just mine, but maybe the reality was actually happening. The meal and chatter progressed and every time I glanced over at the waiter, I often caught him staring back at me and he smiled a recognition every time.

The waiter came again to pour some more wine and asked if there was anything else we would care for. I said that we would skip desert and go straight for coffee. He smiled his beautiful engaging heart stealing smile at me again and said that he would come and take orders shortly. I decided I would visit the bathroom and stood up and went over to him. Our eyes locked and I asked him “where was the men’s room”. “Just down the hall sir” with a perceptible swallow in his throat. “I hope I don’t get lost” I said and smiled. He looked so gorgeous and so nervous at the same time. I went to the bathroom hoping he might follow. I delayed a couple of minutes and when I came out he was just outside in the hall. “I have taken the orders for coffee sir, did you want any” he said. “Coffee? I asked. He swallowed hard and said “I shouldn’t be here”. He looked nervous but still gorgeous. “What’s wrong? I asked. “I don’t know if I am confused but I can hardly breathe, I want to know, I mean, I want to ask, can I see you after you leave”. My heart was beating like I had run a marathon, there was hard banging in my ear drums, as my own smile crept over my face. I leaned in and put my hand up to his neck and pulled him in for the most erotic forbidden kiss. In that moment I could smell his delicious aftershave and scent, taste his mouth, and had whirls of electricity shooting around my body as my cock stiffened, with his succulent lips locked with mine. We pulled apart and I said “Room 915” at the Hyatt. “I finish in 45 minutes” he said.

That 45 minutes was excruciating. But in reality was only 15 or 20 after we left the restaurant. I told my Dad, and he asked if I wanted to be alone and I said I was happy for a threesome if the waiter was up for it. Then there was a knock at the door. I opened it and he seemed more gorgeous than before. He came in and I shut the door and kissed him straight on the mouth while gently rubbing his cock through his trousers and could feel him hardening further, a nice long rod. I began undoing his shirt and he looked at my Dad. “Do you mind if it’s the three of us?” I said as casually as possible as I revealed his beautiful hairy chest. My Dad looked on and said “You have one hot fucking looking chest mate” as he was rubbing his own cock through his trousers, the bulge now visible. Hadi said “have I died and gone to heaven?” and beamed his beautiful smile at both of us.

My Dad undid his shirt to reveal his hard muscular frame and hairy chest, I got Hadi’s trousers undone as he undid mine. It was hands in all directions and then we were naked as we locked lips again with our arms intertwining, our cocks like duelling swords of steel. My Dad knelt down and reached in from behind under each of our balls to gently tickle and caress our balls and perineum. Pulses and tingling of electricity was spiralling throughout my body as my Dad pleasured us and got his head between us and began sucking first on my cock and then Hadi’s. He had a deliciously caramel coloured cock and I too wanted to taste it, but was happy licking my way down through his gorgeous chest hair, smelling his scent and sucking his nipples as Dad sucked on Hadi’s rock hard cock and stroked my own cock with its ample flow of precum to self lubricate. Hadi’s smell was extraordinary – that amazing natural man scent – he was now my oxygen and I needed it to breathe or else I might die. I knelt down next to my Dad and we both slurped on the full length of Hadi’s hard perfect caramel cock, our lips and tongues interacting from each side. We slid our lips along the length to the head in unison, our tongues dancing as the taste of precum was shared between us, this was the dessert we never had at the restaurant. My Dad let me swallow Hadi’s shaft and I slid my lips over it, sucking deliciously on his perfectly shaped cock head and then taking him all the way to the back of my throat as my Dad had taught me. My Dad worked his way behind, first sucking his deliciously loose ball sack, each ball at a time, before parting his firm round arse cheeks and tracing his finger down the crevice to his balls. I felt a contraction from Hadi and an expulsion of precum into my mouth, slimey and sweet. Hadi was moaning, as was my Dad as he had found his arse with his lips and was probing him with his tongue.

Hadi’s hands were on my ears and he held my face and rubbed his hands against my stubble. He looked down at me with his twinkling gorgeous eyes and smiled. I wanted his mouth some more so moved back up. Standing up we again locked lips and our tongues and lips fought in a frenzy of delight. Hadi’s hands found my hard cock and he was gently stroking me, while my Dad had swapped and was now probing my hole with his tongue sending jolts of pleasure that seemed to echo around my body. Hadi then worked his way down my chest and gently and expertly sucked my cock. The sight of my erect hard manhood disappearing into his golden mouth and gorgeous face was hard to describe. I wished I had a video, but realised I would have to memorise this forever. Hadi at floor level had let his hands engage with Dad’s big hard dripping dick as his mouth and throat engaged with mine. The pleasure signals were extreme, sensual, sensitive, emotional and visual. I was seeing everything like the 3D movie that it was, but it was more and I was at its core. Hadi’s cock was flawless with its caramel colour and smooth appearance, hardly a vein in sight. The head was succulent and I wanted it inside me. “Hadi, I want you to fuck me” It was just a thought but I realised I had said it out loud as well. We moved to the bed and I lay on my back, Hadi over the top of me kissing me as he bent over me. I pulled my legs up so that he could take perfect aim with his rocket and harpoon me to my core. He nuzzled my entrance, drooling his own precum over my hole as he kissed me and slid his hand along the shaft of my cock with a corkscrew turn on the head to maximise the sensation. My Dad appeared on his knees with some lube and gently rubbed it on my hole tickling me with his finger as he did. He took Hadi’s cock in his mouth again and swallowed him whole, burying his face to Hadi’s pubes and moving his face from side to side. I could see Hadi’s eyes rolling in his head from ecstacy. Dad then lubed Hadi’s arse as he lay his head on my hard cock while still having Hadi’s cock in his mouth. The feeling of Dad’s head and hair pressing on my cock was sublime as I watched Dad’s hands disappearing up the backside of Hadi’s balls. I massaged Dad’s scalp and ears - it was almost too exhilarating to watch as I could imagine his expert fingers probing and lubing Hadi’s delicate sphincter ready for its encounter with my Dad’s thumping sausage of pleasure. My Dad left Hadi’s cock with a slurp and took his place behind him, holding him around the waste and kissing his neck while playing with his nipples and chest hair, sliding his hard cock up and down Hadi’s butt crack in a fucking motion. Hadi’s hands interlocked with mine as he used our wrists to secure the position of my airborne legs. The delicate tickling of Hadi’s cock fluttering at my entrance was titillating and I wanted that plunging invading feeling of first entry. Then it happened, first the head and then the shaft sliding in, penetrating me and stimulating the core of my prostate. Precum was leaking out of me like a tap and in between thrusts Hadi attempted to lick some off my stomach, bending over and for a moment coming out of me. Then my Dad entered Hadi as he was bending over, the pleasure waves almost visible on his skin. He rippled with a glistening of sweat as my Dad reached around and guided Hadi’s cock back to my waiting hole. CONNECTION!!! We were all as one, a humping grinding sandwich of pleasure, 3 men with Hadi in the middle. The tingling pleasure waves were extreme as the thrusting, moaning and sweating was getting us all close to explosive. Grinding, thrusting and writhing continued as we behaved as one, each move pleasuring the others. Hadi released one hand free from mine and began corkscrewing his hand deliciously around my cock and shaft in a slimey lather of precum and lube in unison with his thrusting into my deepest recess, followed by the additional thump of pressure as my Dad went into him. I had the beginnings of orgasm building and the feeling of Hadi’s handjob as he slid in and out of me probing my pleasure centres was not possible to resist. I went with it and erupted. The first three jolts sprayed me in the face as liquid cream pulsed out from my cock with such f***e it had me screaming in delight. At the same moment I could see Hadi’s face contort in orgasmic pleasure as he pumped bolt after bolt of cum up my arse, his hand grip tightening around mine as his body quivered. And then like a domino topple, my Dad moaned and grunted in climactic ecstasy as he unloaded his cum and injected shot after shot of liquid cream into Hadi’s own pleasure recess. We all held each other in a moment of heavy breathing and silence, moving slowly but all still connected hand to hand, arse to cock and arse to cock, interlocked. This had been the most delicious sandwich of humanity I had ever encountered.

Hadi stayed the night, the three of us in the King size bed and for me there was further Middle eastern delights in the morning after Dad had gone to work.

Hadi in the morning

... Continue»
Posted by yevedj 3 years ago  |  Categories: First Time, Gay Male, Taboo  |  Views: 4416  |  
  |  23

The hottii in the restaurant

The other day I went out to eat at a local fast food restaurant with my wife and two sons. We were having a good dinner when I looked up and say this amazing girl filling her drink. She had on a pair of tight jeans that showed her perfect bubble butt. She had her brunette hair all done up with some curls. And had a very nicely tailored sleeveless white shirt that accented her small breasts nicely.

I was simply stairing at her when I realized that my son was talking to me. I had to pull myself away, but knew I couldn't snap my head away too quickly or else it would draw attention from her or from my wife. So I simply looked away from the table more and then came back to looking at my son. I have no idea what he was saying because my mind was focused on the girl across the room.

Once my sons were done eating they asked for ice cream so I immediately asked my wife to take them up and get them some. Once they were around the corner I tried to pull my phone out to get a good picture of the girl across the room, but it was too risky. She was sitting with what appeared to be her mother and her mother had a perfect shot to look right at me. Above all else, I did not want to get caught with my wife and sons with me. So I had to give up on the picture.

When my wife came back to the table she asked me what I thought of the girls outfit at the table by the window. I was shocked for a moment. I could not tell if she was testing me or if she was serious. So I just simply stated, "I don't know. I wasn't paying attention to anyone. I keep drifting off thinking about work."

We started talking about what is going on at work. I quickly realized that she was truly curious what I thought about the girls outfit. So after talking work for a while, I decided to bring the conversation back to the hottii across the room.

"You asked what I thought of her outfit?" I asked

"Yeah, do you think that is a good look?"

"Why do you ask?" I wondered.

"It seems like an outfit that you would like me to wear." My wife stated.

I wanted to scream, "HELL YES!!!!" Instead I took the oportunity to stair at the girl with my wifes permission. After I got a real good look at her, I told my wife, "If you were to wear that outfit for me, you would not be staying in it for very long."

She got an embarrassed smile on her face and said, "That's what I thought."

It was getting to be time for my sons to be dropped off at my parents house, they were going to watch them for the night because my wife an I were going to catch a movie just the two of us. So I asked my wife if she could take them over and come back and pick me up.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Everything is fine. I just want to make a few phone calls and I thought that if I stayed here I could focus on those calls and get them done before we head to the theater."

She thought tha sounded like a good idea so I said good-bye to my sons and off they went.

I now turned my attention to the girl across the room. This time when I looked up at her, I could have sworn I caught her stairing at me. This made me nervous, I didn't know if she caught me earlier or not. Right when I was debating if I should get up and walk outside or not, she got up and started walking towards me. I just sat there, frozen to my seat. She walked like she was on a mission and she was coming straight towards me. The bad thing was that I couldn't watch her amazing body as she walked because I was scared out of my mind that she was going to tell me off in middle of the restaurant.

She walked straight over to my table and then....kept on walking. She was headed towards the restrooms which were located behind my table. It must have been the adrenaline from my freight, but I decided I had to take a chance. I stood up and followed her to the restroom. I went into the mens room and made sure no one was in there. I got my phone out and got it ready to get a good video tape of her ass as she walked back to her table. I figured I could follow her all the way to her table and then just walk outside.

The restrooms were in a little alcove all to themselves so I could see her door facing the mens room door, while also seeing if anyone was walking towards the restroom. I heard her flush and wash her hands. I was ready to go with my phone and as she walked out I walked out. Only she did not turn and go back to her seet, she just stood there and staired at me. As I slowly started to move past her and give up on my adventure she simply stated, "I saw you checking me out."

I froze. I could not move. I simply stated, "I am sorry. I have a habit of wanting to admire beautiful things."

She smiled at me and said, "So I am a thing?"

I smiled back, "You know that is not what I meant. You are very beautiful and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"Oh, you didn't make me uncomfortable. Unless by making me squirm in my seat is what you meant."

I gave her a quizzical look. "What are you getting at?"

"I am not sure. All I have been thinking this entire time is that I just want to pull your cock out and suck it dry."

My jaw hit the floor. "Really!?!?"

Her responce was to simply grab my hand and say, "Follow me."

With that she lead me into the womens bathroom.

We went to the last stall that had a solid wall partitioning it off from the rest of the bathroom. It was also a double wide for wheelchairs to get in. She pushed me up against the wall and got down on her knees.

As she unzipped my pants my cock must have known what was about to happen because it jumped out of my pants and hit her on the nose. She giggled and grabbed it with her right hand. She slowly started stroking my cock. Then her left hand came up and started caressing my balls.

She stuck her tongue out and licked from the base of my dick to the tip. At that point she just started flicking the end with her tongue. I couldn't resist. Here she was, this amazing girl that I had been drooling over, kneeling in front of me playing with my dick. I just grabbed the back of her head and pushed it down on my dick. I was not sure how much she could take so I did not push too far down.

She started bobbing her head up and down. With each bob, she went a little farther down until she had my entire dick in her mouth. I could feel the back of her throat against my dick. "I don't think I will last very long." I warned her.

With that, she started sucking harder and stroking my balls more. I was just about to explode when I heard someone come in and say, "Jenny. You in here?"

With that she took my dick out of her mouth and yelled back, "Yeah! Sorry, I must not be feeling too well. I must have been coughing too much because it feels like I keep getting something stuck in my throat."

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I am. I should be out in a minute. I think I am just about done in here."

As the door closed, she looked up at me and shoved my dick back in her mouth. Between stokes, she asked me what it was about her that caught my eye.

Without hesitation I said, "Your ass!"

She looked at me squarely in the eye for about two full minutes. Then she finally spoke and said, "If you want it, it is yours."

I did not lose a moment. I lifter her off the floor and started undoing her pants. I slid her pants off and turned her around. She leaned forward and put her head agains the wall. I knelted down and started licking her ass to get it nice an wet. I could tell she had a virgin ass so I had to ask her, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes! Fuck my ass!"

With that, I stood up and slowly started to slide my dick in her tight ass. She started to breath deeply. I told her, "Just relax. This will not hurt at all. Trust me!"

Silently she said, "Okay."

"You got me so close, I will not last long." I told her.

With that, I slid my dick all the way in her ass. I could tell she was in some pain, so I did not hold back. I fucked her ass for about thirty seconds and then I felt myself about to explode. I told her, "Here it comes."

That is when I let loose deep in her ass. I could feel myself shoot load after load in her tight ass. It just kept coming. Once I was finally finished, I slowly slid my dick out of her ass. I pulled my pants up as she took a deep breath.

"You okay?"

She paused, "Yeah, that was actually better than I thought it would be." As she gave me a grin. "Not too bad for a young girl like me, wouldn't you say?"

With that I paused, "You are eighteen, right?"

She gave me a big grin and said, "I can say I am....if that makes you feel better."

She pulled her pants back up and we headed out of the bathroom. She went first and motioned for me that the coast was clear. I went straight into the mens room for about thirty seconds. Then I came out and started heading out of the restaurant. I walked right past her table.

As I walked outside, my wife was just pulling in to pick me up. To my surprise, she had gone out and got an outfit just like the Jenny's. I had a wonderful night with my wife. When we got home, I had my wife suck me just like Jenny had before. I then followed it up with fucking her ass also. It was amazing. Every time my wife wears that outfit, she ends up blowing me and I fuck her ass!

Jenny, were ever you are. Thank you!... Continue»
Posted by younghottii69 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, Taboo, Voyeur  |  Views: 3249  |  
  |  7

Restaurant seduction

I was bored. I hate the nights I have to spend alone in an hotel waiting for the next flight out. The only advantage is the expense account and so it was that this evening I was finishing a meal on my hotel restaurant’s terrace, enjoying the warm evening sunshine and wishing my sometime lover Vicky was nearby. I grinned at the suggestive text she’d just sent me, probably while her husband was sitting next to her. Vicky is married to a guy who spends a lot of time away on business trips and I ‘entertain’ her occasionally so she can satisfy those hormones that like some ‘softer’ sex and I... well I just like fucking rich sexy woman who are looking for a little girl-girl action with no strings.

I pushed my plate away and sipped my Chablis, looking around the restaurant at the boring clientele, mostly couples and a few single men who either glanced shyly or leered in my direction. Oh god, I was bored, why had I bothered to dress up..... and then I saw her come in. She was with a guy and another couple and they were laughing at some joke or another. They walked across and sat down to the side and slightly behind me but I could study her over the rim of my glass in a mirror on the side wall. She was in her early 30’s I guess and so attractive and sexy. Honey coloured hair flowed around her bare shoulders, which she played with constantly, curling it around her fingers and flicking it off her face. Her full mouth pouted readily at her companions as she leaned forward in conversation with the couple opposite. I could see the guy looking at the intriguing place where her buttons were undone at the top of her white silk blouse and felt a sudden rush of jealously. I wanted her; I wanted those full lips on mine; I started to imagine her kneeling between my legs, her hair on my legs and her mouth kissing the inside of my thighs, moving ever closer. I started to feel a familiar itch.

I continued to watch her, they were quieter now and she had glanced around the room, our eyes catching for a fraction once or twice as she scanned the room. Perhaps they were talking business and she was bored too I thought, sipping my wine and then the coffee that the waiter brought. I lit a Turkish cigarette and inhaled deeply looking out across the city as the dusk fell. And then I felt I was being watched and turned my head to look in the mirror, catching this sexy woman looking at me. So.... she had noticed me! I breathed the smoke out, lifting my head and, brushing my hair from the side of my head, revealing my throat to her, feeling with a lingering touch of my fingers the tiny black leather choker I always wore with its tiny ancient silver cross hanging down to my cleavage, before returning her gaze. I smiled directly at her and crossing my legs, now let my fingers slide slowly up my leg from below my knee onto my thigh. The hem of my black jersey dress caught on them and rode up a little as my shoe dangled slightly on the thin straps. She quickly looked away, but soon I felt her eyes on me again. Knowing she was looking, I dipped my index finger into the cream jug and slowly slipped it into my mouth allowing a little to escape over my lips. With my finger still in my mouth I swivelled slightly in my chair so as to turn my head to her. Sliding my finger out I allowed my tongue to slowly lick the cream from my lips. She regarded me with a look that I couldn’t interpret across the room, but I swear there was some redness in her cheeks that wasn’t there before. I was enjoying this now and having got a bite, started to hope that I was going to be able to reel her in.

We held each other’s gaze for a while; she looked a little wide eyed. I thought she was gorgeous. The woman was now not concentrating at all on her companions and they had to work hard to bring her into their conversation. I could see that she simply answered with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to their comments. Her mind was on me. I fingered the cross as we looked at eachother, letting my fingers brush down across the start of my cleavage and smiled seductively as I stubbed out my cigarette. Grabbing my clutch bag I stood up and walked slowly across to the ladies room, passing close to the woman’s table as I did so. She looked down at the table as I walked by. I paused by the entrance to the ladies and looked back at her table. She was watching. I smiled, turned and pushed open the door.
... Continue»
Posted by Honeybabe 3 years ago  |  Categories: Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 1055  |  
  |  11


was thoroughly enjoying my new role in life. A slut for dad, whenever the opportunity presented its self, which was often but unfortunately like all good things never enough, as well as a live in unpaid three hole whore for my b*****r John for his use, this was usually very late at night when our parents were fast asl**p, which added to the taboo thrill of making love to my well hung b*****r. All this together with Linda, my b*****rs beautiful girlfriend, who as far as I knew had the tastiest wettest pussy in town and loved threesomes with John and me or just twosomes whenever I went to hers to stay overnight or weekends kept me content.

Although as I said I was very content with my lot I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be with another woman, other than Linda, after all I was presently receiving attention from two lovely cocks each one different and enjoyable in its own right, perhaps I owed it to myself to experiment some more with women.

I begun looking at the other girls in my year as possible candidates but although a couple took my fancy I was not sure whether it would be a good idea, what if it all went wrong, life at school could become very difficult. The more I tried to put it out of my mind the more the desire to get together with another girl grew. Surprisingly, my father of all people finally put me on the right track quite unexpectedly.

Dad and I hadn’t managed to do any fucking for a number of days, although I had taken to wearing no knickers at home, something I had made sure both dad and John were aware of. What they were not aware of was the fact that I was allowing them both the use of my body. Dad had managed to catch me on the upstairs hall landing where he had quickly fingered my tight juicy cunt a couple of times during the week, then licked his amazingly long fat fingers and jokingly told me how finger licking good my pussy tasted, unfortunately on each such occasion it was a bit fumbled as well as too brief, not long enough for me to cum on his long digits, which as you can imagine left me yearning for his giant cock and on the edge of cumming, so that I had to go to the bathroom or my bedroom and bring myself wet tingly pussy to orgasm with my own fingers which were no real substitute to a 10” long thick cock.

On this particular Saturday dad had said he needed to go to his office to finish off some work and asked if I would like to go with him and do my homework. I of course jumped at the chance, the thought of his big fat cock inside my pussy making me instantly wet.

I went straight to my room to get ready. I put a pair of white cotton knickers in my bag just in case, then put on a loose fitting short skirt but not too short and Zip up white blouse, which was just thick enough to allow me to get away without a bra as it was a fairly warm day and my nipples wouldn’t poke through. I then put on a pair of thin cotton socks which finished jut passed my knees. I hastily applied some make up, mainly lots of the bright red lipstick that mum used because I knew it was dads favourite. Finally, I threw a few schoolbooks in the bag to make it all look convincing.

We got into the car and drove off. Dad’s office was about half an hour’s drive away and I wanted his prick to be rock hard by the time we got there. I didn’t know if he had any work to finish or if it was all just a ploy to get me on my own, nor did I care, all I wanted was that huge cock to be buried deep in one of my holes and at that stage I didn’t really care which one, although my pussy was by now drenched at the thought and itching to be fucked making it probably number one in line.

“So dad what did you have in mind?” I asked innocently.

“Wait until we get there and do some work, then we’ll see.” He replied.

Like hell I was going to wait I thought, my pussy was on fire.

I lowered my bum on the seat at the same time hitching my skirt up so that my clean shave cunt was completely on display while my tight bare arse was sat on the cool black leather car seat. Dad hadn’t noticed my situation yet; time to make him take note I thought.

“But daddy look, my pussy is already to play now.” I told him holding my cunt open with one hand while running a finger from one end of my gash to the other picking up my juices on the fingertip.

Dad turned and looked as I continued to run the fingertip from one end to the other of my very wet pussy lips, I instantly saw the excited reaction in his eyes which almost popped out of their sockets as I offered my cunt juice covered finger to his lips which he sucked into his mouth instantly licking it dry with his hot wet tongue. I now knew that I had him where I wanted. I lowered my hand onto his groin squeezing his cock hard, it was only semi erect but we still had ten minutes of the drive left. I unzipped him and put my hands inside fumbling for the entry of his boxers.

“No don’t Sally, I’m trying to drive don’t do that stop.”

I could tell his protest was at best half hearted and anyway too late as my hand firmly encircled his semi hard manhood pulling it out of its confines, my head going down to meet it. I opened my mouth sucking his meat inside feeling it growing in its newfound oral cage as my tongue run up and down the length captured in my mouth, finally resting on the sensitive exposed gland between the foreskin and head causing him to moan.

“Oh god Sally that feels so good, you are a brilliant cock sucker you most definitely take after your mum, oh yes that’s so nice do that think with your tongue again ahhh yes that’s good sweetie oh yes that feels so good.”

Dad’s cock was quickly growing and my jaw opened as wide as possible to accommodate the 10” plus pulsating monster. I was busily using my other hand for my own needs as I slowly fingered myself with two fingers while rubbing my sensitive clit with my thumb. I wanted to carry on until my dad flooded my mouth with his sour creamy seed but he pulled me off him using my hair as leverage.

“We have to stop Sally, we are at the security gates and it wouldn’t be right for anyone to see my cock inside my daughters mouth would it?”

I sat up pushing my skirt down then tried to push his cock back inside his trousers but couldn’t it was so big and hard, dad reached behind him and pulled a file out of his open briefcase putting it on his lap to hide his hard on. He only just managed to cover his cock when we drew up to the gate, the security guard looked inside his eyes resting on my long outstretched legs the skirt barely covering my vagina, he licked his lips in appreciation, if only he knew how wet my quim was and what little covered it I thought to myself.

We were now in the underground car park and dad managed to stuff himself back inside his trousers. Jumping out of the car we got inside the lift where dad pulled me to him hungrily seeking out my mouth and sucking my tongue deep inside his mouth, the kiss unmistakable proof of the lust we both felt. The lift stopped at dad’s floor and we stopped kissing as the office had numerous CCTV cameras which dad was fully aware of.

Once we were finally inside his room he closed the door, relocking it, this wasn’t unusual as there were sensitive documents as well as a large amount of petty cash kept in the room, then he switched on the do not disturb light.

Dad, now fully satisfied with the precautions he had taken, walked up to me without a single word he lifted me up as though I was a rag doll and sat me on top of his desk, he had made sure in the process that my skirt had been lifted up to my trim waist. The urgency of his fervent movements fuelled my excitement as he got down on his knees in front of me his head hurriedly burying itself in between my wide open legs until his mouth made contact with my drenched labia, he sucked my whole cunt inside his mouth sending shivers throughout my body as his long fat tongue entered my quim licking the flesh inside the entry with big deliberate circular motions making me moan in ecstasy. I think the most apt description is that my dad devoured my cunt, making me writhe as I lay flat on his desk my pussy defenceless to the oral attack of his lips and tongue my juices running constantly and uncontrollably along my perineum to my arse hole until nature took over and gravity made our combined juices fall in a pool to the carpet below the desk. His tongue left my vagina only to be replaced by two fingers that buried themselves to the hilt in my hot cave.

“So Sally you like your tight little arse to be fucked eh? Well daddy is going to fill up all your tight little holes for you, your going to be daddies little fuck slut today aren’t you?”

“Oh yes please daddy, I’d love that.” I replied adding a little giggle for effect as I played along.

His mouth the keeper of his very useful tongue made contact with my pucker the mouth sucking it hard drawing it in while the tongue toyed with the tiny hole, when satisfied that I was wet enough I felt the long fat middle finger of his other hand push for entry, my rubbery flesh slowly yielding until the violation of my arse was complete, the finger now fully inserted to the hilt while my sphincter seemed to be trying to pull it further inside me almost sucking at his long finger with a wish to be dominated.

“Do you like dad sucking your little cunt, is he as good as Linda?”

I heard the question but was unable to find the words to reply my mind was just too confused with the wave after wave of pleasure that numbed it.

“Daddy is going to fuck you good today we have lots of time and no interruptions you are going to get all of my cum inside you today baby.”

Dad finger fucked my two holes, opening and closing the fingers inside me as if stretching me then pulling them back to the brink before pushing them hard back inside my warm clammy caves. His mouth returned to my cunt to lick me again his hand pulled back to give his mouth the necessary access as he reached up with his hand offering me my own juices which I greedily sucked off of the offered digits, once dry the fingers moved downward unzipping my blouse, freeing my orbs then pinching the already hard nipples one then the other sending a spiralling mixture of pleasure coupled with the pang of pain to explode in my brain. He moved now, his hand back to my cunt, which was nearing explosion level he buried three fingers inside my pussy the other hand still furiously fingering my arse hole as he fucked my holes in rhythm with the small alternative cocks on his dexterous hands. His head moved up furiously seeking my mouth which once located he attacked passionately capturing my tongue almost wrenching it out of my mouth as he sucked on it he then again abandoned my open mouth to suck on my areola and large bloated nipples one after the other he sucked hungrily on them his hands never slowing as his fingers continued their music inside my orifices. He then bit on each nipple in turn the pain adding to my lust finally I climaxed like never before screaming my body like a bowel of quivering jelly.



I expected for dad to stop now but instead he held my legs wide apart his head returning to my cunt as he feasted on the fruits of his endeavours until he had his fill of my thick cum, his thirst quenched he dropped his trousers and rammed my still recovering pussy with his huge cock driving it inside my juice box in one thrust before I had even time to catch my breath, it only took a few hard deliberate thrusts from his magic wand before I experienced another orgasm which hit me just as the last one finished making me scream even louder than before.


Dad pounded me with his giant rock hard cock, as though my cunt was the mortar and his cock the pestle until I couldn’t take anymore, he withdrew his shaft just as my cunt went into spasm and I lost control of my bladder peeing, it shot up high in the air like a fountain of molten gold before landing on my tummy all hot then dripping to the ground making me feel embarrassed as my pussy muscles continued to clench and release.

“Sally that was wonderful, I now know you must have really have enjoyed that, don’t look so down there is nothing wrong with it it’s a natural thing, now come and suck daddies cock like a good cock sucker.”

His words and gently way he had said it set my mind at ease and I eagerly got on my knees in front of him kneeling on the damp carpet my mouth readily wide open as I sucked on his cunt cum covered juicy prick my hands on his buttocks pulling him further in, my jaws just about able to stretch so as to accommodate his thick shaft, I begun breathing through my nostrils as he pushed his cock further inside my mouth until it entered my throat at first making me gag, pulling my mouth back, I tried again and again while he coaxed me until I was eventually able to let him fuck my throat.

“Oh yes that feels so good Sally, mum can do this really good its took her a while but she is really good at it now and loves it. Yes that’s it baby suck on dad’s nice cock get it all nice and wet for your little arse that’s my baby. God you and mum would be awesome together you really love sex so does she, maybe not as much as she once did but she loves it once she gets going, maybe she needs a change a bit of pussy eating eh like you and your friend Linda?”

Did I just hear all that or was it my imagination playing tricks, I nodded as I wondered what it would be like to eat mummy’s pussy and redoubled my efforts on his cock which I couldn’t wait to have up my arse.

“Yeah.” Dad continued “Mum liked girl on girl but only with her old friend Sue, do you remember her she’s the one that lives in Canada now. Yeah your mum loved doing it with Sue but in a small town likes ours she hasn’t found anyone she wants to take the chance of replacing her with.”

The more I heard the harder and faster I sucked his cock, god that sounded so hot, mum kept fit going to the gym everyday now she wasn’t working and her body was in fantastic shape, needless to say she was attractive, a lot of my looks and some of my b*****rs were down to her. I put the thought on the back burner as I sucked dad’s cock feeling it expand in my throat as he neared ejaculation. That’s when he withdrew the monster from my mouth.

“God you are good Sally, but I need to fuck your tight little arse I’ve been looking forward to it for a while. So get on my desk.”

I did as he asked.

“Now open your legs wide and put your head down, good oh yes that’s so good.”

His hands went to my arse cheeks drawing them wide apart like a pair of curtains then I felt his tongue as it licked my brown ring, first up and down then with circular motions like he had my pussy, he did this for a while then pulled my hands back so that my head rested on the desk.

“Hold it open for daddy darling, daddy wants to eat your pussy a bit get some more juices going would you like that?”

“Mmmh yes daddy.” I told him.

He was now back to licking my cunt which was still very wet, then he begun to push my pussy juices with his tongue along my perineum up to my brown ring. He seemed to carry on like this for ages and I could feel my arse hole was now saturated with my pussy juices and his saliva, so much so that it was gradually yielding to his tongue until I finally felt the tip of his tongue now made very rigid push inside until the tip gained entrance, he now finger fucked my cunt while continuing to wriggle his tongue just inside the entry of my arse. It felt so hot I was now almost ready to cum and his cock hadn’t even neared me.

“That’s good Sally you are nice and ready now use your hands on your pussy so that you are getting stimulation on both your fuck holes, you’ll love it, mummy does so I’m sure you will. Do you know how lucky you are to have three nice fuck holes, make the most of it but be careful and be choosy.”

That was the first fatherly advice he had given me for a while but I could tell how serious he was being. After all I was still his little girl and was sure he loved me, maybe even more that your everyday normal daughter father relationships.

I began fingering my cock tunnel while every so often running a fingertip over my clit all the time dad continued tonguing my arse hole, at one stage I thought he was going to manage to fuck me with it. Finally satisfied he pushed the head of the giant cock into the centre of my pucker and I felt the tiny now partly expanded hole opening slowly to accommodate him. Although this wasn’t the first time dad had fucked my arse it was obvious he was trying to make it more enjoyable for me than before. Once the head squeezed past the sphincter he stopped enabling my arse to become accustomed to the intrusion. I then felt him slowly begin to push again until all 10” were inside my rectum, god it felt so good and only weeks ago I would have said an instant no to this possible experience. Dad pulled his cock back just leaving the head still inside me then pushed all the way in, he did this a couple of times until he got into a rhythm and then begun fucking me in earnest it felt so good as I now plunged two fingers in my cunt and could feel the long thick cock in the other hole through the thin flesh wall separating the two as it went in and out like a steam piston, I begun using my thumb to rub my clit and was sent into another world full of pleasure. I could hear myself as though in some sort of out of body experience.







My screams seemed to spur him on as he rammed me while I now had four fingers in my wet cunt as I again exploded my sphincter trapping the cock deep in my rectum while my fingers felt the vice like grip of my young tight cunt muscles.



Dad pulled his cock out and came to the front of his desk pulling my head up using my hair as a grip he thrust his cock in my mouth which I readily opened wide so he could fuck it, finally I felt it expand in my mouth as he shot his thick warm spunk inside me almost straight down my throat, there was so much I couldn’t swallow it all and it dripped down my throat and onto my tits and the desk. Once I had sucked him completely dry dad pulled out his cock and watched as I collected his spunk form my body and his desk and stuffed it in my mouth.

“That’s a good girl Sally, god I almost wish I wasn’t your dad and I was a few years younger I’d never let you out of my sight in fact I wouldn’t let you out of my bed.” I could tell he meant it.

We stayed a couple of hours more repeating the days events until my pussy, mouth and arse were all worn out and I’m sure even mum would have had a problem getting dads cock to perform that night.

Eventually we got home, mum was waiting for us to have dinner and I was pleased to hear John had been with Linda all day as it would have been a bit awkward had he decided to come to my room that night as I was completely drained, however it’s surprising how quickly you can recover. That night in bed thinking about the day’s exploits and mum had me rubbing my pussy half the night until I eventually went to sl**p with a finger still inside me.

The following morning, Sunday, I went downstairs for breakfast and couldn’t take my eyes off mum. I had never looked at her as a possible lover before. She was very attractive, her body well toned with lovely large breasts that still seemed very firm. Her legs were long and shapely and her arse looked firm, I couldn’t see any excess fat or any wrinkles. For her age my mum was in excellent shape, remembering the night I had watched her and dad making love I recalled how wet her pussy had been and felt my own moisten excitedly between my legs. Yes that would be so hot I thought, sucking on mums pussy, like a sort of thank you for letting me out, I laughed inwardly at my little joke. The problem was how to get her to let me go down on her.

Thinking about mum over the next few days I eventually came up with a plan of action. It was her birthday soon and I felt that would be the best opportunity as dad had mentioned he would be away on business and Linda was going to a concert in London, where she was planning to stay overnight and had bought a ticket for the concert and booked a double room at the hotel for John, my b*****r, as a surprise.

The day came, I dressed smartly but clothes that would come off easily, I booked a table at mums favourite restaurant, I thought at the time dad was on a guilt trip at not being able to be home on mum’s birthday so he had given me plenty of money to keep mum happy.

We got to the restaurant at about eight, mum wore a black low cut dress which made her look years younger in fact she looked very sexy, fantastic, several men turned their heads to look at us as we entered the restaurant, mum was still so hot I thought.

We were shown to our table and sat down, I insisted we had a drink to start with, I ordered her a large gin and tonic using sign language for large to the waiter, as she was bending down to put her handbag on the floor, and ordered myself a breezer, we ended up with mum having three large gin and tonics while I only had two breezers.

When the food arrived I ordered a bottle of her favourite wine and while we talked I kept topping up her glass we finished off with a large brandy in her case while I had a small port. Mum was by now a bit tipsy, confirmation of the fact was her speech that had by now became slightly slurred. We paid and caught a cab home, I made her an Irish coffee with a generous helping of her favourite liquor. We went up to bed together and I kissed her on the cheek my hand gently pressing on the other cheek.

“Mum you know with Dad and John both away it feels a bit scary, can I come to bed with you for a while, like I did when I was little?”

“Yes sweetheart of course you can.” She said smiling at me.

So we entered my parent’s room and I quickly undressed, I caught mum looking at me.

“Oh Sally I didn’t realize you shaved your pussy darling, when did you start doing that?”

I was half tempted to reply with, well ever since Linda shaved it for me and then ate it until I climaxed in her hot mouth mummy can we try it out, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to mention that now, not when I was trying to get her to make love to me as though it was my very first ever time with another woman.

“Do you think it looks nice like this mum?” I asked as innocently as possible opening my legs wide while pushing my pelvis out giving her a good view of my quim.

She looked down her tongue licked her lips.

“It looks beautiful darling, I only trim mine now days.” She added as an after thought.

It was the invitation I had prayed for, “Can I see yours mummy, just to get an idea and maybe I might just trim mine in future, as it’s hard work shaving it all the time.” I gave a girlie giggle which I felt was necessary as part of the pretence.

Mum didn’t reply but continued undressing, she undid her bra and her wonderful orbs were free, now close up I could see she had large almost saucer size areola which were almost chocolate brown with big long dark brown nipples, which to my surprise were erect, I couldn’t take my eyes off them all I could do was stand watching and thinking how I’d love to suck on those long hard nipples. Mum bent down pulling her flimsy silk black thong like knickers down, her tits just dangling making me want to grab them with my hands. She kicked the knickers off, straightening her body now completely naked. I looked down and saw her short cropped pubic hair, my heart raced with excitement. After the revelations made by my father the day before I was sure that once I begun touching her pussy she would respond automatically as it was not something completely alien to her being with another woman, even if that woman was her daughter. I couldn’t very well just plunge my fingers in her pussy, I thought, no I had to be careful how I handled the opportunity otherwise I might never get another.

Mum sat on her bed as if waiting for me to speak so I did hopping the conversation would lead to something.

“That looks really neat mum, is that all the hair you have surrounding your pussy or is there some between your legs?”

“No sweetie, I think that’s all but to be honest I’m not sure as I haven’t looked recently but that must be it as I can’t feel any more.”

This was great she was falling for it hook line and sinker.

“Well I could take a peak mum since your already undressed, I don’t mind, really I don’t.”

She seemed to think for a minute and then she spoke again.

“Okay honey take a look and let me know if I need a little shave.”

Having said that she lay back on the bed spreading her legs for me, I was now staring straight at her pussy, the pretty pinkie flesh which glistened with her juice, a bit like morning dew on grass, was so inviting, the large inner lips protruded slightly although they were not yet fully aroused. How I managed to restrain myself form plunging my tongue inside her I don’t know, I wanted to bury my head between her legs and suck her well dry, it was then I noticed her clit was peaking out of its hood.

“Gosh mum what’s this?” I asked trying to sound both amazed and innocent at the same time.

“What’s what Sally darling?”

Yes god yes, the reply I needed came back.

“This.” I said my finger rubbing her clit quickly before she could say another word.

“Aaahhh.” She sighed, “Oh that’s mums clit sweetie, it’s big isn’t it, you’d… ohhh.. bettterr aaahh… aaahhhh… stop.. ohhh… ohhh.. god… musn’t… oh..god.”

I knew I had her and frantically rubbed the little nub that quickly grew erect, the pretence was gone now as I kneeled in front of her quim, replacing my finger with my tongue lapping her vagina like a puppy as her moans increased. I pushed two fingers inside her entrance fucking her, feeling her wetness as it quickly saturated her pussy, she was now in need the roles had been reversed.

“Oh..god yesss.. gooood… Sally… lickkkk… mummy.. yes.. ohh god yessss.”

I sucked, licked and finger fucked mums wonderful cunt, she tasted so sweet I couldn’t get enough of her juices.

“Lettt… lettt… ohhh.. goddd.. yess.. lett.. mummy… eat … youuu… yesss… mummy …. eattt…. youuuu… Sallyyy.”

I moved quickly clambering on the bed squatting over her head my cunt on fire before she had a change of heart as I again buried my head in between her thighs sucking on her now aroused thick pussy lips then moving up sucking her fully erect clit in my mouth, it was huge like a small cock it made even Linda’s clit seem small by comparison. I felt mum’s tongue as it begun to shoot in and out of my own hot cunt, then licking me with a fast circular motion. Her juices together with my saliva made a little stream running inside the small groove between her cunt and her arse hole, I moved my finger to her pucker rubbing the juices into her anal entry, she moaned loudly, I pushed my thumb until it entered her arse, fucking her arse with a rocking motion before plunging my four fingers into her soaking cunt, now both holes were being fucked and every so often I’d vary the motion by twisting my wrist.

Mum was also busy with her hands she had managed to push three fingers inside my pussy, while with the other hand she had managed to get a finger deep inside my arse while her mouth busily stretched my clit which she raked over again and again with her tongue. It was amazing the stimulation of the act itself and who I was making love to send my body into overdrive my hands a blur of speed as I thrust my fingers inside her receptive holes dripping with cunt juice and my saliva while she did the same to me obviously knowing from her own needs what was needed. We eventually climaxed together our bodies entwined like a pair of snakes, sweat from our exertion making our bodies slippery wet the air in the room full of the smell of our sex. We both screamed loudly as our bodies shook with the pleasure and continued sucking each others pussy as the cum poured out of us. Once we had stopped shaking and come back to earth we lay in each other’s arms French kissing, our sweet saliva and cum mixing in our oral palaces like sweet liquor. My hands busily massaging my mum’s orbs as I from time to time rolled her large nipples one after the other between my fingers and thumb.

The sudden loud clapping made us both jump up, we looked toward the dressing table where the sound emanated from and I was very surprised to see dad sitting on the stool clapping, I am sure mum wasn’t as surprised but I’m still not 100% sure.

“Girls that was amazing you have surpassed yourselves, especially you young lady, I wondered how long it would take you to get things moving once you thought mum might be up for a bit of girlie fun.”

So it was dad that had set me up not me setting mum up, I wondered if she was in on it.

Dad moved to the bed, he was completely naked and his huge cock stood away from his body like a drainpipe if anything it seemed even bigger than ever before.

“Now you’ve got me in this state, I think it’s only fair that you help me out.”

“My god Peter, just how long have you been spying on us?” Mum asked, but I was sure I detected some prior knowledge in her tone.

“Long enough to know just what a pair of horny sluts I’ve got in this house, now Ruth just suck my poor ignored cock.”

Mum opened her mouth and I watched as dad pushed his cock inside inch by inch until it was buried to the hilt, his huge sacks resting on mums chin, I could see the bulge in her throat as he begun fucking her mouth and her nostrils flared as she breathed through her nose. It was obvious that she had plenty of practice servicing her husband’s huge pole like this. I finger fucked my pussy as I watched the pair, mum was now lying across the bed her head just off the edge giving dads cock clear passage into her throat, the sight was awesome. I went down and begun sucking on mums huge nipples, nursing on them like I must have when she breast fed me, first I’d do one then the other. Finally dad pulled his cock out of mum’s mouth and offered it to me.

“Show mummy what a clever girl you are Sally, show her just how quickly you’ve learned to cock suck your dad.”

I smiled at the praise and lay down next to mum in the same position she had taken for her demonstration of gobbling. Taking dads beautiful cock into my own oral kingdom, I knew I had to go slowly to avoid gagging, so I sucked him in inch after glorious inch until I felt the head reach the entry to my throat and I breathed in deeply before putting my hands on his buttocks to pull him all the way in. Once in dad begun rocking back and forward, fucking my throat gently as I concentrated on my breathing and gobbling his tasty prick.

“Sally I can’t believe how well you’re doing that and at such an early age, you are definitely a cock sucker like me.” Mum laughed and then disappeared.

I soon knew where, as she parted my legs her lips soon making contact with my swollen cunt lips as she begun sucking and licking me again. She was good, as good as if not better than Linda, her long tongue slid in and out of my pussy bringing my juices to the boil again. Then she moved lower her hands replacing her tongue on my cunt while her tongue busily tried to burrow its way into my anal tunnel, licking my rubbery pucker and sending a tingling sensation through out my whole body. Soon she began alternating between my two holes until they were both sopping wet with my own cunt sap and her oral fluids. Dad, almost as if preplanned slowly withdrew his candy stick from my mouth.

“Now eat mummies cunny you little bi slut, show mummy all you know about eating fresh pussy.”

I went over to mum who placed a pillow under her back lifting her juicy hole up as she beckoned me to do a 69 with her.

We were now slurping on each other’s holes that’s when I suddenly felt dads huge cock slide into my open cunt as my mother held me open for him. I could feel the cock stretching my flesh as it dove ever deeper, once he was all the way inside me he fucked me with strong long deliberates thrusts. I sucked on mums cunt lips pulling them into my mouth my tongue playing with her warm cunt juice marinated flesh. I moved up to her clit sucking on it as if it were a toy version of dads cock, I pushed my palm inside her body fucking her quim with it while I inserted two fingers of my other hand into her anal passage which was lubricated with the commingled juices of her cunt and my mouth. I fucked her faster and faster as dad fucked me his paces quickening. Mum was the first to cum, she let out an ear piercing scream as I felt my mouth fill with her cum, I pulled my hand out of her cunt and watched the muscles contract and retract before burying my face back inside her thighs engulfing her cunt and feasting on her sweet sap.

Mum stayed still for a few moments getting her breath back before attacking my clit, sucking then licking it with her long hot tongue like a crazy woman while dad pumped me furiously, I soon let out my own screams of joy as my cunt exploded my cum spraying out like a burst pipe while dad continued to fuck me harder and faster than ever until I felt his cock expand inside my cunt tube as if it was going to tear me apart, instead I felt the warmth of his spunk as it bathed my insides, time after time I felt his pipe release more of his thick cream when he had eventually let himself cum, dad continued fucking me until he was completely spent and mum finally stopped sucking my clit to allow me time to calm myself.

As I tried to regain my breath I turned my head and looked across at the full-length mirror of the wardrobe, what I witnessed very nearly caused me to cum again. Dad withdrew his cock which was by now drooping and had loads of his white spunk mixed with my cum dripping off the end and offered it to mum who wolfed it down into her wide open mouth ever so slowly sucking it in until it disappeared inside and his softening balls lay on her chin while my pussy produced yet more of my juices as it dripped with the same mixture of spunk and cum onto her breasts, it was such a sexy scene watching mum sucking the cock which only moments ago had given me the most amazing climax while my cunt spilled the seed that had given me existence over the tits which had nourished me as a baby. I made to move off mum but she pulled me back on top of her and I lay there as instructed. When mum had finished sucking dads cock dry she started on my pussy slurping at my quim as though it was an oyster, I could hear her moaning as she swallowed my juices together with what was left inside me of dad’s spunk. It didn’t take her very long to arouse me again and I returned to her pussy my tongue delving inside her warm sex box as we both begun to moan loudly once again.

Looking to the large mirror I could see dad watching as we feasted on each on one another’s flesh. That’s when dad decided to join in the feast and he crouched down his hot tongue licking from one end of my arse crease to the other with long slow deliberate firm licks every so often spending extra time licking my anal ring or sucking on my brown pucker pulling it inside his mouth while his powerful hands prised my arse cheeks wide open he continued his lavish attentions of my posterior for some time and I turned to the mirror to see his cock was once again rigid. Dad now moved to mum, beckoning me to sit up so that my cunt was covering her mouth as she continued her pleasuring of my soaking cunny with her lips and tongue while dad lifted her legs up and positioned the head of his giant pole just inside the opening of her pussy.

“Oh yes please fuck me Peter, push your big cock inside me and fuck me hard, please fuck me now Peter.” Mum begged him.

Dad didn’t need any further encouragement as I watched his cock disappear in her smouldering vagina as he begun to fuck her furiously, his cock a haze as it entered mums pussy and then came back almost all the way out of her slit. Watching my mum being fucked was a huge turn on and I begun frenziedly rubbing my clit as I had the very first time I had spied on my parents making love, the wonderful difference was this time mums mouth and tongue were also servicing my desires as she sucked then licked my bloated labia as we both moaned loudly with the sexual pleasure we were each receiving. It didn’t take me long to cum and I screamed loudly announcing my orgasm. Mum sucked my quim hard filling her mouth with my abundant fresh cum as it literally poured out of me like bl**d from an open wound. I had lost count of the climaxes I had reached so far this glorious night.

Mum was now nearing her own peak as she screamed and moaned.





I looked down at her dripping cunt as dad withdrew his cock that was still rock hard he stood up on the bed straddling mums body as he offered the cum drenched cock to me and I sucked on it like a giant lollipop savouring the sweet taste of my mums cum. Mum’s body had now stopped writhing below me and I felt her move as she maneuvered her head so she was now able to reach my arse, still drenched with dads saliva from his earlier endeavours, dad took his cock out of my mouth my jaw ached as he bent down and kissed my mouth with passion, at that moment I would have done anything they wanted of me.

Dad got off the bed and moved behind me, he positioned his cock and pushed forward, I felt my well lubricated anal entry part as my sphincter allowed him almost instant access as I watched in the mirror, his long fat prick disappeared deep inside my rectum and he begun fucking me slowly, mum watched as the monster disappeared in my arse and then reappeared, every few strokes dad took his cock out and fed it to mum like some giant salami, her eyes were glazed over her face full of the lust that I also felt as she sucked on the huge slimy cock eventually dad increased the tempo and fucked me harder and quicker my body felt so content so full as he plunged his tool deep inside me. Mum now without a cock to nurse on went back to eating my quivering cunt to which I willingly reciprocated sucking on her bloated pussy lips until I felt dad’s monster expand inside my anal passage announcing the inevitability of his cumming, the warm spunk hit my passage walls with f***e as though it was fired from a gum as dad pushed himself as far inside me as he could while holding my arse cheeks wide apart as he grunted in satisfaction spilling his seed deep in my bowels. I climaxed almost the instant the first splash of his seed spattered inside me.




My climax seemed to spur mum on as she sucked on my pussy like a limpet even as my cunt muscles went into spasm while my sphincter squeezed hard on the violating rod as if in an endeavour to wring out the last drops of dad’s precious spunk as his cock kept throbbing inside me releasing more and more of its precious cargo. I was now like some woman possessed as I sucked hard on mums erect willy sized clit while I finger fucked both her orifices hard with four digits in her pussy and three in her arse all the while her juices poured out of her as if her pussy was the head of a big waterfall. I could tell she was now near to cumming herself as her screams became louder and her moans closer together. Dad withdrew his cock from my arse as I looked across at the mirror, dad, as if reading my mind again fed mum his spunk dripping cock which she gobbled down hungrily in one go even pushing her head upwards to meet it in case he had second thoughts and as if that was what she had been aching for all this time her cunt erupted like some previously dormant volcano as her cum gushed out like hot lava over my cheeks, I turned my head back sucking on her precious quim wanting to suck every last drop of her sap less it was wasted.

Having finished with dad’s cock mum lick my arse hole sucking out the last of dad’s creamy spunk. We finally lay on the bed with dad in the middle recovering from our efforts but still managing to exchange hot fervent kisses until we fell to sl**p. We repeated the whole thing next morning and many times after that.

... Continue»
Posted by sexaddict66 2 years ago  |  Categories: Mature, Taboo  |  Views: 1686  |  
  |  2

Restaurant Cherry

It started out as just another day in the week. Get up, catch the train in to town, go to work for 8 hours then catch the train home.

I work in a bank and have been in this branch for 8 years. I had started out as a teller and progressed through to the lending department.

There are a lot of really nice looking girls working there and some really good looking female customers as well. I’ve had a couple of girlfriends, but can take or leave them.

Ever since I was 17 I’ve wondered what it would be like to be with another man, to take his cock in my mouth, massage my lips up and down his shaft and then feel him forcing his way inside my bum and fuck me good and hard. I have a few gay porn sites saved as favourites on my computer at home and have spent many hours watching how it’s done, wanking and squirting in to my knickers. I do this so I don’t stain the chair or the carpet. Plus it’s kind of horny wearing knickers that are full of warm wet cum and pretending that it’s your lover’s cum.

I am now 27, so I’ve been doing this for a while now. Never had the guts to go to a gay bar or cruise club just in case I see someone I know and, anyway, I have no idea what to do or say, or even if I fancy men. Maybe it is the just the thought of doing something that’s been taboo among my f****y and friends.

I was checking all the overdrawn accounts, making sure that they were within the approved overdraft limit and making notes of those whose cheques would be returned, those who we would write to, and those that I would need to phone.

There is a restaurant that is continually over its approved overdraft limit. We have arrangements to phone them and find out how much is being banked and then get them to come in to the branch to do the banking so we are sure that we do not need to return cheques to control their debt.

The rumour going round is that the 2 owners are gay guys.

The owner called Dean is the one who comes in most of the time. He’s not bad looking, light brown hair, as tall as me and average build. I’ve had sexual thoughts about him and haven’t been turned off at all. In fact, watching gay porn and imagining that Dean is fucking me turns me on so much that I squirt pretty quickly.

Maybe this is the reason that I am particularly hard on them. I don’t want anyone to even guess that I have had those thoughts for 10 years now.

I picked up the phone and dialled their number.

When Dean answered I introduced myself. He knew exactly what I was after. He told me how much he had to bank but said that they had a very large lunch party coming in around 1 o’clock and that he couldn’t bring the banking in till mid-afternoon. This was too late for us but the amount of banking was so large that it would just about put them back in credit.

Dean asked if there was any way that I could come and get the banking. He said there was no cash, just cheques and credit cards.

I looked at my watch and told him that I couldn’t get there till 11.30 as I had an appointment at 10.

When I walked in to the restaurant at 11.20 it was mayhem. Waiters were running round setting tables, arranging chairs, writing menu boards.

I managed to attract the attention of one of the waiters and asked for Dean. The waiter looked me up and down and pursed his lips. “Well, well. Dean is definitely improving his tastes honey. This way.” He turned around and led me through the bar to an office out the back.

“He’s in there honey. ” He then blew me a kiss, winked and left.

I knocked on the door and entered. No one was there so I looked around the room. There was a large window looking out over one of the inner city parks. The window was framed by curtains that looked like heavy material. I noticed that one of the ends of the curtain was unattached and hanging a bit loose. A low 3 seater couch faced away from the window towards the back of the room. At the back of the room there was a large old style desk with a leather top and what looked like mahogany wood.

Each wall had framed photographs hanging on them. I walked around the room looking at each of the pictures. I was a bit surprised to see that each photo was that of a naked or near naked man. They were in poses ranging from lying on their backs with legs spread to standing up with hands behind their necks showing off their bodies. Those who weren’t quite naked were either in jeans with the zips undone or standing there showing off perfectly white briefs. The guys wearing jeans were showing a large cut, erect cock with a fleshy inviting head. Those in white briefs had their large hard cocks hidden, which left something to the imagination. The jeans were either black or blue in colour and the briefs were either Jockey Y fronts, Calvin Klein or 2(X)ist. The guys in Jockey Y fronts made my balls tingle and I felt my chest tighten.

My breath shortened and legs trembled as I suddenly remembered whose office I was in.

“Like what you see? Not bad are they?”

I turned around shocked to see that Dean had come in to the office and was watching me look at the photos.

“No” I said. I was so embarrassed that I didn’t know what else to say.

“Thanks for coming to get this for me. I really appreciate it. We’re so busy here at the moment. I see you have already met Shaun? Don’t worry. Most of us aren’t as camp as him. And, contrary to popular belief, we don’t want to screw every guy we meet”.

“What. Not even me?” It was out before I could stop it. I felt my cheeks go red and my mouth went dry when I realised what I just said.

“Well, maybe I might make an exception for you. After all, you do have a nice bum.” He winked at me as he said it.

“Anyway that’s not why you’re here. I’ll get the banking.”

He went round the back of the desk, unlocked the top drawer and drew out a canvass bag. He took the contents out and placed them in front of me. “I’ve got a couple of these bags so don’t worry about taking this one. I’ll grab another the next time I’m in” he said.

I made sure that the number of cheques and credit card debits were there, calculated the clearance fee, stamped his receipt book and placed the contents back inside the bag.

Dean looked me in the eye and said “Tell me. Which of the photos is your favourite? I mean, if you had to pick one?”

My eye went straight to the photo of a guy standing with his hands behind his neck, showing off his large cock through his white Jockey Y Front briefs. Dean laughed and asked me if I like to leave a bit to the imagination. “Or do you just have a thing for guys in white briefs?”

“What about this one?” he asked pointing to a photo of a naked guy lying on his side with a large perfectly shaped, hard cock.

“He’s not bad” I stammered. I felt my own cock leak a bit into my pants and knew that I was turned on being in Dean’s office talking to him about gay guys.

“He is nice isn’t he? Your bum reminds me of his.” He changed the subject quickly. “While you’re here would you mind helping me fix that curtain up there? Someone tall needs to stand on the back of the couch to re-attach it but he’ll need to be supported otherwise it could get a bit dodgy.”

“Sure” I said. “I’ll stand on the couch and do it for you. Just make sure I don’t fall off”.

I took my shoes off and got on to the back of the couch. It was quite slippery as it was a leather couch so I could instantly see why whoever was fixing the curtain needed someone to hang on to him.
Dean knelt on the couch behind me and as I reached up to the curtain he put his hands on my hips. My breath shortened again as he touched me and my cock leaked a little more.

As I reattached the curtain to the track he moved his hands and cupped them round my bum. He held me firmly, maybe more firmly than was really necessary.

I was having trouble reaching high enough as my shirt was tucked too far in to my pants so I reached down and tugged it out. That gave me enough freedom to keep working.

“Tell me. Have you ever been with another guy before?” The question came right out of the blue.

“No I haven’t” I said, very conscious of his hands on my bum.

“Not even thought about it? Ever?”

“Well yes, I have thought about it. Since I was 17.” Again something came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“And you’ve never done anything about it? Never been to a gay bar or cruise club?”

“No. Never”.

“What about porn? You seem to like the photos.”

I finished reattaching the curtain but stayed on the back of the couch. Dean started to massage his hands on my bum. Gently squeezing at the same time. I didn’t mind so I stayed where I was pretending to still be working.

“Yes I’ve watched lots of porn at home.” My voice must have sounded a bit tense and raw as his squeezing and massing intensified slightly.

“I see you’re finished up there. Be careful when you come down. Here I’ll help you” he said. He placed one hand on the small of my back and the between my thighs and guided me down on to the floor.

I was facing the window and looking out at the park when I felt him close to my left ear. “Let me tuck you in. Otherwise people might get the wrong end of the stick if you leave here like this.”
His arms circled my waist and his hands found my belt buckle. He slowly undid my belt and top button. The he took the left side of my pants in his left hand and slowly undid the zip with his right.

His lips closed over my neck and his right hand slid into my pants and cupped my balls, gently squeezing and twisting.

My breath shot out of my mouth as I gasped. My knees went weak and my cock leaked into my knickers.
Dean kissed and licked my neck. “Kiss me” he said. I turned my head and felt his mouth close over mine. His tongue searched for mine as we kissed passionately. I’d never kissed another man before but this excited me hugely. My cock throbbed a little and leaked even more juice in to my knickers.
His hand went into the waist band of my knickers and circled my cock. “Mmmm nice cock” he whispered into my mouth. “Turn around” he commanded.

Dean dropped to his knees and took my cock in to his mouth. It was hot and wet. I gasped again. It had been a long time since I had been sucked. His tongue licked the tip and then the shaft disappeared into his mouth. His lips massaged up and down my cock. I was in heaven.

He stood and said “Your turn now. Time to put in to practice all that watching from the sideline”.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me to my knees. He unzipped his pants and out flew this gorgeous cock. It was about 6 inches and reasonably thick all the way along, being slightly thicker at the base. It had a graceful curve which ended in a wonderfully luscious head. It was a cock that I had only imagined getting screwed by. The only pubic hair was a landing strip directly above the base of his cock. He obviously took great care down there.

He put his hand behind my head and guided my mouth on to his cock. I took the base of his cock in between my right thumb and fore finger, opened my mouth and let him enter. It was everything I had ever dreamed off. Enough to fill my mouth but not too much to stretch my lips too far. I put my tongue over my bottom teeth and moved up and down his shaft.

He moaned as I massaged his cock with my lips, up and down, up and down. I took it out and ran my tongue around the tip, licking it like I would lick and ice cream. I looked up at Dean. He was watching me, pleasure evident in his face.

“You look so hot with my cock in your mouth” he said.

He took his cock out and looked at me. He started slapping it on my cheeks and lips, teasing me by pushing it in and out of my mouth but not letting me suck on it more than a couple of seconds.

“Stand up” he said.

I stood up and he led me over to the desk. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed so I was leaning on the top of the desk, resting on my elbows.

He pushed my pants down to my ankles, lifted each ankle off the floor and threw my pants over to the couch. He manoeuvred my knickers down around my hips.

There was a large full length mirror on the wall opposite so I could see everything that was taking place.

He spat on his right hand and rubbed it all over his cock. He looked at me in the mirror and said “Time to lose that cherry honey.”

I knew exactly what was about to happen as I had seen it many times in the porn I had seen.
I watched as he positioned himself directly behind me and felt his hands part my bum cheeks. The fleshy head of his cock that had been in my mouth not too long ago was placed at the entrance to my love hole.

I felt a lot of pressure there as he tried to f***e his cock inside me. At first it didn’t work so he spat on to his hand and rubbed more saliva over his cock. He then tried again.

“Push your bum out a bit and go on to tippy toes. You’re very tight” he said.

As I did that I felt the tip of his cock part my lips and slide inside. I gasped and looked in the mirror. My mouth was wide open and my face was reddening up. “Oh fuck” I moaned as I felt the pain of getting screwed for the first time. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” I kept saying.

Dean took his cock out and rubbed my bottom making soothing sounds. I could feel my hole twitching as it tried to recover.

“You’ll be OK. Because it’s your first time it will hurt for a little while but it will get better” he said. I felt the head of his cock get placed at my entrance again. I looked at myself in the mirror as he entered without much opposition this time. Dean stopped as he got the tip through my virginal opening and asked me if I was OK. He was gently massaging my bum as he asked.

“Yes. Oh yes it’s nice. Keep going” I gasped.

Dean withdrew his cock, leaned over me, placed his hands on my hips, pulled me towards him and pushed the entire shaft inside me. I was breathing heavily and my mouth was open. He stopped when he was all the way inside me. He started to grind round and round, up and down, loosening me up even more.

“Oh oh oh fuck yes” I murmured. “Oh fuck me faster” I begged.

Dean took his cock half way out and then rammed it back in to the hilt. He started going in and out, in and out, repeatedly using my love hole to massage and pleasure his wonderful cock. My hole was burning and my insides were stretched and full of his lovely cock. I watched in the mirror as my cherry got well and truly taken by this masterful gay man. His face was gorged with pleasure as he continually rammed his perfect cock in to me. I could hear, feel and see his hips slapping against my bum cheeks with each thrust. He placed his hands on my shoulders and started to thrust harder and faster.

“You’re my little faggot bitch now. I’m gonna fuck you and fill your pretty little arse full of cock every day. Tell me you’re a faggot and you love it. Tell me you want me to send you back to your bank with your arse full of my cum. Go on, say it faggot bitch” he commanded as he continually fucked and fucked and fucked me.

“Oh yes I’m your faggot bitch. I love your cock fucking me. Fill me up with your cum. Oh oh oh fuck me harder and faster” I begged.

I watched as the words came tumbling out of my mouth and Dean fucked me with shorter, harder faster strokes. He had to hang on to my shoulders to stop me sliding along the desk. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. Finally, after 10 years I was getting screwed by another man with a perfect cock and it felt right, like it was something I should have been doing all my life.

Dean started breathing really heavily. “I’m gonna cum inside you bitch” he croaked. “Oh yes please. Cum inside my faggot hole. Fill me up.”

I watched as his face tightened, his jaw set and his lips pursed. He thrust all the way inside me and I felt his cock swell in size. He started throbbing inside me, unloading his love juice as far inside me as he could get. He withdrew and thrust a couple more times and I could feel his throbbing cock squirting load after beautiful load inside me.

When he stopped he slid his cock out, reached over to a box of tissues and wiped me clean. The he cleaned himself.

I pulled my knickers up and then put my pants and shoes back on. Dean handed me the banking bag and opened the door.

“Thank you that was really nice. You’ll have to come in for the banking more often” he said.

I was walking towards the door when I saw Shaun looking at me knowingly. As I went down the stairs to the road I realised my shirt was not tucked in. I stopped half way down the stairs and tucked it in. I reached around to my bum and felt my hole through my knickers. It wasn’t as sore as I had thought it would be. As I reached the street I felt the first load of cum leak out from my no longer virgin arse in to my knickers. It leaked out all the way to work and made my bum cheeks slippery and warm.

Dean’s cum continued to leak in to my knickers all afternoon. I tried not to leave my chair as I was scared that because my knickers were so wet with his cum that my pants were also wet and people would see. I was pretty sure that I could smell Dean’s cum through my pants. I thought that if I could smell his cum then other people might be able to as well.

I stayed at work until everyone had left, then walked to the train station. It was a really weird feeling. I could still feel where his cock had been, stretching, loving, filling me up. I looked every guy that walked past me in the eye with the knowledge that I was no longer a virgin and was proud of it.

When I got home I took my knickers off to see how wet they were. I could smell Dean’s cum in them and it smelt wonderful. My knickers were saturated. I knew that next time I would have to take precautions and wear a girl’s panty shield. After all, I couldn’t stay at my desk all the time.

And yes, there would definitely be another time.
... Continue»
Posted by Shyboy02 1 month ago  |  Categories: Anal, First Time, Gay Male  |  Views: 1864  |  
  |  2

We Never Made it to the Restaurant

Tonight my girlfriend and I have plans to go to a nice restaurant for her birthday. I don't usually do the whole romance thing, but I thought that this would be surprising to her, and she means the world to me, so I'd do anything for her. I was getting ready in the bathroom and glanced down at my half opened drawer. I grabbed a couple condoms out of the unopened box, hoping that tonight would be the night. I knew it'd be her first time because we've definitely talked about it before, and she trusts me. But her being a virgin, she was a little scared. I finished getting ready and got in my car to pick her up. The ten minute drive went by fast as a lot of things do when you're a little nervous about something, but when I arrived there and saw her, my heart stopped. Her beautiful, sexy body was pressed greatly to the inside of her dress. She looked amazing, wearing make up and everything, she's normally so plain, but even then she looked amazing. Now, she just looks fantastic. I led her down the steps into my car and on we went to the 45 minute drive to the restaurant.
"You look really good Coby," she commented.
"You look a lot better."
"You know what you should do? You should pull over, that's what you should do." she smiled.
"Pull over? For what, we'll be late." I protested.
"I'm not wearing any panties, I know you like that." I liked that a lot.
I hesitated but said, "there's a rest stop up ahead."
She bent down and unzipped my pants and took my 8 inch cock out. She started to work it up and down until I was rock hard and then proceeded to start licking my tip. She put her mouth over it and slid most of my dick into her mouth. I took one hand off the wheel and pushed her head down on the rest. She gagged but kept going on blowing me.
"Baby, that feels so good." I told her and she moaned in reply. My dick in her warm mouth felt wonderful and made me wanting a lot more every time she came up for air.
She came up stroking me still, kissed me passionately, and whispered for me to put my hand up her dress. I gently put my hand on her leg and said, "we're almost there, can you wait?" She nodded and bent back down to suck me.
I pulled to a complete stop and let her finish her work. She took all of my cock in her mouth when I felt the urge to cum. I took my cock out of her mouth and moved the party to the very back of my car where I have the seat put away.
She lay down right under me, still fully dressed while i took off my jacket and shoes. I told her to keep her heels on the whole time because I though it would be kinky. I lifted her dress and looked at her perfect, beautiful slit and started to rub my thumb through her lips. I spread her legs to get a better look and soon my cock was throbbing to get into her pussy. I could feel her getting wetter as she squirmed a little.
"Don't waste any time Coby, I want you right now."
She was just itching to get my huge cock inside of her. I took out a condom from my pants pocket and then took those off as she slid off her dress. She started unbuttoning my shirt and once it was off, she lay back down.
I got as close as possible to her and started kissing down her beautiful neck to her chest, unhooking her bra. She took it all the way off and I put my hand over her breast as she grabbed my cock and got me hard once again. I sat up and put on the condom. I got close to her again and looked at her.
"I want you baby, so bad. My pussy's so wet for you," she moaned as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered. I loved it.
I put my tip close up to her tight, dripping pussy and put a little pressure on her with my dick. She moaned and wiggled under me, "Coby, put it all in, I'm so hot for you baby!"
I put more of my cock inside her and could feel her hot pussy around my dick. I pulled back a little and on the way back in, I put more of my length inside of her as she screamed more then moaned my name. I did that a few more times until I was fucking her with all 8 inches. I leaned over her and she grabbed onto my hair as I'm thrusting my hard cock in and out of her body. I kissed her to calm her down as I saw her eyes go wild with fear. Fear of something I don't know, but I thought it was adorable which made me fuck her harder. She yelled in pleasure as I was giving her just what she asked for.
I stopped and let her climb on top of me, she knew exactly what to do and how to work my cock as if we've fucked hundreds of times before.
"Baby, I think I'm going to cum!" she cried out.
I got back on top of her, fucking her, harder and harder with every moan or scream she let out and soon felt the need to cum as she did.
"Ohh, me too baby," I told her, breathless.
I felt the cum start to fill up the condom and I let out a loud cry as she started to scream, moan, and pull on my hair harder.
After I finished, I pulled myself out of her and took the condom filled with hot cum off. I laid back down next to her and she curled up next to me sweaty.
Ten minutes passed of us just laying there when she asks, "weren't we supposed to be somewhere like an hour ago?"... Continue»
Posted by xcobyliciousx 4 years ago  |  Categories: First Time  |  Views: 443  |  
  |  2

The Infiltration


No, I'm not letting you go camping with your friends at Camp Parras this weekend," I said steadfastly. "The whole idea sounds like a recipe for trouble."

"Since I graduated, I feel that I can make my own choices, Mom," he retorted.

"But you still live under my roof. As long as that is the case, you will follow my rules," I replied.

It was an argument that my son Ken and I had been having for days. He had just graduated from high school, and several of his friends were planning to go camping at Camp Parras to celebrate their achievement and to say a few goodbyes before they all departed for college later in the summer. It seemed innocuous enough, but I knew what kind of trouble eighteen-year-olds could get into in such circumstances.

"I can't even believe that you are so fucking against this," said Ken. "We are only going to be there for six days."

"I don't care," I said. "If you go out there, you are not coming back to live under this roof."

Without saying a word, Ken stormed out of the room, muttering profanities under his breath.

I was okay with that. I knew that he was angry, but as a single mother, I had to stand my ground. He has meant the world to me over the years, and although he was old enough to make his own decisions, I felt that there were still times when I needed to steer him from situations in which he might encounter trouble or exhibit bad judgment.

Later that afternoon I received a call from my friend Tara. She is also a single mother, and has a daughter named Lacey, who is the same age as my son Ken. After some incidental chat, she asked me how things were going between my son and me.

"Not particularly well," I stated. "Ken is pissed at me for not letting him go camping at Camp Parras next week with his friends."

"Really? What is the problem that you have with it?" said Tara. "Lacey will be headed up there with everyone in a few days. She's excited about it. She even bought a costume to dress up for the parties that they have there."

"Tara, the problem is that they are likely going to be doing nothing but drinking and d**gs, that's what. That is what k**s that age do when they are unsupervised. Are you really going to let Lacey go? "

"Sure," she said. "I trust her. She is an adult now. She can take care of herself."

"I don't know, Tara," I replied. "A part of me feels the same way that you do, and a part of me is worried that Ken is going to encounter trouble if I let him go. I just want to protect him."

"Jill, I have known you for years. You are a reasonable person most of the time, but you have to see it from Ken's perspective. He is an adult now, and should be treated like one."

She had a point. Maybe I was being overly protective. Maybe I needed to loosen up and trust that my son could handle himself with his peers without getting into trouble. Maybe I was being too overbearing. Maybe I was afraid that I was losing my control over him. Maybe I was simply refusing to believe that he was an adult.

"Well, I'll give it some thought," I said. "I don't like the idea of him going there, but maybe you're right. I should probably let him make his own decisions from now on. I just wished that there would be some adult supervision at the campground."

"Adult supervision?" laughed Tara. "There you go again. You just can't let go, can you?"

"No, I can't," I replied. "At least I am honest about it."

"I'll tell you what," said Tara. "I'm off for the next couple of weeks. Do you have any vacation time that you can use to take off of work?"


"Okay, good. How about we rent a room up near where the group will be staying? We'll relax, have a good time, and at least be near them, if that makes you feel better."

"Ken would kill me if he knew that I was spying on him," I said. "Really. Do you know how un-cool he would look to his friends if they found out that his mother was following him around in the woods?"

"Jill, it is not going to be spying," said Tara. "We'll stay about a half of a mile away from their cabins. There is a lodge nearby with several rooms at which we can stay. We won't even be 'roughing it' so to speak. The place is more of like a resort in the wilderness. It will be relaxing and take your mind off of worrying the whole time."

I thought about her proposition for a few moments before replying. Going up there would make me feel a little better about things, although I was not sure why. And I could use a few days off to relax.

"Okay, we can go as long as you don't say anything to Ken, Lacey, or anyone else," I said. "This has to be totally between us."

"Not a problem," she said. "It'll be fun, don't worry."

Later that evening I apologized to my son and told him that he could go on the camping trip. He was pretty shocked, yet elated, about my reversal of opinion on the matter. By the time we talked, my friend Tara had already secured reservations at a lodge not too far from where Ken and his friends would be camping.

Ken left a few days later with his buddies from school. They were all in good spirits, and seemed euphoric about the trip. A day after they departed, Tara came by and picked me up, and we headed out to spend a few days at the lodge.

When we checked in to the lodge, we asked the clerk at the desk about the campground down the road.

"You mean Camp Parras?" he said. "Oh, that place is always crazy this time of year. It is all of those k**s who just graduated from school. They do nothing but party all week. It happens every year."

"About how many people go there, usually?" I asked.

"I'd say at least a couple of hundred, but maybe more. It is good business for everyone in the area, but they usually leave the place a mess by the time that they leave," he replied in exasperation. "Litter, beer cans everywhere, used condoms on the ground, you name it."

Both Tara and I were more than a little shocked to learn about how big the event was. We had both assumed that our c***dren were going camping with one or two dozen others. But hundreds? It became clear that the party was much bigger than we had thought, as it involved not only graduates from our c***dren's school, but other local schools as well.

For the next two days Tara and I enjoyed our time at the lodge, relaxing, hiking, and learning more about the area. There was a river nearby, and one early evening we chartered a boat to see more of it. The trip took about two hours. Since neither one of us knew anything about operating a boat, we hired a local guide to show us around. His name was Nick.

Nick was a local who made his living taking guests on tours of the lake and on fishing trips. He was probably about our age, in his early forties, and had a handsome ruggedness about him. He knew a lot about the history of the area, and it was fun to talk to him about it. He was a joy to be around. As we made our way down the river, we heard the sounds of music and the voices of people from along the shore. It was getting dark, and we could see a bonfire blazing into the dusk.

"What area is this?" Tara asked.

"Oh, that is Camp Parras," said Nick. "This is the week of that crazy party that those high-school graduates have every year."

"And somewhere among that throng of humanity are our c***dren," I said to Tara, nervously. "It looks crazy over there."

"Yeah, it looks pretty wild," she replied, her eyes straining to decipher the action.

"You cannot believe what goes on there, man," said Nick. "The police tend to keep an eye on things to an extent, but as long as they keep their activities contained to the property and don't bother anyone else, they let them do their thing."

I could only wonder what "their thing" entailed. It was too dark to see much, but it was clear that several hundred young men and women were having a good time. It looked as though some of them were wearing costumes. It was a Dionysian spectacle. After about ten more minutes, we turned around and made our way back up the river to the lodge at which we were staying. We thanked Nick for taking us out, and then Tara and I made our way to the restaurant at the lodge.

We were both starving at that point, so it was nice to be back. The restaurant had a full bar, so we both ordered margaritas, which went well with our meals. The place was fairly busy, so after we finished eating we moved up to the bar so that someone else could use our table. We continued to order more drinks, and pretty soon both Tara and I were feeling the effects. One of the effects was that it gradually loosened our tongues.

"Jill, do you see those guys over there?" said Tara, pointing to a couple of younger guys at the other end of the bar. "They look delicious."

"Girlfriend, restrain yourself," I replied. "They don't look to be much older than our k**s, but yeah, they do look tasty."

One of the guys was a fit, six-foot blonde with great muscle tone, and the other had dark brown hair and was equally well-sculpted.

"I bet both of them have nice cocks," said Tara, her eyes glazing as she licked her lips. "Would you fuck either of them if you had the chance?"

"I think that you have been drinking too much," I laughed. "We might need to call it a night, lady. You are talking like someone who has not been laid in awhile."

"I haven't been," she said. "We have both been single mothers for a few years, so you know how hard it is to find a good man."

"I hear you, but you are talking crazy. Are you ovulating? Try to keep the hormones under control and don't leave any wet spots on the barstool, okay?" I joked.

She didn't seem to hear a word. Her gaze was totally fixed on those two men.

"Jill, do you think we should go over there and talk to them?" she asked.

"And say what? Can I borrow your manhood for a few hours?" I giggled. "Aren't guys supposed to be approaching us, rather than the other way around?"

"In the wild, cougars are predators," she said in a deadpan manner.

Well, we were slightly older than forty, so we probably fit that tag. I could also see that she was dead serious about meeting those guys. I don't know if it was the effects of the margaritas, or the fact that I also had not been laid in months, but I kind of wanted to meet them too. There was no way that I had the courage to do it by myself, but Tara seemed more than willing to lead the way, if I approved. But should I approve? Or should I do the proper thing and get her back to our room? Ah, I was completely torn on the matter, but eventually gave in.

"If you go over there to meet them, I'll go with you, but you have to go first," I said, rolling my eyes. "But be nice, alright? Keep yourself in check."

Without saying a word, Tara got up and walked over to the two men. She said something to them, and then sat down. I stayed behind for a minute or two, but made my way over to them once she waved me over. Oh my, what am I getting myself into, I thought.

It turned out that the blonde-haired guy was named Kent and his brown-haired friend was James. They were nice guys, but they could not have been more than twenty-five years of age. They called themselves entrepreneurs, whatever that meant. We soon learned that they ran a business, in part, around the party at Camp Parras every year, which is the reason why they were in town. I didn't ask further questions about it. Although I kept a proper demeanor as we chatted, I could see Tara occasionally brushing her hand across Kent's hand and thigh somewhat invitingly. She was subtle about it, but even a man could pick up on that signal. It was an invitation.

"So what are you guys doing tonight?" asked Tara, looking down at her drink, as her index finger circled its rim.

"We have a little business to which we need to attend, but not much," said James.

Tara then reached into her purse and pulled out a pen. She scribbled her cell phone number as well as our room number at the lodge on a cocktail napkin, and handed it to him.

"I'm thinking it might be fun to get together with you two later in a place that is, well, maybe a little quieter and more private," she proposed.

Alright, Tara, you did it, I thought. You have asked them to come up to our room to fuck us. Initially there was no response from either James or Kent. They simply looked at each other, somewhat bewildered. It was a very awkward moment. I was beginning to think that maybe we were not attractive enough, or that we were too old to gain their interest. Although Tara and I look great for our age, we were at least fifteen years older than them. The silence was somewhat embarrassing.

Eventually Kent broke the silence. "Come out to our car," he demanded.

After paying our tab, we went out into the parking lot, where Kent and James led us to a beautiful Mercedes. Without saying a word, Kent opened the trunk and showed us what was inside: there must have been six pounds of marijuana and two pounds of cocaine sitting there, along with a scale, plastic bags, and a few handguns.

"Although we would love to take you ladies up on your offer tonight, we are d**g dealers," said Kent. "Don't take it personally. You are both lovely. We would love to get to know you better. We just don't know how long we will be working tonight."

"And . . . where are you guys going to deal tonight?" I stammered.

"Camp Parras," said James. "It is a great market for us every year. We come out of the event every year with tens of thousands of dollars."

Tara and I looked at each other in disbelief. Hmm, so the two guys we tried to pick up tonight need to go deal d**gs to a group of recent high-school grads that include our c***dren? We were both speechless.

"Listen," said James, "we like both of you. How about you come with us tonight? If you have never seen the action at Camp Parras, you will be in for a treat. It is a place where you can even be one, if you want."

I had no idea how to respond. Part of me wanted to simply have a quiet night at the lodge, where things seemed safe and secure, and part of me wanted to check out Camp Parras. After all, my son Ken was there for the week. Tara's daughter Lacey was there too. The only problem was that they might see us.

"Our k**s are there, so we can't be seen," I said. "I'm afraid we'll have to pass on the offer."

"No, you won't be 'seen'," replied Kent. "During the day, it is pretty much a regular camping atmosphere, with people cooking, boating, hiking, etc. But at night the camp turns into its own being. It is a tradition there. People wear masks that cover their foreheads down to their noses, and anything goes: d**gs, sex, booze-everything. Since it is night, we'll give you masks, and nobody will know you. You'll fit right in with everyone else. And don't forget that there are a couple of hundred people there. We have some extra masks in the car."

As I listened to Kent, Tara bumped me in my arm with her elbow. She was clearly up for it. I was still feeling trepidation about it, but I admit that I was very curious to see what went on there. Yeah, I wanted to go. Badly.

"Ok, let's go," I said curtly.

Tara and I got into the back seats of the Mercedes, with Kent and James in the front. Kent then started to drive towards Camp Parras. It was 10:50 PM at that point, and both Tara and I were half-d***k, but the adrenaline running through my veins was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was like a voyage into the great unknown. Just a few days earlier, I was arguing with my son Ken about his right to go to Camp Parras, and now I was in the backseat of a Mercedes with two d**g dealers on my way to the very same place. It was, to put it mildly, surreal. I felt like I was eighteen again. Quite frankly, it was a thrill.

What was a half-mile trip seemed like an eternity. Kent showed his pass at the gate, and then we proceeded to ascend a hill after which there was a steep decline. When we got close to the bottom, by the shore of the river, the bonfire was still raging, and there were hundreds of people dancing around it. The music, which was a strong, techno-beat pulse, was nearly deafening. Everyone around the bonfire was wearing masks and costumes.

Immediately upon arrival, two young men came up to the car and befriended Kent and James. They reached into a bag, and handed over a stack of $100 bills. At that moment, there must have been $5K that passed hands. I could not hear what they were saying to one another, as the music was too loud, but James opened up the trunk, weighed some marijuana and cocaine, and placed it in bags. After he handed it over to the buyer, another guy came over and did the same. Then another guy came over and did likewise. It was clear that Kent and James were selling to other dealers, who would then sell to casual users. And business was good.

At this point, Tara and I were still pretty removed from what was going on. About a hundred yards away people were dancing around the bonfire, and there were tents and cabins in the distance. We were simply watching d**g deals at this point, and it was getting somewhat boring. Both Tara and I wanted to be closer, but we had to establish our cover first. In between his numerous deals, I was able to pull Kent aside.

"Tara and I would like to get a little closer to the action, but we need those masks," I demanded.

"Jill, that is not a problem," he said. He reached into the car and gave us a couple. They were a little odd looking, black with glitter lining the sides, and small feathers protruding slightly from the top, but they would work.

"And how are we going to get back to the lodge?" Tara asked.

"When you want to leave, just call me on my cell," said Kent. "We'll drive you back. We'll be done doing business in an hour or two, but we might hang around awhile for the festivities. After all, we are humans who like to play too."

I did not really know what he meant about that last sentence, until Tara and I made our way towards the crowd. By that time, we had already donned our masks to fit in and be incognito. On the periphery of the bonfire, around which many were dancing, there were people engaged in acts that were pure depravity-or sensuality-I guess how it would be defined would depend on one's own moral compass. Simply put, people were fucking everywhere. I would say that about 30% of the sex acts that we saw were performed without condoms.

As Tara and I made our way through the crowd, we saw at least three guys pull out of girls, leaving their pussies dripping white. In one case, there was another guy who immediately moved in to have his turn. Yeah, there was a train coming for that girl, who seemed to revel in going to the destination to which that ride would take her.

Tara and I were both somewhat mortified to see all of this. She was more unnerved about it than I was, which surprised me, as I'm generally the more conservative one between us.

"What is going on here, Jill?" she asked in exasperation. "There is so much debauchery here that it is inexplicable."

"Are you worried about Lacey?" I inquired, knowing that her daughter was on the premises.

"How the fuck can I not be?" she exclaimed. "I was wrong about letting her come here, and you were right about initially not letting Ken come here as well."

"Oh, Ken will cum here," I added. "So will Lacey."

The activities going on at the camp were clearly as out of control as I thought they would be, which is why I didn't want my son to attend the event with which to begin. Yet the camp did have a "what goes on here stays here" type of atmosphere, so at least I knew that our k**s would likely stay out of legal trouble. There were no cops around. If they were going to be drinking, doing d**gs, and having sex, at least they would be able to crash on the premises, and not be driving around town d***k or anything. That made me feel a little better about things-actually, a lot better. And although I did not say it out loud, I admit that the things that I witnessed were rather arousing and stimulating. I felt like a hypocrite, really, for enjoying the scene so much, but it was just being human. After we made our way through the initial depravity, we decided to move beyond the bonfire and loud music to go into one of the cabins nearby. It was good to get away from the music, which was painful to our ears. Maybe we were just too old for that crap, but we had had enough.

Tara and I walked to a cabin in which, lo and behold, Kent and James were setting up lines of cocaine for everyone. Additionally, the place was filled with pot smoke. There were about thirty people there, half of whom were engaged in sex, and half of whom were doing d**gs. On the bunks, couples were fucking, giving head, or in 69s. The others were smoking pot or doing cocaine. Because Kent and James were the only ones who knew us in our masks, as they had given them to us, they were gracious hosts.

"Care for a line or two?" James asked us.

I had not snorted cocaine in about two decades, and part of me felt that I needed to decline the offer and be a good girl. But I was a fairly heavy user back in my youth and I loved that d**g. The chance to revisit the experience of that high was too tempting.

"Sure, I'll do a couple of lines, but Tara might need three," I replied. "She is a little uptight."

Tara and I both approached the table, and with a small, glass tube, snorted a few lines of cocaine. The euphoria was nearly immediate for the both of us. It was like there was a clarity and perception to the world that did not exist before. We were high, in the truest sense of the word.

"Oh my God, I feel good, Jill" said Tara, in a d**g-fueled epiphany. "Oh, shit this feels really, really good."

I could only laugh at her response. Later I learned that this was her first experience with it. She went from worrying to completely euphoric and confident in an instant. It was a good thing, at least at that moment.

In our cocaine reverie, we chatted with Kent and James, smoked a bowl of pot, and watched people come into the cabin to do d**gs and fuck. We decided just to hang out there for the rest of the night. In retrospect, the entire scene was crazy. But everything that went on felt good to everyone. Within those walls, there were neither limits nor laws.

Long after midnight, as things were winding down, two guys-one black and one white-came in to buy some weed from Kent and James. They bought a couple of dime bags, and smoked them in front of us in the cabin. They were wearing really cool masks, and their frames were rock-hard. They were beautiful young men. Tara and I did a couple more lines of cocaine, and we were riding the high, so to speak. We felt invincible. We were also feeling very randy. Tara looked over at me while pointing at the guys and nodded her head affirmatively. That was her sign for "let's move on these guys." I was all for it. We weren't even going to stop and ask for their names.

While the black guy was in between taking hits on his pipe, Tara walked over to him and gave him a deep French kiss. She then grabbed his crotch, and started to massage his balls through his shorts. Eventually Tara fell to her knees, unbuttoned his shorts, and slid them down his ankles, after which she started sucking his cock. She was a portrait of pure a****l instinct and, of course, like any guy, he did not protest. His penis was about four inches flaccid, but after Tara's lips and tongue urged it upwards, it reached its full length of seven inches. It was hot and heavenly to watch that thing grow. While Tara artfully ran her ravenous tongue in circles across his frenulum, I became eager to do the same with his white friend.

I leaned back on the table on which I was sitting, unbuttoned my pants, and shimmied them down to my ankles, before kicking them off to the floor. I motioned over to the white guy, took him by the hand, and started to suck his fingertips, while rubbing my pussy through my panties. He reached down with his other hand and assisted me. I pulled my panties aside and let him put one of his fingers inside me, after which he pulled it out and licked it clean. I could tell by his smile that he liked my flavor. I knew right then that we would be a good match.

I pulled him closer to me and we began to kiss, face to face, mask to mask. With our costumes, he had no idea that I was forty-two. He probably thought he was making out with an eighteen-year-old high school grad from another local school. He was a good kisser, and he smelled lovely, almost earthy, like pine. While we probed each other's mouths, I unbuttoned his shorts and started to rub his cock through his boxers. Once he was hard, I dropped to my knees and took his tool in my mouth, running my tongue along the underside of its head, before sucking it deeply. I knew that I could make him pop at my will, but I wanted to save him and savor him. I wanted his balls to ache for release, but to be denied. I wanted to tease him as well as please him, so that is exactly what I did. He may have taken a lot of classes in high school, but I was going to give him a lesson of a whole different sort.

Although there were at least a dozen people in the cabin watching both Tara and I perform these sex acts, it did not matter. We had been watching people fuck in the cabin all night, so it seemed like normative behavior at that point. Our new friends Kent and James were a few feet away from me. I think that they were thrilled to see me about to be fucked. Once my panties were off, and they could see my bare pussy, they took out their cocks and started casually stroking to my image. That made me feel good. Maybe I am still attractive after all of these years.

Across the room, Tara was looking quite fine in her own right, as she was getting worked over by the black guy. In a deep embrace, they fucked in the missionary position for several minutes, kissing passionately. Beads of sweat dotted their frames as they moved rhythmically as one. They were beautiful. It was obvious that the guy had already blown some cream into her, as one could see it foaming on his cock during his strokes, but the visual was a reminder that one of the great benefits of men his age is that they can have multiple orgasms. He was clearly going to empty himself into her again.

After I finished my oral tease on my masked lover, I lay back on the table, spreading my legs for him. With his cock in his hand, he eagerly moved in between them, parting my labia with his purple, bulbous head. Oh my, every millimeter of his six inches felt good, and we both moaned softly, as we rocked in unison. He was very tender and loving, kissing my neck while thrusting. Probably due to his inexperience with feeling a pussy, within about two minutes his breathing quickened and deepened. I knew that he was about to lose it. Seconds thereafter I could feel his cock pulsating, spasming, and delivering forth. After his orgasm subsided, I could sense that he was about to apologize for coming too quickly, but I stopped him, and pulled him close to me.

"Don't say anything. Not a word. Stay in me, baby." I whispered. "Stay in me until you get hard again."

His cock was softening, but I held him by his hips, and kept him inside of me. I could feel his jizz running from my pussy and down my ass. I tried to use my vaginal muscles to grind and squeeze him back into firmness, while kissing him deeply on his soft, supple lips.

"That's it, honey," I whispered in his ear encouragingly, as I held him tightly, grinding him. "That's it."

It was only a matter of a few minutes before he was hard again. Feeling him go from hard, to soft, to hard again was incredible. We picked up where we had left off: that is, fucking each other senseless. After a good twenty minutes, and after I had three orgasms, he came again, and collapsed on me in exhaustion. Together we lay arm in arm, as a pile of sweaty, spent, creamed flesh. Masked and sweaty, we were two spirits united as one. It felt like perfection. At that moment, there was nothing beyond us.

"You felt amazing," he whispered, before pausing. "I have a question," he added.

"What?" I whispered back in a daze.

"Can I see you without your mask?" he asked.

I was too screwed up to respond right away, really. Booze, marijuana, cocaine, endorphins from orgasms-I was a human cocktail. But he was an exceptionally good fuck, and I was willing to along with it.

"I'll lift up my mask if you do yours at the same time," I said, also curious to see who I just fucked.

"Okay, that's fine," he said. "Let's do it on the count of three. One...two...three..."

I took off my mask and my partner took off his. What I saw was unbearable.

"Ken?!?!" I exclaimed in a raw gasp.

It was my son. Out of the couple of hundred people there, I ended up fucking my son by accident. The look on Ken's face as he peered into my eyes was disbelief and horror all wrapped into one. He didn't say a word, but the trauma on his face spoke volumes. He squinted his eyes and shook his head, probably hoping that it was a bad dream. No, it wasn't a dream, but it was excruciatingly bad.

I didn't say another word. I just held him in my arms as tightly as I possibly could. People in the cabin were laughing, but I simply held him.

All of a sudden we were in a different kind of wilderness, completely alone among wolves.... Continue»
Posted by mikejwz19995 4 months ago  |  Categories: Taboo  |  Views: 3143  |  
  |  1

Back at the restaurant for round 2 (Julia's P

Today was my first shift with Chris & John since I gave them the double blow job. We’re good friends, so I’d been expecting things to be a little weird between us, but I was pretty relieved to find my work atmosphere hadn’t been altered. I’m sure their opinion of me has changed, but it felt as if it was any other work-day.

The day passed pretty quickly, and before long we were in the same post-lunch lull that ended with me fooling around with them a few days ago. The three of us were sitting around chatting in the back when one of them finally brought it up, jokingly asking if I was horny again today. A minute later and I’m topless, and on my knees in front of the guys again. My hands work their dicks, getting them hard before I wrap my mouth around them, one after the other, sucking them like the pro I am. The guys keep their hands busy with my tits as I work each one for a minute, before giving the other some attention. This time no one interrupts us, and I’m able to finish the job with my own hands and mouth. As John gets close he tells me he wants to cum on my tits and watch me work again, telling me how hot it was. Chris agrees, saying it was the hottest, sluttiest thing he’d ever seen.

John starts to moan and I close my eyes with enjoyment. I feel his dick start to throb in my hand and them warmth and wetness on my breasts as he blows his load. I feel him ease the tip of his dick to my nipple, where the last of his cum drips out and gets spread around. Chris has been watching me, and as soon as John moves it’s his turn to blow an impressive load all over my right breast. With my tits covered in cum, I grab my bra and throw it back on. The top of my breasts are still glossy, but unless someone looks right down my shirt, no one will notice.

It’s dead, so the three of us just hang out in the back chatting for a while. I’m still topless, just in my bra, when Chris gets up and pulls his dick out and comes over to my side. I don’t even hesitate, just take him in my mouth again and let my lips and mouth work their magic. I suck him while John watches, stroking himself, until Chris is ready to cum again. In a flash, he pulls one of my bra straps of my shoulder and pulls the cup away from my body and I slide his dick in the gap. I feel his dick spasm while pressed up on my breast, but none of the warmth. When I look down, his load is splattered over the inside of my bra cup. I let go of the edge and my bra presses back up against my tits and I feel it now: Warm and messy all over my breasts. I slide my shoulder strap back on and now I’m carry three loads in my bra.

Finally a customer breaks our fun and I have to go out and serve her. It’s an unobservant older lady who a bit of a regular. She doesn’t seem to notice a thing while I serve her, and soon I’m in the back again as she enjoys her meal. John moves towards me almost as soon as he sees me. He’s got his dick out and he’s hard as a rock and soon I’m sucking him off for the 2nd time today. He asks me if I’ve ever let a guy cum in my face and I almost laugh, but instead just say “yes”. Truthfully, the thought of my friend blowing his load in my face turns me on, so I tell him I want him to do it to me. I even beg him a little. Chris walks in just in time to watch me tilt my face up towards John’s dick and take his cum all over my cheeks and chin. He’s got this look on his face that says “Holy fuck, why didn’t I think of that” before we realise that someone else is in the place. Since my face is covered in John’s cum, Chris leaves to take care of the customer while I playfully suck the last of John’s boner. By the time I’m cleaned up and go to check on the lady I’d been waiting, she’d finished her meal. The restaurant is picking up and we’re busy again. Soon it’s the end of my shift, and once again I’m eager to get out of there and clean up. The guys want to go out for beers but I remind them what state I’m in and tell them maybe next time.
... Continue»
Posted by abcsofnature 1 year ago  |  Categories: Fetish, Group Sex, Hardcore  |  Views: 80  |  
  |  2

The Most Perfect Girl

I opened my eyes, blinded by the sun pouring into the room through my window. I rolled over to look at the clock. It was only 9AM. I tried to go back to sl**p, but I just couldn’t. 9AM on a Sunday was too early for me. I was usually asl**p until noon at the earliest. But today was different. Today, fate stepped in.

I sat up, pulled the covers off, and stood up. Being up this early really was a hassle; I could barely stand. Something had to be done. If I couldn’t go back to sl**p, I had to find a way to wake up. Completely.

I got a shower. Didn’t work. I got dressed and went into the living room to watch TV. I was still way too tired. I went into the kitchen to find coffee. We were out. I had one option: go out and get coffee. I didn’t have a car, so I had to walk, but luckily there was a Starbucks a few blocks away.

I grabbed my wallet and my keys and headed out. It took me no longer than ten minutes to reach my destination, for which I was very thankful. The cold weather was not pleasant, especially so early in the morning. But the heat of the building warmed me up instantly.

I stood in line for a few minutes. When I got to the counter, I ordered a tall latte with extra foam. I needed that extra sugar, especially today. I paid, got my latte, and turned toward the door to leave. However, something caught my eye as I did so: quite possibly the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in my entire life, without a doubt. It was remarkable. She was sitting at a table across from her friend, clearly in conversation. It was a good thing, too, because had she not been distracted, she’d probably notice me staring at her.

From the fifteen-foot distance, I could see her piercing blue eyes. She was wearing a black bucket hat that covered most of her wavy, shoulder-length, brown hair. Her lips were pout and perfectly-shaped and she had a perfect snub nose. She was just perfect. From the moment I saw her, she looked...well...perfect.

I watched her nod as her friend told her something very clearly interesting. Then she smiled. And boy, was it an incredible smile. She had two subtle dimples, and her teeth were as straight and white as they could be. And most importantly, it was genuine. She looked legitimately happy when she smiled. It was the kind of smile that made you wish she was smiling all the time.

“Excuse me,” someone said from behind me. I was blocking their way out, as I had been standing at the door, watching this girl, for nearly two minutes now. I decided to sit down and drink my latte.

I took a table a few places across from her, so I could get a good view. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was watching her, but I wanted to be able to see her. Then she stood up. She left her coffee cup on the table and walked toward the restrooms. She wore a black quilted puffer jacket that came down below her butt (unfortunately), skinny jeans, and mid-calf, tan Uggs with fur. She looked fantastic.

I only had a a couple of minutes to act. She was gone, to the restroom, and she would be back soon. So I got up and sat in her seat, across from her friend.

“Hi,” I said.

“Uh...hi?” She was obviously confused, and I didn’t blame her.

“I’m Alex.” I held out my hand to shake hers. She reciprocated.

“Tina.” She raised her brow and smiled a bit and she shook my hand. She was still quite baffled.

“Your friend.” I said, with no elaboration. She let out a small chuckle and looked down.

“Oh.” She was smiling, but you could tell she’s gotten this before, and she was quite annoyed by it. “You want her number.” I was actually taken a little off guard. What did I want? I had no idea. I went over, planning to talk to her friend, but why?

“Her name will do for now,” I said, trying to keep my composure. Tina didn’t seem too happy that I was doing this. She just shook her head and smiled a fake smile. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I did this. To be honest, I’ve never actually asked a stranger out.” This was one hundred percent true. In fact, I’d never asked any girl out. Ever.

Just then, I saw Tina’s eyes shift up and over my shoulder, and I heard a voice from behind me: “You’re in my seat, stud.” I froze. Slowly, I turned around to see the most beautiful girl looking down at me. She gave me a faux smile, and I stood up.

“I’m--sorry.” I lost my breath mid-sentence. She sat down in her chair, as I stood next to the table, not looking at either of them.

“Well? Who are you?” she asked. She smiled. “Did I just interrupt your game? Were you asking Tina out?” She looked at Tina and smiled. Tina did not reciprocate. Seeing this, the beautiful girl stopped smiling and looked at me. “What?”

“I--um...” I was at a loss for words. This was just as hard as I’d imagined it would be. “I came over to ask you out.”

“Well why did you wait until I wasn’t here?”

“I have no clue, to be honest.” I let out a nervous laugh. She shook her head, smiled, and held out her hand.

“I’m Amber,” she said, looking me in the eye. I now saw that her eyes were not merely blue. They were blue-green, and they pierced my own.

“I’m Alex,” I said, shaking her cute, petite hands. She had a glossy greenish-blue nail polish on to match her eyes. After we finished shaking hands, I continued to stand there awkwardly. She laughed.

“It was nice meeting you, Alex, but we have to go.” She and Tina stood up and headed for the door, leaving me standing at the table. I didn’t look to see that they left, but I heard the door. It took me a few moments, but I mustered up the courage. I followed her.

I left the building, into the immersive coldness, but it didn’t phase me. I turned left after them. I walked quite briskly, and as I reached them, I made the strange decision to grab Amber by the arm and stop her. Her immediate reaction was to pull away. She turned, and seeing it was me made no difference. She was puzzled. She didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, but I have to say it.” The words just came out of me. “You are quite possibly the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I know that’s probably a weird thing to say to a complete stranger, but it’s true.” She had her mouth open, half-smiling “I’m sorry,” I added. She turned to Tina, her mouth still ajar.

“It’s not weird at all!” she said. It was clear she wanted me to say something. She just looked at me, smiling.

“Really?” It was all I could come up with.

“Really!” She was very clearly taken aback by this, which surprised me; a girl as beautiful as her, you would think she’d heard this all the time.

“Okay,” I said. “ you wanna go out sometime?” I was still nervous as hell. She could still say no.

“How ‘bout if I give you my number? You can call me.” I handed her my phone and she inputed her number. She handed it back, smiling. I smiled back. “Okay?”

“Yeah! Great!” She and Tina turned and continued walking. I stood, rooted to the spot, feeling an incredible sense of elation. I just asked the most beautiful girl in the world out. And she said yes!

Seeing as how it was a Sunday, and I had class throughout the week, I wasn’t going to call her before Friday. However, on Friday, I sat on my bed, and held my phone in my hand, her number ready to call, my thumb over the ‘send’ button. I knew I wanted to, but I didn’t know what I was going to say. Finally, after a few long minutes, I pushed ‘send’. The phone rang. Again.

“Hello?” her beautiful voice said on the other end.

“Hi, Amber?” I said.


“Hi, this is Alex. From Starbucks.”

“Hi, Alex!” she sounded happy to hear from me.

“Hey! What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” She hesitated. “Tonight I’m actually...completely free.” My heart leaped out of my chest.

“Great! Wanna meet at Santa Monica Pier?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! What time?

“Um... six o’clock?”

“Awesome! Meet at the Ferris wheel?”

“Sounds good!”

“Okay, Alex! See ya later!”

“Bye, Amber!” I hung up, my heart beating fifty times a second. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d never been on a date, let alone with a girl as gorgeous as Amber. And she was enthusiastic about it, too! This was just great!

A couple hours later, I headed out the door, wearing a grey sweater over a long-sleeve, white, button-up shirt, and jeans. I was wearing my favorite cologne, dressed to impress.

I called a cab to meet me out front of my apartment building. I got in, told him where to go, and he was off. The cab ride might as well have lasted three hours. The nerves and the excitement built up inside of me.

The cab pulled up at the top of Santa Monica Pier. I stepped out of the cab, and walked down the pier, toward the ferris wheel. As I got closer, I could see her sitting on a bench, legs crossed, just observing. Most girls would be on their phones or something. Not Amber. She was something special.

As I got to about ten yards away, she spotted me. “Hey!” she shouted, as she got up and enthusiastically walked over to me. She immediately gave me a big hug, and as I hugged her back, I smelled her hair. It smelled of fresh coconut.

“How are you?” I asked as I took a look at what she was wearing: a maroon leather jacket, black leggings, and those famous calf-high tan Uggs. She was stunning. “You look...” I couldn’t think of the appropriate word. She looked at me, half-smiling, waiting for the word. “...incredible.”

“Thanks!” she said with such enthusiasm. I could tell she was genuinely excited to be on this date, perhaps just as much as I was. We began walking toward the end of the pier. “So,” she said. “What do you wanna do?” Luckily, I had put some thought into that.

“I was thinking we could go to Mariasol Cocina.” And so we did. We ate dinner and talked for a long time. I found out she grew up in San Francisco; that her favorite color is green (just like mine); that her favorite movie was Titanic (it’s one of mine, as well); that her parents were divorced when she was little, and her dad moved to LA, so that’s why she was here now; that her favorite musician in Frank Sinatra (he’s one of mine, as well), and so many other things. It was truly one of--if not the best--meals of my life.

After dinner, we decided to go for a walk on the beach. We walked for about a mile, telling each other about ourselves. After a mile, I just decided to plop down and sit in the sand. She laughed and sat right next to me, and we sat and talked for a while, watching the tide and the moon and the stars. I don’t remember how it came up, but I eventually told her that this was my first date....ever.

“Really?” she responded. It wasn’t an are-you-serious kind of response. It was more of a legitimately surprised response, which made me feel good.

“Yeah. I’ve always been too shy to ask a girl out. Which means I’ve never even had a girlfriend.” I didn’t feel ashamed to tell her that. I felt--even after just a few hours with her--that I could trust her. And she confirmed that.

“That’s okay,” she said, assuringly. We both collapsed to the half-laying, half-sitting position by now. And for a good two or three minutes, we just lied down and watched the tide and listened to the waves crashed. I looked over at her beautiful face, lit by the moonlight. She didn’t see me. It was clear she was thinking about something, and it wasn’t long before I knew what it was. “You’ve...kissed a girl before, right?”

I was taken off guard. The truth was, no, I hadn’t ever kissed a girl. But I couldn’t tell her that. What would she think of me? But it was evident, by my hesitation to answer, that the answer was no. She looked right at me and said, “Alex, it’s okay if you haven’t. I’m just asking.” I still wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just said...

“No.” She smiled at me and let out the smallest of giggles. She turned and continued to watch the tide for a few moments, then said...

“Do you want to?” My stomach dropped. I let out a nervous laugh. She didn’t even smile.

“What---really?” was my lame response. I could have just rolled with it and have been so smooth, but instead I chose that. But it didn’t matter, because seconds later, she moved in and pressed her lips against mine. They were as soft as I’d imagined them. It was a gentle kiss, but I’d still never done this, so I had no idea if I was doing it right. But it felt right. I was enjoying it, and she seemed to be, too.

After about ten seconds, she pulled back. I was left speechless. She just looked at me, awaiting some sort of approval. “Well?” she said. I was at a complete loss for words.

“It was, uh... It was--good,” I managed to mutter. She giggled.

After a little while, we decided to get up and walk back to the pier. When we did so, Frank Sinatra’s ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ was playing. It was almost too perfect. We had a laugh, but I don’t think she expected me to hold my hand out and say, “May I have this dance?” because her eyes widened and she smiled so wide as she took my hand. We danced to the rest of the song. She laid her head on my chest as she softly sang along with the tune. I joined her.

We were so lost in the crowd, that nobody had probably even noticed. But I wish they had. I wish they could see the amazing girl I was dancing with.

When the song ended, I called a cab for us, and we decided to make our way back up the pier. She decided she wanted to race up. Me, being the lazy person I am, allowed her to get far ahead of me. This was the first good look I had at her butt, and boy, was it perfect. Perfectly-shaped, just the right size, not too round, not too tight. And the leggings accentuated it perfectly. I felt myself become ever so slightly larger in my pants at the sight of it. What I would give to hold it firmly in my hands.

We got into the cab that was waiting for us and told the cabbie to go to Amber’s place. We talked a little but, but the drive was only about ten minutes long, and we’d already talked so much. Plus, we were both so tired. It was midnight by now.

We arrived at her place. She lived with her dad in Toluca Lake. It was a very nice house. I walked her to her step, telling the cabbie to wait for me.

We stood on her doorstep, looking at each other for a few seconds, then began laughing. Laughing at what? I don’t know. But when the laughter died down, I looked at her in her beautiful blue-green eyes and she looked back into mine. There was quite a bit of tension before I slowly moved in. I went ninety percent of the way, and let her go the other ten (I’d learned that from Will Smith). Once again, her moist, soft, pout lips were frisking with mine. This time, however, I took her by her waist and pulled her up against my body. She placed her hands on my chest as we continued to lock lips. I ran my hands up her waist, to her sides, and around to her back.

As much as I wanted to use tongue, I didn’t know anything about kissing, so I didn’t want to do anything weird. So she did it for me. I felt her tongue push its way into my mouth, and so I put mine in hers as well. I was lost in this kiss. You could have hit be over the head with a tire iron, I would not have noticed.

Finally, after about fifteen or so seconds, I slowly slid my hands down her back, to her lower back, to the start of her butt. I stopped there. But I figured, if she wanted me to stop, she’d have stopped me by now, so I went the rest of the way. I placed my hands over her nice, juicy butt. I just left them there for a few seconds, then gently squeezed. It felt just as incredible as I’d imagined. And the leggings made for the perfect access. She was definitely wearing a thong, too, because I didn’t feel any panties or panty-lines. With that, I felt myself grow slightly larger again, and this time, I was pressed right up against Amber. I was sure she could feel it. But if she did, it didn’t phase her. We just continued kissing.

Sooner or later, one of us had to end the kiss, and I decided it should be me. I didn’t want to be the one in the palm of her hand. It’s just a control thing.

I walked back the cab the happiest man alive.

I lied in bed that night, trying to go to sl**p, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her: her smile, her eyes, her lips, her perfect body, her soft tan skin, and her fantastic butt. But most of all, her incredible personality. Part of the reason I never had a girlfriend was because I was so picky. But this girl was just perfect. There was no other way to describe her. She was perfect.

There were so many things on my mind over the next several days. I so badly wanted to see her again, but she was too busy. We texted back and forth every night, talking about our families, our c***dhoods, and lots of other things. But that wasn’t enough. I wanted to hold again, feel her lips against mine, and squeeze her butt. Every time I thought about her, I not only felt happy and a sense of elation, but I also got slightly aroused. There were a few nights that I would jerk off just to the thought of her. It wasn’t until two weeks had gone by that I got to see her again.

We were Facebook friends by now, and it was there that we planned our second date. We agreed on dinner and a movie. The night of the date (Saturday), I got the mixed feelings of nervousness and excitement in my stomach. Despite having been talking to her for at least two hours almost every day, it felt like it had been forever since the last time I’d seen her, and I was excited beyond my wits to be seeing her again.

I called a cab to pick her up. We got to the restaurant at about 6PM. Because I’d made a reservation, our table was ready. The hostess led the way to our table. I let Amber walk in front of me, mainly for chivalry reasons, but also because I wanted to check her out in her skinny jeans. Once again, her butt looked too perfect for words. She was also wearing the same red leather jacket she’d worn on our first date, and the bucket hat she was wearing when I first saw her at the coffee shop.

We got to the table, and I pulled her chair out for her. For some reason, she seemed surprised at this. I was just trying to be a good date. When she sat down, she took off her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. And then I fell in love with her breasts. Before, she’d always worn shirts a little to baggy to show their true form, but tonight she wore a nice, figure-hugging, blue blouse. Her breasts perked up just perfectly. If I had to judge, I would have guessed they were a 32C. What lovely, lovely breasts, she had.

We sat down and talked. And talked. And talked. It took us nearly two hours to finish dinner, and when we did, we went straight to the movie theater, which was only three blocks away, so we walked. It was a cold walk, but enjoyable. I didn’t mind the cold one bit, actually.

We arrived at the theater, and realized we hadn’t even decided on what movie to see. The only thing we could agree on was Paranormal Activity 3 (I didn’t really want to see it, but I was always told: when going to the movies on a date, always see a horror movie).

The theater was only about halfway full. We sat in the back. And this wasn’t my decision. The movie started, and for the first fifteen minutes or so, we sat, my arm around her, her head leaning against me. But soon enough, something too scary for her liking happened, she she was holding me as she watched with one eye open. I held her back. At this point, I wasn’t even paying attention to the movie. I would just smell her hair, lightly enough that she wouldn’t notice, and rub hug her back. It was a great movie, even though I don’t remember much of it.

I had to admit, I was expecting some make-out action during the movie, but I was perfectly fine with what it was. We left the theater, and she was shaking. She loved the movie. I told her I did too.

I called a cab, and we got in, and I told the cabbie to go to her place. For the first few minutes of the ride, we were both quiet. Then I saw her look at me from the corner of my eye.

“You were expecting to make out in the movie, weren’t you?” she asked, smiling. I laughed. Of course I was, but I wasn’t going to say so. “I knew it. Is that all guys want out of a date is action?” She was still smiling, so I could tell she was joking.

“No, I was completely fine with what we did,” I told her. “Seriously, I really enjoyed it.” She just kept smiling at me.

“Sure...” she said as she turned her head facing forward again.

“I mean, yeah, I was hoping I would get to make out with you a little bit. But it’s not like I enjoyed the date any less because of it.” She turned and looked at me again, with her eyebrows curved and a smirk on her face, as if to say ‘am I supposed to believe that?’ I just looked back at her. And she continued to look at me. I slowly leaned in toward her beautiful face, closing my eyes. I heard her let out a tiny chortle before she moved in and kissed me. This time, we almost immediately used our tongues.

We made out for the rest of the ride, which lasted about ten minutes. We seriously did not stop for the entire ten minutes. I thought I’d died and went to heaven. There was no groping this time, but I did run my hands through her beautiful hair. She ran her fingers through my hair with one hand, while touching my chest with the other. It truly was a heavenly moment.

The cab stopped out front of her house. I opened the door for her and walked her to her door. This time, we merely hugged and said goodnight. Once again, I walked back to the cab the happiest man alive.

We went on several dates over the next month. From going out to eat, to hanging out at Santa Monica Pier, to just hanging out at the beach. I told her more about myself than I think I’ve told anyone. I spent more time with her--whether in person, on the phone, on Facebook, or texting--than I had any of my friends combined. And I think she could say the same. I was falling in love with this girl, and I was loving every second of it.

It wasn’t until the sixth date that I decided it would be appropriate to ask her over to my place so that I could cook her dinner. And she agreed.

I decided to make Fetuccini Alfredo with broccoli and garlic bread. It’s my absolute favorite meal, so I’ve made it ton of times, so it’s what I make best. I got dressed--jeans and a black button-up shirt--with my hands shaking. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I knew and trusted this girl more than most people in my life. What was the deal?

Soon enough, she knocked on the door. I walked to the door, took a deep breath, put a big smile on, and opened the door. The second I saw her, my smile became sincere. She smile backed at me.

“Hey!” she said with such enthusiasm. She threw her arms around me and we hugged for a good five seconds. She came in and I took her coat--a black pea coat. She was wearing a black embellished, mock-layer dress that came down to her knees. There was also just enough cleavage. She looked gorgeous.

“You look...gorgeous!” I said, looking her up and down. She smiled.


“You can go sit on the couch. Dinner will be ready in like five minutes.” She looked at me, then looked at the couch, then back at me.

“I wanna help!” she said with this ‘duh!’ tone to it. I told her there really wasn’t anything left to do but wait, so she went and sat on the couch. Immediately, she picked up the first magazine on the coffee table (Entertainment Weekly). She began flipping through it. This was a relatively small apartment, so we could have very easily had a conversation while I finished cooking, but she kept quiet and read the magazine.

“It’s ready!” I said after setting the table, and she put the magazine down and came over to the table. I pulled her chair out for her and she said a quite ‘thank you’. I sat, and we dug in.

“This is delicious!” she said. “How did you learn to cook so well?” I chuckled.

“Practice,” I said, dishing out some broccoli for myself.

The night went on with conversation and a great meal (if I do say so myself). We talked about the usual: c***dhood, f****y, school, interests. But a certain topic came up after dinner that I was not expecting.

We were sitting on the couch, her head on my shoudler, my arm around her, watching The Office. We hadn’t spoken for a good ten minutes because we were watching the show. But then she said something.

“So you’ve never been in a relationship?” she asked, still watching the TV.

“Nope,” I responded.

“And you never kissed a girl before me?”

“No...” I was scared. I was afraid I was being tested. Or perhaps judged. Then she said it...

“So that means you’ve never had sex.” It came as such a shock to me, that I nearly choked on my soda that I’d just taken a sip of. She sat up and looked at me. “Right?”

Still somewhat choking, I nodded. She paused, then laid her head back on my shoulder.

“Me neither,” she said, rather nonchalantly. I felt my heart leap and my face get red. And I smiled, quite possibly the widest smile I’ve ever smiled. But she didn’t see me.

When the next commercial came on, I changed the subject. “I’m gonna get more soda. Do you want anything?” She sat up and thought about it for a minute.

“I’ll have some more water.” She handed me her glass and I went into the kitchen. I hid behind the cabinets so she couldn’t see me, and I exhaled, smiling. She was a virgin. I’m not sure, but I think I knew I was in love with her at that moment.

I went back in the living room with my Sprite and her water. I handed her the water, placed my Sprite on the table next to the couch, and sat down. She took a big sip of water, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her looking at me. I turned and she was holding the glass with both hands, just looking at me, smiling with her mouth closed.

“What?” I said, smiling back. She put the glass of water on the coffee table, then sat back up and continued looking at me, smiling. “What?” I said again, still smiling. She laid her head back on my shoulder.

“I love you,” she said, as if it wasn’t a big deal. My stomach dropped. I moved so that she would sit up again.

“You what?” I said, looking at her dead in the eye.

“I love you,” she said, in the exact same way. We just looked at each other. I smiled and she smiled.

“I--I love you too,” I said, becoming light-headed as I did so. She smiled even bigger. I did too. We both laughed. We moved in closer, and she laid her head on my shoulder again. As we stopped laughing, I began to rub her arm and massage it.

“Oooh, that feels good,” she said, sitting up. “Give me a massage.” She demanded it. No questions asked. So I agreed.

“Okay,” I said as she turned her back to me, still sitting on the couch. I began rubbing her shoulders, and she moaned as I did so.

“That feels sooo good,” she said. I had to admit, I was getting turned on. I continued by rubbing her neck, then rubbing my hands through her hair, massaging her scalp, then back down to her neck, then back down to her shoulders, and down to her arms again. She kept moaning, saying it felt good. Needless to say, my pants got a little tighter.

After a couple of minutes, I decided to give her a light kiss on the neck. She didn’t respond, so I just continued massaging. Then, after another ten seconds or so, I kissed her on the neck again. She turned around and looked at me. She looked at my lips, then in my eyes, then at my lips. She moved closer and kissed me. Softly at first, then I slowly pushed my tongue into her mouth, and we proceeded to make out.

I had my hands on her sides, and hers were on my chest. But she did something she’d never done before. She moved one of her hands down to my stomach. Then back up to my chest, then down to my stomach, over and over again, slowly. I decided to reciprocate. I moved my hands around to her back, then up. I felt her bra, and held my hands there for a few moments. When she didn’t react, I attempted to undo it. I’d never done it before, but I’d seen how it was done on a TV show or something, so I tried. And it worked. Her bra was now undone. However, she didn’t do anything about it.

We made out, rubbing our hands over each other’s torsos. Eventually, she moved even closer, still kissing me, and straddled me. She was now holding my face with her hands, kissing me. I felt her firm, yet juicy butt on my lap, and it made me grow.

I ran my hands down her back again, to the start of her butt. This time, just as I was about to touch her butt, she reached around and grabbed my wrist. I stopped. She took it, brought it around, and placed it on her breast. This was magnificent. I had one hand on her perfect butt, and the other on her perfect breast, all the while, making out with her.

After about ten seconds, I slid my hand off her breast and around to her back. I decided to try gently running my fingers along her back. I felt her shiver a little bit.

By now, I’m rock hard in my jeans, but she’s situated on top of me so that she can’t feel it. However, if she were to slide towards me even just two inches, she would feel it for sure. And this turned me on. So I grabbed her and gently pulled her toward me. Soon enough, she was on my hard cock. I know she could feel it, because there was nothing but her panties blocking it. She was straddling me, so her dress was pulled up to just below her hips. I couldn’t quite see her panties, but if the dress was any further up, I’d get a peek.

It took me a few seconds to notice, but she began to very slowly and very mildly grind her hips. It was apparent that she was rubbing her panty-covered pussy against my jeans-covered lump. It was getting pretty hot in here.

I held my hands over her butt as she did so, still fiercely making out. In fact, I don’t think one of us had taken a breath at this point. She continued to very slowly and very mildly grind her hips. I decided to start reciprocating. In accordance to her rhythm, I slowly and very mildly thrusted. I could feel a bit of pre-cum coming on.

I ran my hands up her back and realized that her bra had now completely slipped off her breasts. It was now down to her mid-back. I so badly just wanted to take her dress off to see those bodacious beauties. No sooner had I thought that, did she begin unbuttoning my shirt. She got about halfway down the shirt, then we broke apart for the first time so that she could unbutton the rest. As soon as she did so, she assisted me in taking it completely off. I was wearing an undershirt too, and she slipped that over my head and off. I was now topless. We went back to making out.

I’d seen it plenty of times in movies: one of them takes an item of the other’s clothing off, the other does the same. I contemplated doing this, since all she had on was a dress. I decided not to.

Suddenly, she pulled away. “Bedroom?” she said, out of breath.

“Uh--sure!” I said, happily. She got up and took me by the hand and gleefully took me into the bedroom. She looked so cute with her hair a little ruffled, in that sexy black dress, with no shoes on.

We got into the bedroom, I turned the light on, and she immediately turned back toward me and started kissing me, lightly pushing me back toward the bed until we both fell on it. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

She was on top of me, both us us lying on the bed. I now had full access to her butt and I took immediate advantage of that. I squeezed it nice and hard, causing her to moan ever so lightly. We made out and made out. I brought my hands up to the middle of her back. Every now and then I would run my hands down to her butt, hold them there for a few seconds, and squeeze. Then I would bring them back up to her back.

I decided to roll her over so that she was on her back and I was halfway on top of her. I could tell she liked this because she smiled and wrapped on of her legs around me, to which I responded by rubbing her thigh. It was so smooth.

My hard cock pressing up against her pelvis, I could feel the pre-cum oozing out little by little. I was hornier than I’d ever been in my life. I didn’t think I could get any hornier. Little did I know...

Amber reached down and lightly rubbed my shaft through my pants, never breaking away from the kiss. I felt like I was going to explode. And if she’d kept it up, I might have. But luckily, after a few rubs, she stopped and grabbed my hand. I didn’t know what she was doing because she just held it there for a few moments. Then she thrusted it down to her pussy and placed my hand on it, still covered by her panties, which were quite wet. I began rubbing. I had no idea what I was doing--or what she wanted me to do. I just started rubbing slowly. But it was the right thing to do because she leaned her head back, closed her eyes, bit her lip, and moaned. I kissed her on the neck as I continued to rub her wet pussy.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said. My stomach dropped. She wanted me to fuck her. I guess I sort of knew that’s where this was going, but it was still amazing hearing her say that.

“I don’t have any condoms,” I said as I continued to kiss her neck and rub her pussy. She didn’t respond. She just pushed me off her, sat up, and knelt on the bed next to me. She proceeded to place her hands on my chest and run them down slowly to my stomach, to my pelvis. She unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. She began to pull them down, so I helped her a little by lifting my butt off the bed. As she did so, my cock poked right up.

She pulled my jeans to about the middle of my thighs, then gently took my cock in her hand. She looked at me and slowly began stroking. Slowly and gently. I smiled as I watched her. This was amazing. I couldn’t get over the fact that this was happening. But I had to. I had to get into the moment and stop thinking about how crazy this was.

With each stroke she tightened her grip just a little. She continued to go slowly, though. After about ten or twelve strokes, I watched her lean down and lightly kiss the tip. She then proceeded to lick the entire head, swirling her tongue around, undoubtedly getting a small taste of pre-cum. After a few moments, I had to say something. If I didn’t I might cum.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” I said. She smiled and pulled away. She slowly crawled back up the bed and lied next to me. I wrapped my arms around her and went in for the kiss. But she stopped me. She put her hand on my chest and pushed. “What?” I said, confused and somewhat concerned. She put her other hand on my chest and pushed me, sitting up as she did so. So I took the f***e to mean that she wanted me in a sitting position, as well. Once we were both sitting--her legs out in front of her, mine tucked under me--she hiked up her dress so that I could see her panties. They were pink, seamless bikini panties. So sexy.

“Take them off,” she said. So shifted my way to the bottom of the bed, leaned over, grabbed them by the waistband, and slid them off of her, over her butt, then sliding down the pubic bone (she had a neatly-groomed strip of hair), then off her pussy. It was beautiful with nicely-shaped lips. I slid them down her thighs, over her knees, and off her feet. I dropped them on the floor and looked at her: she had her knees bent, up in the air, arms on the bed at her sides, propping her up slightly, and she was smiling at me. I knew what she wanted.

She moved her legs apart I laid down flat on my stomach, in between them I was inches away from her pussy. I was so close, I could smell it. It smelled...interesting. Not good, but not bad. It was sort of a faint, tangy musk.

She moved her arms and lied flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling. The idea of eating out a girl never appealed to me, but she wanted it, and I was more than willing to deliver.

I place my lips on her labia and slowly inserted my tongue. I heard her moan and felt her slightly tense up, then quickly release. It was almost as if it was a shock to her.

I inserted my tongue further. The taste was actually pretty...sweet. It wasn’t the best-tasting thing in the world, but it wasn’t bad. At that, I began moving my tongue up and down inside her pussy, my lips still against her pussy lips. She moaned and tensed up again. I admittedly had no idea what I was doing. Like I said, eating a girl out never really appealed to me, so I’d never given much thought on how it was done. So I decided to treat it somewhat like a kiss.

I continued moving my tongue up and down for a few more seconds, then got a little more into it. I pushed my lips in between her lips and began to swirly my tongue around, while simultaneously sucking. She arched her back at this and moaned a little louder. She wasn’t a loud moaner--if someone were to stand at the door to my bedroom, they probably would hear her--but it was hot, nonetheless.

I continued to suck and swirl, occassionally throwing in a come-hither motion with my tongue. She was very much enjoying it, because she continued to moan, although quietly. And I had to say, I was enjoying it, too. She didn’t taste half-bad.

My mouth started to get tired, so I decided to pull my mouth off of her pussy for a second, at which point, I saw her clit. I decided to very lightly rub it. With that, she let out a moan significantly louder than the previous ones. It was a short, spastic moan, almost as though she couldn’t control it. And if there’s anything hotter than a girl moaning during sex, it’s a girl moaning uncontrollably during sex. So I continued to gently rub her clit with my thumb. After a few seconds, I inserted my index finger halfway into her pussy. It felt strangely tight. How would I fit my penis in there? When she didn’t react to my finger, I put it in more, slowly, until--at about two-thirds of the way in--she gasped. I just held it there as I continued to rub her clit. Her breathing got heavier by the breath. I decided to go in for another round.

I leaned in and put my mouth back on her pussy, this time just going for it. I shocked her. She grabbed my head and suddenly moved back a little. It was more of a good reaction than a bad one. She kept her hand on on my head as I ate her out. I started to feel a warm, thick liquid produce. It wasn’t thick like saliva, but it wasn’t as thin as water. And it tasted good, like a salty sweet liquid. It wasn’t very much, but I could still feel it as it seeped into my mouth with each suck.

Her breathing grew heavier, slowly growing to moans. Then the moans started getting louder. As she got louder, I licked faster. As I licked faster, more juices began to produce. My tongue was starting to hurt.

“Don’t stop!” she exclaimed, now hardly able to control her breathing. “Don’t stop!” she said again. I wasn’t going to stop. My tongue hurt and, frankly, was starting to cramp. But I wanted to please her more than anything.

She still had her hand on my head, but now she was pushing me into her pussy. She wanted to be sure I did not stop. “Oh God!” She was really liking this. As was I.

I licked faster as she moaned louder. She moaned louder as more juices produced. More juices produced as I sucked harder. I sucked harder as she push my head harder.

“Keep going!” she yelled. She squeezed my head with her thighs. “Yes!”

She yanked my hair and pulled me back. She stopped breathing as her eyes widened and she arched her back. She began to writhe uncontrollably. After a few seconds, she let out her loudest moan yet--it was almost a scream. She lied flat on the bed again, still moaning, writhing. She moaned and she moaned as her orgasm overcame her. It died down after about ten seconds. Her breathing, however, didn’t subside. She was breathing as if she’d just ran a mile. Soon enough, that died down, too, and she started laughing. I laughed with her as I kneeled on the bed. I could have watched her orgasm for hours.

She sat up and her her face in her hands. She then looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, speechless. She moved in and kissed me hard on the mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, holding my face. I just smiled at her. My cock was still fully exposed, and still fully erect. So she reached down and began stroking it looking me in my eyes. “I want you to fuck me,” she said, looking me dead in the eye without blinking.

“But I--”

“It’s okay,” she piped in. “I’m on birth control.” She took my face in her hands again and smiled. Once again, I smiled back. We kissed, and she got off the bed and stood up. She lifted her dress over her head so that her bra fell onto the floor. Now that I thought about it, I was surprised it hadn’t escaped her dress sooner.

She was completely naked. I just stared at her and she climbed back onto the bed. She just kneeled on the bed, looking at me. I looked at her back, admiring her beautiful, flawless naked body. How did I end up with this girl?

I snapped back into reality and realized she was waiting for me to get completely naked. I stood up and pulled my pants completely off. I climbed back on the bed and we kneeled across from each other, just admiring each other’s naked bodies. I think we did this much longer than necessary. I just think we couldn’t decide who goes on top and who goes on bottom.

Finally, I decided to tell her to lie down. She did. She spread her legs, knees bent, 45 degrees to the bed. She looked at me as she rubbed her clit. I slowly made my way over to her. I got between her legs, lowered myself down, holding myself up with my arms. My legs were flat on the bed. I grabbed my cock and slowly guided it towards her pussy.

It felt like a lifetime, as I was getting closer and closer. My tip touched her lips, and I looked at her. She had a face of beautiful agony on. “Are you ready?” I asked her. She nodded.

“Put it in.”

I looked at her gorgeous face, into her blue-green eyes, and pushed my cock past her lips and into her pussy. I barely had the head in when she gasped. I didn’t know if it hurt her or felt good, but she didn’t stop me, so I kept going. I pushed in further. At about a third of the way in, I felt like I couldn’t go anymore. It was so tight, I felt that if I’d gone further, I would seriously hurt her.

“Deeper,” she said when I stopped. I went deeper. At about halfway, I realized what all the fuss was about. There was no other feel like fucking a pussy. It was incredible. At two-thirds of the way in, I pulled back out, then back in two-thirds, out, in, out in, going progressively faster with each thrust. I already felt like I might cum. But I couldn’t. I had to last. For her.

She contorted her face as I fucked her. It was beautiful. I kept my eyes on her the entire time, watching her face. I thrusted my hips, faster and faster. She lied there, taking it, enjoying every inch.

“Deeper,” she said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.


I pushed every inch of my cock inside of her, causing her to gasp. She grabbed the sheets and she tilted her head back. She let out a moan.
“Oh, fuck,” she said. She was not expecting that, whatever it was.

I continued to fuck her with every inch, faster, but still gently. I really thought I might cum. I had to take my mind off of it somehow.

I thrusted, trying to think of other things--running, clothes shopping, air travel--stuff I hated. It wasn’t working. I couldn’t keep my mind away from this moment. Why would I want to?

“Okay,” Amber said, somewhat unable to control her breathing. I pulled out, and she sat up, pushing me over so that I was now on my back. She mounted me, straddling me at my waist, her warm, wet pussy resting against my stomach. She bent down and kissed me.

Sitting back up, she slid back, lifting herself up slightly. She hovered over my cock for a moment, and took it in her hand. She held it and she slowly lowered herself, guiding it in.

She lowered herself onto my cock, inch by inch. She got it all in, shuddering at she did so. Her pussy lips were now right up against my pubic bone. I was buried. She had that look of beautiful agony on her face and she pushed herself up again, then lowered herself down. Up, down. Up, down. I was now clenching the sheets, closing my eyes, tilting my head back. It felt amazing. There was nothing in the world like it. Her tight pussy, clasping down as it massaged my shaft and tickled my head.

Up, down. Up down. She did this slowly about ten times, before starting to pick up speed. She went faster and faster, soon making a clapping sound as she went down. I didn’t want to cum yet. I knew, once I came, it was going to take a while for me to start back up again.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” I said again. She lowered herself one more time, then stopped. But she didn’t get off. Instead, she just grinded her pussy against my pubic bone, my cock buried deep inside her. I could feel my cock moving around inside her pussy, pushing on the smooth, silky walls. She went in circles, then back and forth. Then in circles, then back and forth, all the while my cock balls deep inside her pussy. I was going to cum in a few seconds.

“Stop!” I yelled. I think I startled her, but she hopped off as quickly as possible. It was a close call, but I didn’t cum. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to cum yet. I want this to last.”

She didn’t say anything. She just bent over and put my cock in her mouth. It was so sudden, I flinched. In no time at all, she had my whole cock in her mouth. She wasn’t quite deep throating, but she was close. And then she did. She deep throated me. It was the weirdest feeling. I could feel the back of her throat. But it felt incredible. She’d obviously given head plenty of times before.

She sucked and sucked, harder and faster, stroking me at the same time. I was getting close. This time, however, I wasn’t going to worry about it. I was ready to cum I’d waited long enough. Plus, it wasn’t in her pussy, so there was no real risk.

She sucked and stroked, sucked and stroked. “I’m gonna cum!” I said. At that, she took my entire cock and went balls deep. I grabbed her hair as I exploded in her mouth. I could feel the pressure from my cum hitting the back of her throat. She gagged a little bit, but didn’t take it out. She just let me cum...and it was a lot of cum. It had been building up for nearly an hour now. I was surprised I didn’t have blue balls!

When the cumming subsided, she pulled my cock out of her mouth and licked me clean. She swallowed my semen.

She lied next to me and we wrapped out arms around each other. I could tell she wanted to kiss me, but she was being polite--she had, after all, just drank my bodily fluids. So I kissed her. I didn’t mind.

We broke apart, and lied there, her snuggled up against me, my arm around her.

“I love you so much,” I said.
“I love you, too.”

I woke up to the sound of her breathing right next to me. We were still both completely naked, our bodies together, still kind of sweaty. I watched her sl**p for a minute, then I kissed her on the forehead and closed my eyes to go back to sl**p. However, that’s not what I did.

“Alex?” I heard her small voice whisper.

“Yeah?” I didn’t mean to wake her.

“Are you ready to go again?” These words alone made my cock stand up.

“What do you think?” She looked at my cock and laughed.

We remained lying there for another minute or so. “I want you to take me from behind,” Amber said, still kind of whispering. I was taken aback.

“What? anal?”

“No,” she laughed. Just fuck me from behind. With that, she turned over and lied flat on her belly. She stuck her ass in the air. I pushed myself up (I was still kind of tired), and got on my knees. Her pussy was spread open for perfect access. It was beautiful.

This time I spent no time wasted. I put my cock in her, slowly at first, then I thrust it in her. She moaned. I thrust again. She moaned again. I fucked her nice, warm, wet, tight pussy from behind for a good two minutes. She moaned louder and louder. Something in this position hit her. She was enjoying it far more than the other positions. I couldn't complain, either. Her butt was pointed directly at me. I squeezed it over and over. I even spanked it a couple times

I fucked her fast. “Harder!” she yelled, trying to catch her breath. I started fucking her harder. Strangely enough, I wasn’t even close to cumming. I think because I had to focus on body strength more. That, plus I’d just came shortly before.

She was moaning uncontrollably. Every now and then, she would say something, and it would be tough for her to get out. “That f--feels--good”, or “Righ-t th--there”. She was having some amazing sex. I, on the other hand, wasn’t getting much out of it. I didn’t care, though. Pleasuring her was just as--if not more--important as my own pleasure.

After a few minutes, she lifted herself up on all fours. She remained that way for a while.

“I’m gonna cu--cum,” she said. I didn’t hear her.


“I’m gonna--cum!” No sooner did she say that than she arched her back and screamed. She was shaking as her pussy grasped my cock, pulsating as she shook. After the orgasm stopped, she flopped down onto the bed, off of my cock, breathing heavier than ever before. “Oh fuck,” she said. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” She said it with every deep breath she took.

She got up on her knees and said, “Your turn.” She pushed me down so I was on my back and mounted me. She immediately guided my cock into her pussy, lowering herself. It took her a bit, but she soon got the entire thing in. She proceeded to ride me like a cowgirl.

I rubbed her thighs as she bounced up and down on my cock. She moaned each time she came down on it. With her fucking me and moaning at the same time, I was as turned on as I was going to get. I felt my orgasm coming on.

“I’m gonna cum!” I said. She didn’t stop. “Amber, I’m gonna cum!” She stopped bouncing, and stayed on my cock, balls deep. I was buried, about to cum. “Amber!”

“Cum in my pussy, Alex,” she said in the dirtiest way.

I shot my load up inside her. It took her a moment, but she felt it.

“I can feel it,” she said, looking me dead in the eye. I shot about four or five times, my cock pulsating inside her pussy. She had her beautiful agony face on again. She leaned over and kissed me, long and slow. “I love you,” she said.

She rolled off of me and snuggled up against me one more. I held her in my arms as we fell asl**p, my cum still deep in her pussy. ... Continue»
Posted by teensleepsex 3 years ago  |  Categories: Anal, BDSM, Hardcore  |  Views: 1256  |  
  |  4


My wife and I were going out for the evening and asked our neighbor, Paul, to baby-sit. Marny said she was driving so I sat in the passenger seat and settled in for a nice ride.

Marny looked younger than her actual age, she was thirty eight but looked twenty nine, her body is as firm as ever due to a rigorous exercise program, and strict eating habits.

Like I said, she's thirty eight, she's five feet seven inches tall, long jet black hair that falls to her gorgeous firm ass. Her tits are firm, full globes size thirty six c.

We arrived at the restaurant at 7:00, had a nice dinner with plenty of sexy talk and were enjoying after dinner drinks when Marny dropped this bombshell on me. "So Dalan, do you like lingerie?"

"Of course I do Marny, I love seeing you dressed sexy."

" No sweety, I mean, do you like to wear it? "

I sat there in shock, how could she have found my stash of sexy undies.

My fetish was discovered, but how? I had stashed them in a suitcase that we hadn't used in years in the attic. My stash was hidden because I had "liberated" it all from the neighbors.

The first time was about six months ago, our next door neighbor was on vacation and asked us to look after her house, so I went over key in hand to open the blinds and pick up the mail etc. When I went inside I had a look around to make sure everything was secure, I checked the bed room and saw a pair of her soiled panties laying on the floor. I picked them up and started to the laundry hamper. I got the urge to smell them, it was overpowering and before I knew it I was holding them up to my nose and inhaling the smell of her pussy. Sweet and musky, my cock stiffened and pulsed in my pants, I dropped my pants right there and in about twenty seconds deposited a load of cum onto her stain, I rubbed it in with my cum soaked fingers and then licked my cum and her stain if off them.

So my fetish began there and has escalated to the point that many of the good looking ladies around the neighborhood have become donors to my collection.

When no-one's home, I walk over, ring the doorbell and then check the door, if it was open I'd go inside.

My heart would start to race about twenty feet from the door, and as soon as I turned the knob my cock starts to stiffen, I undress inside the door and stroke my throbbing cock, while I seek a new prize.

I always smell them, jerk off and shoot a load of cum into them and then lick it up, savoring the taste of our mingled juices, I then wear them for the rest of the day, and add them to my collection.

I always waited until no one was home to dress up in silky teddies, lace panties, garter and stockings, and spiked heels. Then do chores around the house.

How had she found out?

Since I was caught I decided to tell her the truth.

"Actually I do like to wear lingerie, I like how it feels," I admitted.

"So You've been wearing my Lingerie?"

" No honey," I paused, my face reddening, " I have my own."

"You have your own?"

"Yes. I do, I've never touched yours, honest. I thought that you had found it, that's why I admitted it."

"Well I haven't found yours, but someone's been wearing mine, but who?"

Her face dawned in realization, "I know who! I know who it is, and now it's time to catch him in the act."

"Him?" I asked. "Yes, Him! Hurry up and finish your drink, we're going to the mall..." On the way, Marny asked what size I was, "small fits nice." I said.

At the mall we went to a lingerie store, Marny bought a deep blue teddy with matching panties, Garter and fishnet stockings.

Then to a shoe store where she bought a pair of six inch spike heels.

Then Finally a pet store where she bought two leather dog collars with studs and leashes to match.

On the drive home it was now nine-thirty and dark. Marny pulled into a rest stop, handed me the bag of lingerie and said "get out and change."

"But.." I started to protest but she stopped me. "Do it now and I'll make sure you enjoy it, refuse and I'll make sure you regret it! Do you understand?"

She had her don't fuck with me, look on her face. So I answered "Yes I do."

I got out of the car and started to undress, " Oh no you don't go to the front of the car into the light!" I pleaded with my eyes, but she insisted. " do it NOW!" I moved to the front of the car and with the high beams shining on me started to undress. "Take everything off first!" she ordered. I removed all of my clothes standing naked in front of the car my cock stirred then stiffened and pointed at the sky. I slipped on the teddy, and my cock got harder, the garter was next, and my cock was leaking and throbbing, I reached down to stroke it when Marny yelled from the car "No, Don't touch unless I say so! Stockings and shoes next please." I did as I was told and had one stocking on and the other half way when a car pulled in.

A man about my age got out and looked at me, half dressed in women's under clothes with a raging hard on, without saying anything he took out a camera and took a bunch of pictures of me. He looked in the car at Marny and asked, "Does he belong to you?"

"Why Yes, as a matter of fact he does." She Replied. "Does he suck cock", he asked. "Why Yes, as a matter of fact he does." She Replied. "Oh good, do you mind?"

"Not at all, help yourself." I looked in disbelief at her, I had never even touched another man's cock. She just glared back at me.

And with that he moved in front of me and dropped his pants. His cock was six and a half inches long and hard as a steel pole, I got down on my knees, and started to suck it, at first I was a little nervous never having sucked a cock, but I started to enjoy the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth. Wrapping my hand around the shaft and jerking him off like Marny did to me, and squeezing his balls with the other, he didn't last long. After a few minutes I was just starting to enjoy it when he moaned "Oh Yeah, here you go boy!" and with that he shot his load into my mouth, I swallowed most of it, and sucked him til he was dry. He pulled his pants up, said thanks and left.

"Finish dressing you slut!" Marny said from the car. I rolled on the other stocking, put on my new panties and shoes, then got back in the car.

"Did you enjoy that?" Marny asked me. "Yes I loved it, his cum tasted good, better than I thought. I felt so sexy in this outfit, I wanted him to last all night!"

"Oh don't worry, you'll get more!" Marny put one of the collars on me and attached a leash. She pulled up down the street from our house and shut the car off, "Look our Bedroom light is on. Let's go."

She got out and walked around to my side of the car, opened the door and took my leash, leading me down the sidewalk in lingerie and heels. We went around to the side door that enters the garage, opened it slowly so she didn't make any noise and stepped inside pulling me in behind her. The stereo was playing fairly loud so we couldn't be heard, we entered the kitchen, no one was there so we checked the rest of the first floor, no-one was downstairs. Marny sat me down in the living room and told me to stay there while she checked the rest of the house.

Our bedroom was the last room, Marny swung the door open and there was Paul, in a garter, silk chemise and stockings, and her silk panties at his nose.

"Hello Paul!" Paul froze on the spot."

"So you like my underthings do you? Come with me NOW!" She snapped the other collar and leash on him and lead him downstairs to the living room. She turned him to face her, reached out and stroked his cock, which had shrunk slightly after being caught in her underwear, she stroked him to full hardness, then said, "On your knees Paul." He went down to his knees and looked at me, a realization dawning across his face. Marny grabbed my leash and stood me up. "Does he look good Paul?"

"Yes Mrs.Jones"

" do you want to suck his cock Paul?"

"I don't know I've nev..."

"I said do you want to suck it or not!"

"Yes, I want to suck it."

" well then go ahead, but don't make him cum to soon, understand?" Paul nodded as he took my cock into his mouth. I just stood there enjoying it, this young man was a good cock sucker, maybe even the best I'd had up til now. "Now you two boys have fun I'll be right back."

Marny went upstairs and returned a short while later, with a video camera on a tripod and a strap-on cock that was huge, ten inches long at least.

I looked at her with my mouth hanging open, "for later" she said.

She turned on the camera and told me to kneel down and suck Paul's cock, while she made Paul suck hers Paul's cock was seven and a half inches long and very very hard. I licked the precum off the head, savored the taste the took it all in my mouth, burying my nose in his pubic hair, he moaned from around the shaft of marny's big plastic cock and started pumping his load down my throat, I sucked it all back and loved the taste of him, sucking him til he was dry. Marny jerked him to his feet, and spanked him for cumming." I didn't tell you to cum did I?"

"No ma'am" Paul answered. "Well then you will pay for that, Paul"

Reaching behind her back she pulled out a tube of K-Y Jelly, "Down on all fours!" Paul dropped to his hands and knees, she tore a hole in the back of the panties Paul was wearing and smeared his ass with lube." Ever been fucked up the ass Paul?"

"NO" he answered. "Well there's a first time for everything isn't there?" Paul just closed his eyes. "Come over here Darling" Marny pulled me to her with the leash, "On your knees!" I got down on my knees. " Fuck his ass, fuck it good and hard!" I slipped in between Paul's legs my cock was rock hard, Marny grabbed it and pushed it against Paul's ass, she put her knee against my ass and pushed hard burying my cock in Paul's ass with one stroke, Paul cried out I had to wait for him to relax, his ass was so tight, I couldn't move, I had fucked Marny's ass before but I had never fucked another guy, and here I was fucking our young male baby-sitter, and more amazing I was liking it. I felt Paul relax and I started to move out, then in, slowly at first, then faster, and faster til I was pounding my Eight inches into his ass our balls slapping together I was almost ready to cum, I looked up at marny, " Yes honey fill up his virgin ass with your hot cum!" she reached behind me and squeezed my balls hard, I exploded into Paul's ass, cumming deep inside him, Paul started to cum at the same time pumping strings of sticky cum onto the floor. After a short recovery I pulled out of him exhausted. Paul and I shared Marny's pussy for the rest of the night, fucking and sucking til the wee hours of the morning.

Marny let Paul go home after that, but he still cums over regularly for a good ass fucking and a blowjob, we've become quite attached to him.

... Continue»
Posted by centro60 1 year ago  |  Categories: Fetish  |  Views: 2516  |  
  |  3

Brief sex 008 In the cemetery at night

Brief sex 008

In the cemetery at night.

Ah the summer holidays when we were young, what memorable moments. This is the time when one awakens to love. In fact we think of nothing but ass girls much more than studying. That was my case, I sought every means to draw any passing petticoat. I must say that in my youth I feel that the fair were less shy. I think I've lived in good years.

I had just turned 17, but other times other manners at that age I was going on vacation with my parents. Oh it was not a hassle but they had too much on the back sometimes. That year we went to my maternal grandparents in a small village in the countryside. The kind of corn or cows outnumber the people, there is not much to do. So I was gone for at least 3 weeks of struggling. With 200 inhabitants per meter, the hometown was not silly. So I opted for reading and resting. But already at that time I was well into my sex life with a mature woman who had initiated (See First emotions). Since I managed to be able to release my impulses with girlfriends rather than masturbating me, several times a day.

But sometimes desperate situations offer compensation. In the largest farm hometown, shortly after my arrival, a city girl came very opportunely. It was almost f***ed vacation for me to come and see grandpa, granny. Only difference, her parents remained on the weekend before returning to town. Simplifying we were the only two young, other k**s were either under 14 or adults. Finally there was not a guy of 20 years but it was the retarded from the corner, not bad but boring especially when at age 17.

The new girl a little over 16 years was quite pretty, a fiery redhead with long curly hair that cascaded over his shoulder. A milk skin, freckles, but those that enhance the beauty. A small heart-shaped mouth. A little wrapped, and a pair of breasts that made me a lot of effects. We easily close our solitudes. Me with an idea in mind, I did not know it. But we got along very well. One could walk no one really watching us. They smoked in secret what fun! I knew my parents but I did not smoke in their presence. My father and mother were arrested a few years before. My only concern was my b*****r 10 years who was bored too, so sometimes I was tracking.

Her name was Elizabeth but for me it was always Lisa. Fairly quickly they began to flirt, I loved her kisses his mouth was sweet and perfumed her skin soft. We often walked the night often until midnight. It was a hot day then at night we took advantage of the softness. We spent our time laughing at everything, making fun of bumpkins. Several times I had the pleasure of giving a helping hand to the farm to help my girlfriend. We loved to tease the cows, calves. Innocent pleasures. But I had not really innocent desires.

This was not exactly one week we were friends. I knew she had a boyfriend in town but I felt that it was not an obstacle. Especially since we had pushed far enough flirting and enjoying my experience, I brought my beautiful not far from the explosion with my fingers. There was no doubt that I would achieve. Always it is that each time I passed the day with her at night I was typing a masturbation session memorable.

It was a Saturday night, determined to make it yield to my advances I had a great idea. There was a public place without light at night, except the lamppost on the street, it was the cemetery. Lisa was a little scared but wildly excited by the idea of ​​going to the cemetery at night. It was fun. The large creaking door. Our footsteps on the gravel. Lisa stood tight against me, and I did not fail to ensnare him. She wore a dress any slight pale yellow button front, I saw that she had no bra and the top buttons were unfastened me leaving an opening on this really beautiful pair of breasts. My hand kept stroking her hip and buttock.

"Pig .. you do not stop me fiddling! It is in a cemetery! "Said Lisa

"Yes .. so what? You are afraid that they look at us? "I say, laughing.

"You are stupid!! But i adore you, "she said giving me a kiss.

Lisa bragged but it was not quiet. She trembled a little. The farther we advanced towards the end of the cemetery over the shade over there becoming thick and there were tall trees rustling in the slight breeze in the evening. The sounds of our footsteps awoke an echo. Occasionally an owl ululait. This is postcard I know .. but here the campaign. The bell rang 11 hours.

"Ahhhh! there! to move it! What is it! "Cried Lisa

"Just look at what is a rabbit" I say pointing to the little maglite that I had in my pocket on the rabbit.

"Oh he's cute .. 'll save you the rabbit! "said Lisa shaking hands before the a****l captivated by the light.

I was pointing the beam at the face of Lisa.

"You're pretty, you know? Very nice .... "I said

"Ah ... tssst! And what? You want to do? "Said Lisa

It does not lower her eyes and looked at me with a little mischievous. At first she had the idea to let me tumble.

"Yes .. of course .. come on, "I said, taking his size to put my mouth on hers.

A big kiss, a rolling shovel a beautiful nutcracker. I rubbed against her. She could feel that my desire and she felt her.
From a little bit of k**ney she sent her pussy rubbing against mine completely bandaged in my pants

"Ouppps I think you have something in your pocket .. This is your lamp? "Said Lisa laughed.

"Come and take it ... my lamp .. will touch here "I said amused.

Lisa put her hand on the bump and held my cock, squeezing, gently waving her hand.
My hands rested on her breasts, before dropping another button which allowed me to bring out his chest to her little dress. Oh the beautiful pair of breasts, round and firm, small pink nipples tiny but so cute. They loved my tongue and I licked her nipples wetting his skin.
I was pushing the last button to open her dress.

"What are you doing?" Said Lisa

"Who do you think? Do you want it dressed? "I said

"No. .. But not here anyway? "Said Lisa

"Why not. It is quiet. You are afraid that a skeleton tickle you? "I said while the pelotant.

"Oh no, but it is not well in a cemetery! you is crazy! "she said.

I had my hand between her thighs and I stroked his cock through his pants. Which was largely pushed into its slot. Lisa was responding to my touch.

"Go Lisa let yourself go. Settles down there "I say pushing a tombstone.

"Ohhhhh t is crazy, but it's good oh oh hmmm your fingers. Ouhh it's cold! "Lisa murmured, sinking upon the marble.

The last button of her dress had fallen. She had only her panties which was actually inserted into its slot so it was rather that string panties. Oh it was lovely Lisa. Since I love, filled shapes, a plump pussy. A small curly fleece and detail which is important of hair at armpits. The full shaving and waxing were not the rule. Finally I could go out all the stops Lisa had left her dress, which served merely to preserve a bit of cold stone. I knelt between her thighs, her legs falling away and I did yawning gender. Oh it was beautiful. I approached my lips.

"You going to lick me? You know I just took my shower is morning. I'm not clean, "says Lisa

For answer I plaquais my mouth on her sex, rose to my nostrils the smell of a delicious sex which is not bricked, polished past soap and deodorant. She felt the woman, a little sweat pungent spices. My tongue plunged into the conch offered pulling a groan to Lisa who took my head between her hands and pulled me against her sex.

"Oohhhhhhhh not do this ... not ohh this is good ... orii ouiii "she murmured.

My tongue was searching her pussy. Lisa was very wet. I love to wade through a flooded pussy. I went up was her clitoris. Very small, he was hypersensitive. The direct attack made him scream with pleasure. It did not take 1 minute in this game It was too much. I had to turn around without touching the coax really

"How good it is .. oh this is good .. gently .. Gently ouuuhhh too loud "she screamed.

She walked erect, strutted. And she has on my tongue, the devil flowed like a fountain. It was sinking between her buttocks and tried her dress.

I wanted more .. my swollen cock was still pressed into my underwear. Lisa was abandoned still quivering from her orgasm. I put myself at ease and would lie on her, sliding my cock in it easily. I knew she was a virgin anymore her boyfriend had the scoop. Damn she was hot and tight. My cock went into a furnace. I could not hold out for long. My excitement peaked at the time of orgasm. I floundered in its wet and I did not detain him long. Lisa felt that I was enjoying myself.

"No not in it ..." she whispered

I had barely time to get my tail shiny and stretched to the limit. I enjoy rubbing my my balls against her pubes pressing against her wet pussy. Giclées flooded her belly, her breasts and one of them reached his mouth.
Surprise she gave a little cry which had the effect that dropping my sperm on her tongue.

We basically spent a great time both. Most of our time to make love like a****ls. I introduced Lisa to a lot of things that Mireille had taught me my initiator. I was happy when she told me that the cemetery was the first time she had an orgasm she had not given his fingers.
And Lisa learned to suck well as a few drops of semen that I had dropped on his mouth when we first had not disgusted as she imagined. At the end of the holiday Lisa was pumping me as a great and made me cum in her mouth. The little girl she had become a girl.

I have never seen, it was written some time and life has separated us.... Continue»
Posted by CinquantNERF 2 years ago  |  Categories: First Time, Sex Humor, Taboo  |  Views: 329  |  
  |  2

The happening at railway station

It was the spring. My grandma, Alevtina Petrovna, and me, Nina, a Russian 18 years old girl, was waiting for the train at the Voronezh city railway station. We had to wait for our train for 9 hours. We were coming back from a trip to my bridegroom Yuri. Now he is my husband. Then he served a compulsory service of one year in the army. It was not easy for me to part with him again until the next our meeting. To serve for him only one month left. Just after his demobilization we were going to get married.
The waiting for the train was rather tiresomely. We sat in a waiting hall of the railway station. In the waiting hall there was a lot of people, noisy and stuffy. I didn’t know how to pass the time and listened to my MP3 player.
Not far from us sat down the man about 50 years old of rather unpleasant appearance. He stared lasciviously at me, at my sexy legs in flesh colour nylon pantyhose. I was wearing then a mini-skirt, pantyhose, blouse, black varnished high-heeled shoes were on my feet. My fair hair loosely fell over my shoulders. In my pretty little ears I had the two nice catkins with rhinestones.
I, an attractive blonde young girl of 18 years old with quite big breasts, was embarrassed with such staring at me and my legs. I did not like the attention of that elderly man.
My shapely legs in lubricious flesh colour nylon were tightly squeezed together in my lap. But because I was sitting my skirt ridden up and most of my sexy thighs in nylon pantyhose was exposed. Probably that and yet my rather big breasts sticking out almost horizontally and my cute face with naive large blue eyes with their tender expression attracted the attention of the coarse elderly man. I was listening the music of my player, and pretended not to notice that attention. However, he continued look at me closely and lewdly.
My grandma returned now. Even she did notice the attention with which the man stared at me. My grandma irritably squinted at him. Until our train there were 8 hours still.
I decided to walk a little at the terminus. I lifted to the second floor and walked along the long row of stalls with souvenirs, food, and any nonsense. At one of the stalls I stopped. I had liked one cosmetic kit. But it was quite expensive for me. I was exploring it carefully hesitating to buy it. Suddenly someone asked me: "Do you like it?" The same elderly man stood beside me. I shrugged and did not answer him.
The man asked the saleswoman: "Please give me this thing" and pointed at the cosmetic kit liked by me. He paid in cash for it. "This is to you" he said smiling, presenting me the cosmetic kit. I had no idea then what to do - whether to accept the gift from an unknown man. For some time I was not daring to take that cosmetic kit. The elderly man was persuading, smiling, me to accept his gift. And I had taken it. Man tried to strike up a talk with me. He interested where we're going, where I study. I reluctantly replied, embarrassed with his gift and attention. I didn't still like his too lustful look at me, my mini-skirt, my sexy thighs in nylon pantyhose.
I walked further along the terminus second floor. The man didn't depart from me telling something, trying somehow make me laugh. Behold I went back to the spot where I sat with my grandma. My grandma was not there. It can be seen she again somewhere excused me. I sat down upon a waiting hall seat. The unpleasant elderly man also sat down beside me, not taking his eyes off my sexy thick thighs in nylon skin colour pantyhose. My grandma did not come back yet. The man entertained me with some talks. I smiled out of courtesy and replied something to him from time to time.
And then he said: "Already two years I'm divorced, so exhausted without a woman. Don't you give me a little pleasure?" I realized that he was offering me, an 18 years old girl, a virgin, the intim. I blushed deeply not knowing what to say at first.
Then I asked: "Что вы имеете в виду?" "What do you mean?"
The man grinned obnoxiously and said: "Что имею, то и введу" "What I have that I'll insert" The wordplay in Russian language.
"Хочу ебаться с тобой" he uttered. "I want fuck you"
I blushed even more. The word "ебаться" in Russian language is considered as a very obscene one. And he said that to me, a young innocent cute girl.
At last I said indignantly: "What do you allow yourself?!"
He continued to persuade me.
I repeated: "No, no, no".
My grandma appeared. She did not like very much that some kind of elderly man was talking to me, a cute young girl.
"What do you want from her?" she rather angrily asked the man.
"Nothing, we are just chatting", the man replied. He reluctantly got up and walked away from us somewhere.
"Nina, what does he want from you?" asked me my grandma.
"Oh nothing, just interested where I was going", I lied.
To the train were still 7 hours. The man did not leave me alone. Had only my grandma to depart somewhere as he sat down beside me continuing to persuade me to start sexual relation with him, plaintively describing his suffering of two years sex abstinence. His tone became increasingly wretched. He began to annoy me, and I had felt actually some kind of sorry for him.
"I have a bridegroom", I said.
"But he will not know anything", the man replied.
"I'm a virgin and it hurts me".
"Huh? You are a virgin?", he asked me again somehow excitedly, "Не бойся, я могу так ебать, что не порву твою целку" "Don't be afraid, I can fuck you so that I shall not tear your hymen"
"But pregnancy?" I said.
"Гондоны есть" "Here are condoms", he replied.
He took from his pocket a pack of condoms.
The word "гондон" is also considered as indecent name of condom in the Russian language.
He put his hand on my thigh in nylon. I felt ashamed, and at the same time it was pleasant to feel the warmth of his coarse male palm by my inner thigh. Prior to this, nobody touched me so shamelessly. I felt that my pussy got wet.
"Look how my cock is standing at you. It wants you", he added.
I had seen a huge hillock between her legs under trousers.
"Well, do you agree?" he asked.
I felt sorry for this unpleasant elderly man apparently deprived of female affection, and at my lower abdomen was so sweet languor after the touch my thigh with his hand.
After some hesitation I said: "Yes."
"So shall we go?" he asked.
"Let's go", I said.
The man had beamed with delight, on his face flashed a lustful expression. My grandma was not here yet.
"And where we are going to have the sex? At hotel?" I asked.
"There is a suitable place near", the man said.
We got out of the terminus, and he led me somewhere stepping over railroad tracks. We walked among the carriages of trains standing. On the way he was very nice to me and helpful, evidently anticipating the upcoming sexual pleasure and satisfaction, which he, the coarse elderly man, will obtain from me, the gentle 18 years old girl, a blonde with naive blue eyes.
On the way some street urchins of 12-14 years old tagged along behind us. They enviously and lasciviously watching us. "Ебаться идут", I heard. "They are going for fuck". My elderly beau had yelled at them menacingly: "Go away quickly!". Finally, boys got rid of us.
Behold we had come to some abandoned suburban electric train, to one of its empty carriages. The carriage steps were quite high off the ground for me. The man helped me to climb inside the carriage.
We entered the carriage, and I saw in dimness the two more men figures. I felt uneasy.
"Who is that?" I asked my elderly beau.
"Well, that's my pals", said he.
"Why they are here?!" I asked anxiously.
These two men came up to us. They were about 40 years old. One man was a chunky brunette of big height, wearing a cap, the other man was of average height, redhair, with impudent bony face. They were of rather nasty look, they smelled nasty vodka and tobacco fume.
"Ну что привел тёлку?" the chunky man in a cap asked. "Well, brought a heifer?"
I had seen the two dirty old mattresses scenting fuel oil, lying on floor, and now I realized that I have to have sex on these dirty mattresses with these coarse raunchy males smelling vodka and tobacco.
"We didn't agree so!" I burst into tears.
"Shut up! You, she goat ragged!" man in a cap said loudly. "Сейчас выебем тебя и отпустим, не бойся!" "Now we'll just fuck you and let you go! Do not be afraid!"
He approached me, and hugged me at once putting one his hand under my skirt, under my pantyhose and panties, roughly pawing my pussy, touching with his forefinger inside my labia minora.
"But she is wet already", he said addressing his nasty pals.
Indeed, my pussy was wet. Then he began to undress me unceremoniously.
This odd environment - the carriage, the three raunchy men, the dirty mattresses on floor - caused in me some strange mixed feeling of fear and excitement. The man in a cap already took off my skirt and blouse. I'm, an attractive 18 years old blonde gentle girl, now was standing half-dressed, only in my white lace bra, white lace panties, nylon flesh colour pantyhose on my shapely sexy legs, and high heeled varnished black shoes. It was visible as at the sight of me the big penises of the men stood up excitedly under their trousers.
But I still recalled the older man from the railway station that I had agreed to have sex with him only. Then he sat down with me, half-naked, upon the seat, hugged tenderly my shoulders, and began to urge me to give pleasure to his mates, who just had been released from prison to freedom. "They have not seen a naked woman during 8 years", he said.
I didn't consented still. The older man went on persuade me fondly and persistently. Yet I did not consented.
"Okay. Sit here until the morning. Your grandma perhaps searching you there strenuously", my beau from the railway station said.
I imagined vividly my alarmed grandma, and concurred for the sex in order to get rid of them quickly.
Then these three men began to argue sharply among themselves who will fuck me the first. The elderly man from the railway station already told them that I was a virgin. This was somehow very excited them. This their dispute was rather stormy, each of them wished passionately to be the first in fuck with the virgin. Finally, that man with too nasty face, in a cap, persuaded that he must be the first my fucker.
"Lie down!" he said to me roughly, pointing at the filthy mattresses.
I had laid down. He took off my bra, greedily sucked and bited both my breasts slobbering them, and then began to pull off my pantyhose and my white lace panties, taking off he tore them. He threw them crease crumpled nearby on the dirty mattress.
Behold I was laying on the mattress on my back, shamefully covering my pussy with my little hand, my legs bent at knees, my knees were together. The nasty former prisoner, the criminal, took off his cap, took off trousers and underpants, and the first time in my life I had seen a male's penis. Before I saw it only in pictures.
His penis was really very big. It seemed to me then just a huge one. It stood erected hardly like a baton. The penis head was bluish-purple. On the trunk of the cock were visible the sulked veins. From this unwashed cock the strong smell of a male b**st proceeded. All look of the cock, stressed and solid as a stone, showed how it was voluptuously lusting and longing me, my gentle wet vagina. Longing after the obtaining of its sweetest pleasure to ejaculate into my maiden virginal pussy a handful of hot male sperm, as a sign of its gratitude.
I was scared that such a thing I have to take into my little narrow pussy.
"But a condom?" I asked anxiously, "It was promised with a condom!"
"Who did promise that to you?" said the man, "Вот кто тебе обещал, тут пусть и ебёт тебя с гондоном". "But who promised that to you, let him fuck you with a condom"
Embarrassedly I imagined how the millions of tailed spermatozoons of this rude man, a former prisoner, are impudently rushing into my uterus, toward my ovum, and I felt unpleasantly.
"Set your legs apart!" he said me, and began with his hands roughly arrange apart my legs tightened at knees. He greedily snuggled with his mouth to my pussy and began passionately kiss it aspirated and lick greedily with his tongue my labia minora and my clitoris. I was frightened and felt very pleasurably at the same time.
The other two men watched avidly all this.
Then this chunky brunette, a former prisoner, began greedily in the same manner suck my breasts' nipples in turn, at the same time moving with his two fingers between my wet labia minora.
Then he had knelt down between my parted legs for a few seconds, touching with his coarse hairy thighs the gentle inner surface of my sexy thighs, and laid down upon me. I was feeling how such a great hot head of his cock was trying with pushes to thrust into my girlish vagina, stretching impertinently the narrow entrance of my virginal vagina. The man was moaning agitatedly breathing into my face with vodka and tobacco fumes.
I felt the pain.
"Please stop! It hurts me!" I begged.
But ignoring my plea the former prisoner continued saucily to squeeze his huge penis into my gentle girlish vagina. He already was fucking me, the very first time in my life, committing his frictions. The huge hot head of his cock already had got into my narrow vagina stretching it, and was stretching my hymen with pushes, trying to break through it.
"Please stop!" I cried again. I had wept.
I had felt the more sharper pain and cried out.
His huge cock broke through the hymen into my vagina, pulling on this hot club my gentle vaginal walls. Really he was pulling myself on his hot club with savage incessant pushes.
His club was advancing into my vagina deeper and deeper. The sensitive head of his penis was rubbing voluptuously the walls of my gentle vagina, which never felt within itself the male penis.
I was feeling how this head of his penis was drinking a sweetest pleasure from my gentle vagina. The man was committing his frictions on me, groaning louder and louder with pleasure. This former prisoner already just roared like a wild b**st with pleasure, smearing my face and lips with his stinky saliva.
It seemed to me, a gentle young girl, that already not the rude man fucked me, but a huge male dog, a huge monster enjoyed growling my pussy, my vagina, my sexy thighs, my gentle breasts. At the same time that scared and excited me.
And though it was very painful some strange pleasure was felt amongst this pain, and my vagina trickled with juice. My uterus began to contract rhythmically in tact with his fucking motions. Now I wanted to participate in this fuck with this huge b**st, and I became involved in the fuck, started "подмахивать ему", actively moving with my pelvis to and fro in tact with his frictions.
Two other men lowered their trousers to knees baring their erected hardly cocks, and masturbated excitedly looking at us, at our fuck. This nasty male, a former prisoner, breathing with the disgusting fumes, fucked me for a long time, it seemed to me the whole hour.
His cock pulled on itself my vagina and hit with its hot head my cervix, like a boxer hits a punching bag. I moaned piteously from pain and some strange pleasure. And now he had roared more loudly, even screamed with delight, and I was feeling how the hot liquid was erupting with strong jolts into my vagina. This hot liquid was squelching now under his moving cock in my vagina.
At last the chunky brunette doing a few more motions with his cock, pulled it out of my vagina and stood up.
The next who must fuck me was my old beau from the railway station, this 50 years old man. He was more dulcet with me. Firstly the long time this older man kissed me, a sexy blonde of 18 years old, slobbery and lewdly, caressing with his tongue my mouth inside.
Then he tenderly helped me to get doggy on all fours on these dirty mattresses already stained with my bl**d and the sperm. There were not the trousers on him already.
He had knelt down behind me, enough easily thrusted his cock into my vagina full of warm sperm, and began to fuck me very quickly like a dog, squeezing from behind with both his palms my boobs. The sperm of the previous fucker, the prisoner, was sloshing in my vagina. This squelch of sperm was clearly audible to all.
We fucked like two stray dogs perhaps a quarter of an hour - me, an 18 years old cute blonde slim girl, and the burly man with belly, about 50 years old, balding, suitable for me almost as a grandfather. He had got finally his sweet pleasure and satisfaction from me, of which he so long begged me at the station.
I also tried to participate in our fuck moving with my ass in tact with his movements. The older man was so gentle with me, the source of his pleasure, and when he was fucking me, he was agitatedly repeating: "Ah you my sweet little girl! Ah you my nicy!"
Sometime, in the midst of my sexual intercourse with this my elderly beau from the railway station, the thought about my grandma flashed in my mind: "Where is she now? Probably searching for me... What time is it now?" I really lost all sense of time during this my first so tempestuous sex.
The three men in turn did with me two sexual intercourses each.
The dirty mattresses smelling fuel oil were in spots of sperm and bl**d. My hips, pubic, whole lower abdomen were lavishly smeared with the cum of these three not young men.
Finally they finished obtaining their sexual satisfaction.
Now I represented a quite pitiful sight - disheveled, with the kiss hickeys on my breasts and neck, bedraggled with the sperm of these three males, and awfully tired. My deflorated stretched vagina, fucked with three big cocks, was aching. My uterus was still continuing to commit the rhythmic contractions, keeping the memory of the three hottest male batons.
I was lying exhausting with fatigue on these filthy mattresses. It was necessary to give tribute to my admire from the railway station - he had helped me to get up on my feet and get dressed. On the raffish face of this elderly man was visible the feeling of gratitude to me for giving him pleasure and satisfaction.
The two other men, the former prisoners, were on former rude with me, and already called me, an 18 years old girl, "блядью и сукой" "a whore and bitch", smoking and spitting contemptuously saying about me.
Somehow I put in order my hair, lipsticked, did quick maquillage. I was even swaying after such an abundant sex.
With an elderly man, my beau from the railway station, I exited the carriage. The two other men, the former criminals, stayed in the carriage. We went back to the terminus. At last I had glanced at my watch - just two hours remained to our train, so these men fucked me as many as four hours!
I still was swinging like a sailor after storm, my pussy was aching, all the time out of my pussy constantly was flowing the warm cum and dripping down along the inner surface of my thighs, dirtying my pantyhose. My pantyhose, skirt and even blouse were spotted with whitish withered sperm.
At last we reached the station. My grandma was absent at the same place. I can no longer to walk and search her. I felt so excruciated. Yet my elderly fucker found her somewhere at the terminus and brought her to me. Then he had disappeared at once. My grandma asked me anxiously eyeing me: "Nina, where have you been so long? I searched the entire terminus, even by terminus radio the ads were given, even to police appealed!"
I waved my hand negligently like a d***k bosun and said: "Я ебалась с тремя мужиками" "I had the fuck with three men"
"What?!" exclaimed my grandma, "Are you out of your mind?! What are you saying?!"
"Да, они выебали меня" I uttered saucily. "Yes, they have fucked me"
I added: "Threesome".
I got up and walked reeling like a d***k, found a pharmacy kiosk, and bought tampons kotex, a squirt, and a solution for douching. Then I went to the terminus toilet, closed in cubicle, lifted my skirt, pulled down my pantyhose and panties, sat down on the toilet bowl.
My panties and pantyhose's panties area were thickly impregnated with sperm, bl**d stains were visible too. Out of my vagina was still flowing the cum of these three strange casual men. I wondered: "If I get pregnant, whose a baby will be?" My pussy was hurt. I did douching for my excruciated vagina, inserted a tampon. It was the time for boarding our train...
Shortly afterwards I married my groom Yuri who came from the army. Thanks to my grandma, my groom knew nothing about that that I as a cheap terminus hooker was fucked by the group of former prisoners.
Now I'm already at the fourth month of pregnancy. By timing this cannot be a baby of my husband Yuri. It's a baby of one of these two former prisoners and elderly man with belly.
Well, let it be so...

Copyright © 2014 Natasha98

... Continue»
Posted by Natasha98 6 months ago  |  Categories: First Time, Group Sex, Hardcore  |  Views: 2013  |  
  |  1

The Beach at Cap d'Agde

Cap D'Agde, in the south of France, is legendary amongst nudists, libertines and hedonists generally, so you will not be surprised to know that a couple of years ago I made a pilgrimage there. It was early in the summer, June, and as always happens (well, at least it does with me) there is a particularly horny feeling in the air, as people are eager to feel the sun kiss their bodies, to expose their skin to the air and to eyes of fellow beachgoers. And at Cap D'Agde, with its very own and very sexy reputation, that feeling is even stronger.

Cap D'Agde is an entire resort dedicated to nudism and sexuality, and once I had installed myself I began to explore the opportunities. At the local shop I found that most people, like myself, were wearing shortsor beachwear, but there was a middle-aged English couple there quite happily shopping with full bondage gear, leather straps black boots. It felt really funny - OK, it felt a bit strange really - to see this couple, him with his dick hanging out, her with a shaved pussy and several pussyrings catching my eye, as they looked at the shop shelves just as people do in your local supermarket...

Getting used to the idea that in this context there was nothing strange about the scene, I bought myself some suntan lotion, a bottle of water, and a magazine with information about Cap d’Agde, before heading off to the beach, which was just a couple of hundred metres away. As I reached the sand, to the left and to the right I could see a magnificent scenario: sandy beach as far as the eye can see, gentle waves, and on the sand hundreds of naked bodies, lazily catching the sun. I tossed a coin mentally to decide which way to go, and headed left. After a minute or so of walking on the wet sand, I realized self-consciously that I was the only person wearing anything. OK, I had just arrived, but even so, maybe I should do like everybody else… Putting my small backpack on the ground, I felt a little shy at first, but soon I could feel the rush of pleasure as I stripped off, putting my Tshirt in my bag and pulling down my shorts to expose my cock to the full view of whoever cared to look. But of course nobody really cared to look, everybody was just enjoying their own nakedness… So off I continued, not quite sure what I was looking for. A little further on, I noticed that there were some sand dunes where occasional couples and groups were lying. It seemed a little less crowded, so I made my way there, and as I came close, I realised that my instinct had brought me to where I wanted to be: I had reached the exhibitionist and voyeur part of the beach.

Various couples were hanging out, some fondling each other, and in a couple of cases women were clearly enjoying lying back with their legs falling apart so that voyeurs, just a metre or two away, could enjoy a royal view of their open pussies. The two were pretending to be entirely natural, as if the fact that various guys were gathering just in front of them had nothing to do with them at all.

Unsure of myself I sat down somewhere in the middle of this area. Just above me, away from the sea, were two couples who were lying silently, though their occasional wandering hands signalled that sex was not at all far from their minds. To my left there was a couple that were enjoying a happy conversation, and I was encouraged to receive a friendly smile from the lady as I put my towel on the ground. Settling down, I just relaxed, feeling the heat of the summer sun on my body, gradually taking in and enjoying the surroundings. I lay on my back, and my cock lay happily against my balls, absorbing the warmth like a lizard on a rock.

The couples above me were Dutch, I could hear from their conversation. One of the women was obviously feeling sexy, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the way her hand was slowly moving up and down her body was suggesting that she was thinking of cocks, pussies and what they do when they come together. She was quite deliciously brown, all over, and if she lived in another time she would have been a great model for her compatriot Rubens. Her large and curvaceous body was very firm, and her breasts stood outwards proudly when she stood up, as did her beautiful round ass. Her pussy was shaved, and as brown as the rest of her. She was the only one of her group who was moving – the others were either sl**ping or listening to music on their ipods. My cock was meanwhile hardening at the view, and beginning to stand up, so I thought it would be best to turn over, onto my stomach, as I didn’t want to make a scene. But of course that only improved my view because by then I was looking right up between her legs, just a couple of metres away. She had tried two or three times to get the attention of her companion by stroking his back, but he didn’t seem interested. What a waste, I thought, such a pity! And then she had a gesture that I will never forget. Picking up her bottle of water, she splashed a few drops onto her tummy, gently spreading the water with her fingertips. And in the next moment, she opened her legs further, and carefully poured some water onto the mound above her slit. With her fingers she massaged the water all over her pussy, letting her finger slide between her pussylips. This went on for several minutes, and it was clearly an exclusive show for me because nobody had my angle of vision. Even now, as I remember that moment, I get hard from the memories. Back then I felt that I was fucking the whole beach through my towel as my hard cock buried its way into the sand. But she was funny this Dutch girl, because when she got up to walk down to the sea for a swim, I smiled at her but she just looked straight ahead, ignoring me, even though she had just given me this memorable spectacle…

A little later the French woman from the couple on my left went down for a swim. I watched as she entered the water, and after diving in she happily turned around and waved to her partner, who waved back. I got up and headed down as well, diving in to the water near the French woman. It was quite a shock on my warm skin, and when I came up I smiled at the French woman and said "Wow, that feels like making love: when one goes in, one feels big and hard, and when one comes out one feels small and shrunken!" She laughed at me, and I knew that we had established a good empathy. For several minutes, frollicking about in the sea, we chatted, and after a while she asked my advice about if there were any good clubs to visit. "Hot clubs" she added, as if I hadn't understood. I said that I didn't know but I had a magazine which I could show her. Maybe there was some advice there.

Back on the sand, as her partner went down for a swim, I took over the magazine to her, showing her a page that had various indications of clubs. She thanked me, and we looked at the magazine together for a few moments, until I began to feel my cock stiffen again. She was sitting cross-legged and I could see her pussylips nicely exposed, so you can understand why I was getting hard. I tried to be discreet but she noticed and laughed. "So, this is what happens when you come out of the water" she joked. I was a bit embarrassed but she wasn't at all. Her partner soon returned, and she introduced us: "This nice man has brought this magazine so we can see where to go later" she told him.
[And what happened later will be explained at another moment!!!]

... Continue»
Posted by redfredtroy 4 years ago  |  Categories: Group Sex, Voyeur  |  Views: 2386  |  
  |  5

The girls at Baker House

The girls at Baker House are at it again, they just love to distroy young guys gonads !
(Ref. see “New Collage Wrestling”)

More Crazy Frat Parties

The wrestling parties had all but died out, the local police and the collage administrators really started to crack down on them. They were getting pressure from the parents of some of the boy’s coming home for the holiday’s minus there balls. I also think that most of the guy’s realized that it was a better then a 50/50 chance they would lose there baby makers!
So the new game in town was a little more civilized. They were called “nad bashers” or “ribbon parties”. There pretty much your normal beer bash except the guys have their nuts pulled out their fly. When they arrive at the party there greeted by the ladies. There balls are exposed and a ribbon is tied around their sack, snug but not to tight. The ribbons about 2 feet long, that allows anybody at the party to pull them out if they slip back into his pants.
Boy’s balls has always been a fascination with young people, girls and boys. Boys like to rap other boys and girls seem to favor squeezing and pulling them.

My 3rd ribbon party was more in line with the way the girls at “Baker House” liked to play.
It started out pretty much the way they all do. Lot of drinking and some joints passing around. Some of the jocks were slapping each others nuts to show how much there could take. The girls pull a ribbon now and then, some would give a playful squeeze just to see the guy drop to his knees.
After about 2 hours I noticed a guy passed out on the couch, he had been taking a lot of hits of the weed and shooting the beers down.
Two of the Baker girls began to take an interest in him. They sat him up in the middle of the couch with the two of them sitting on each side of him.
One them grabbed hold of his ball sack and f***ed nuts up to give her partner a clear shot at them. Then they started to slap and punch his poor balls while they sat there and talked and drank their beer. When one got bored with the hitting they would trade off.
The poor guys balls were all red from the abuse they were taking but he was dead to the world out cold!!
The others at the party would go over to them like he was an exhibit and spend a few minutes with them and feel his nuts commenting that they look like their becoming swollen, then they would punch them and walk away laughing.
Another Baker girl came over and told them they were being foolish to do that. Your going to make your hands sore, why don’t you use your shoe! So one of the girls took off a shoe an started beating his poor nuts with the sole.
I just stood back and watched these two little girls pound his sore nuts till they were dark purple and swollen to the size of two tennis balls.
The girls left him alone on the couch after beating his nuts about 2 hours and the party ended a few hours after it started. When I left there were only a handful of people left plus the poor bastard on the couch. From across the room it looked like he was sitting there asl**p with an purple eggplant on his lap!!

I never heard what happened to him or who he was but the next day there was a story around the school to look on the internet at “” under “purple plums”.
When I did this is what was shown. The clip featured the midsection of a guy with a swollen pair of balls. There were 4 or 5 female bodies in attendance with no faces but it did have muffled sound.
A pair of hands had a shoe lace that they wrapped around the base of his nuts as another set of hands lifted the purple sack. The lacing was tied tight. Then a long old fashioned hat pin appeared in the picture and was pushed with some resistance into the side of one ball. While one pair of hands held this poor bustards nuts the other hands pushed and guided the long needle until it pocked out the side of the other ball. There was laughter and cheers as his nuts were speared.
Then the ladies took a full box of “push pins” the type with the plastic handle used on bulletin boards and took turns making a very colorful pin cushion out of his once pride and joy.
The clip ended and I doubt the poor k**s balls survived. It didn’t look like the girls in that group were in any hurry to remove the shoe lace and I doubt they sterilized the pins before they drove them into his sorry gonads.

Ya have to hand it to the girls over at Baker House. The know how to party. Just make sure you stay awake!

... Continue»
Posted by jimsapplesrblue 3 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish  |  Views: 306  |  

The Beach at Cap d'Agde

The Beach at Cap D'Agde

Cap D'Agde, in the south of France, is legendary amongst nudists, libertines and hedonists generally, so you will not be surprised to know that a couple of years ago I made a pilgrimage there. It was early in the summer, June, and as always happens (well, at least it does with me) there is a particularly horny feeling in the air, as people are eager to feel the sun kiss their bodies, to expose their skin to the air and to eyes of fellow beachgoers. And at Cap D'Agde, with its very own and very sexy reputation, that feeling is even stronger.

Cap D'Agde is an entire resort dedicated to nudism and sexuality, and once I had installed myself I began to explore the opportunities. At the local shop I found that most people, like myself, were wearing shortsor beachwear, but there was a middle-aged English couple there quite happily shopping with full bondage gear, leather straps black boots. It felt really funny - OK, it felt a bit strange really - to see this couple, him with his dick hanging out, her with a shaved pussy and several pussyrings catching my eye, as they looked at the shop shelves just as people do in your local supermarket...

Getting used to the idea that in this context there was nothing strange about the scene, I bought myself some suntan lotion, a bottle of water, and a magazine with information about Cap d’Agde, before heading off to the beach, which was just a couple of hundred metres away. As I reached the sand, to the left and to the right I could see a magnificent scenario: sandy beach as far as the eye can see, gentle waves, and on the sand hundreds of naked bodies, lazily catching the sun. I tossed a coin mentally to decide which way to go, and headed left. After a minute or so of walking on the wet sand, I realized self-consciously that I was the only person wearing anything. OK, I had just arrived, but even so, maybe I should do like everybody else… Putting my small backpack on the ground, I felt a little shy at first, but soon I could feel the rush of pleasure as I stripped off, putting my Tshirt in my bag and pulling down my shorts to expose my cock to the full view of whoever cared to look. But of course nobody really cared to look, everybody was just enjoying their own nakedness… So off I continued, not quite sure what I was looking for. A little further on, I noticed that there were some sand dunes where occasional couples and groups were lying. It seemed a little less crowded, so I made my way there, and as I came close, I realised that my instinct had brought me to where I wanted to be: I had reached the exhibitionist and voyeur part of the beach.

Various couples were hanging out, some fondling each other, and in a couple of cases women were clearly enjoying lying back with their legs falling apart so that voyeurs, just a metre or two away, could enjoy a royal view of their open pussies. The two were pretending to be entirely natural, as if the fact that various guys were gathering just in front of them had nothing to do with them at all.

Unsure of myself I sat down somewhere in the middle of this area. Just above me, away from the sea, were two couples who were lying silently, though their occasional wandering hands signalled that sex was not at all far from their minds. To my left there was a couple that were enjoying a happy conversation, and I was encouraged to receive a friendly smile from the lady as I put my towel on the ground. Settling down, I just relaxed, feeling the heat of the summer sun on my body, gradually taking in and enjoying the surroundings. I lay on my back, and my cock lay happily against my balls, absorbing the warmth like a lizard on a rock.

The couples above me were Dutch, I could hear from their conversation. One of the women was obviously feeling sexy, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the way her hand was slowly moving up and down her body was suggesting that she was thinking of cocks, pussies and what they do when they come together. She was quite deliciously brown, all over, and if she lived in another time she would have been a great model for her compatriot Rubens. Her large and curvaceous body was very firm, and her breasts stood outwards proudly when she stood up, as did her beautiful round ass. Her pussy was shaved, and as brown as the rest of her. She was the only one of her group who was moving – the others were either sl**ping or listening to music on their ipods. My cock was meanwhile hardening at the view, and beginning to stand up, so I thought it would be best to turn over, onto my stomach, as I didn’t want to make a scene. But of course that only improved my view because by then I was looking right up between her legs, just a couple of metres away. She had tried two or three times to get the attention of her companion by stroking his back, but he didn’t seem interested. What a waste, I thought, such a pity! And then she had a gesture that I will never forget. Picking up her bottle of water, she splashed a few drops onto her tummy, gently spreading the water with her fingertips. And in the next moment, she opened her legs further, and carefully poured some water onto the mound above her slit. With her fingers she massaged the water all over her pussy, letting her finger slide between her pussylips. This went on for several minutes, and it was clearly an exclusive show for me because nobody had my angle of vision. Even now, as I remember that moment, I get hard from the memories. Back then I felt that I was fucking the whole beach through my towel as my hard cock buried its way into the sand. But she was funny this Dutch girl, because when she got up to walk down to the sea for a swim, I smiled at her but she just looked straight ahead, ignoring me, even though she had just given me this memorable spectacle…

A little later the French woman from the couple on my left went down for a swim. I watched as she entered the water, and after diving in she happily turned around and waved to her partner, who waved back. I got up and headed down as well, diving in to the water near the French woman. It was quite a shock on my warm skin, and when I came up I smiled at the French woman and said "Wow, that feels like making love: when one goes in, one feels big and hard, and when one comes out one feels small and shrunken!" She laughed at me, and I knew that we had established a good empathy. For several minutes, frollicking about in the sea, we chatted, and after a while she asked my advice about if there were any good clubs to visit. "Hot clubs" she added, as if I hadn't understood. I said that I didn't know but I had a magazine which I could show her. Maybe there was some advice there.

Back on the sand, as her partner went down for a swim, I took over the magazine to her, showing her a page that had various indications of clubs. She thanked me, and we looked at the magazine together for a few moments, until I began to feel my cock stiffen again. She was sitting cross-legged and I could see her pussylips nicely exposed, so you can understand why I was getting hard. I tried to be discreet but she noticed and laughed. "So, this is what happens when you come out of the water" she joked. I was a bit embarrassed but she wasn't at all. Her partner soon returned, and she introduced us: "This nice man has brought this magazine so we can see where to go later" she told him.
[And what happened later will be explained at another moment!!!]
... Continue»
Posted by freddybgood 2 years ago  |  Categories: Group Sex, Voyeur  |  Views: 1239  |  
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Keeping the Police at bay.

His cock was sliding inside me. I was so used to having cock in my ass you wouldn't think it mattered, but each time that it was a completely new cock got me more excited. And this was the first time this cock was using my ass for fun.

This was one of the weekends at the cabin I have written about before. One of the weekends where I made a lot of extra money being a nice little cum dump for many wealthier men. The cabin was fairly secluded and near a pretty private branch of a fairly large lake. That being said it wasn't completely secluded. And this party was a little wilder than most of the other ones. It was getting to be loud.

That's the reason I was taking this new cock inside me. Apparently the neighbors were complaining about the noise and I was asked to ease the tension of the situation by helping this gentlemen release his tension in my ass. We weren't sure it would work, but my very young (but of legal age) look helped me seduce this neighbor I had never met before. Most guys won't admit it, but they like younger looking persons since they started puberty when those younger looking persons were all around them.

Anyway, here was the neighbor slaving away on my ass. My face buried in a pillow. My ass was very loose for me as I had probably already had a dozen loads pumped up me that night. But it was approaching midnight and this guy came over to complain. He's not complaining any more. He must have not cum in a month since when he did it seemed like a cup of cum came out of me. Or it could have been the backlog of loads up there finally making their way out.

He got up and thanked me. We went to different bathrooms to clean up. I sat on the toilet and made sure all the cum that was up there was deposited there. Then I cleaned myself out with a small enema. After all, I am paid to be a dirty little slut with a clean hole.

As I e****ted our new friend to the exit we were greeted by two cops when I opened the door. Our new neighbor explained that he called the police before coming over and hadn't called back to cancel the complaint since he was busy working my ass over. He told the police officers that he no longer wanted to complain and that he was heading home. It was significantly quitter at that time anyway.

So there I was trying to explain the situation of what was going on to two cops. One looked to be in pretty fit shape and the other was a little overweight. But not much. They asked what was going on there looking at the parking lot full of $80,000 and up cars. I explained that it was just a get together of like minded friends and their company. Which it really kind of was.

The cops weren't too pushy until they saw another one of my entertainer friends leaving a room completely naked with a towel cleaning his backside. That must have piqued the cops interest since they asked if they could come into the house and search. I knew they couldn't unless they had a warrant or someone invited them in. I politely declined but asked them what they would be searching for. After a short pause, the bear type of cop said "ass."

I smiled and said they could search my bedroom and my bedroom only. They agreed and I took them up to my room at the top of the stairs. Once inside, they made a cursory look around. On the side table they found a tube of lube and some condoms inside the drawer. They asked what these were for. And I said I could show them. I quickly dispensed with the shorts, tshirt, and underwear I was wearing and knelt before them. I had both their cocks in my mouth in les than 10 seconds.

As I was working on one the other would disrobe completely. Once all three of us were naked I climbed on the bed and got on my back. Lifting my legs up I exposed the red and well used ass I had to them. The younger one got in there first and starting hitting deep and hard. While that was going on, the bear flopped his short but thick cock in my face. I was being face fucked. Which meant I was getting it at both ends.

After just a few minutes of this, I could tell the cock in my mouth was ready to release. So I took a deep breath, grabbed his ass and pulled him hard to my face. He wasn't long, but long enough that he squirted right into my throat and I barely tasted or felt the cum. But the nice thing was that at that moment his partner was unleashing a nice little deluge in my ass.

This was the first time I can remember having two loads injected in me at the same time. Which is saying something since I have had hundreds of cocks and thousands of loads before. They both got off and I lay there as they got clothes back on. I thanks them for coming by and walked them to the door. Ones cum oozing out of my ass and making my cheeks slippery when I walked. The others cum I could taste as I burped a little of it up.

After they left I went back to my room and waited. After a few minutes I heard a knock on the door and it was one of our regular guests there to have his way with my ass. I greeted him and took him to my bed. ... Continue»
Posted by Pennis17 8 months ago  |  Categories: Anal, Gay Male, Hardcore  |  Views: 1025  |  
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