Jeffrey’s First Time
Jeffrey was 19. At 6-2 and 225, he was, well, gawky. That was the kind description–gawky. Athleticism, coordination, strength, confidence, maturity–they had not yet caught up with his physical size. So he was…gawky. Uncomfortable in his skin. Felt like he stood out in a crowd. Like he was always bumping into things. Like he was a freak.
Of course, this was Miami Beach. Lots of freaks, even in 1965. At Miami Beach High School, he had been, to the other boys, the freak. The geek. The circus clown. To the basketball and football coaches, he had been a dream come true. And to the girls, those hormone-laden, curiosity-driven, sexuality-swelling girls, well, he had been a constant source of whispers.
“You don’t think his could be …”
“Look at the size of his hands…you know what they say …”
“I don’t think I could …”
A constant source of amusement, amazement, entertainment.
But at 19, a freshman at the U, he was still oblivious to most of it—and still a virgin. In 1965 it wasn’t unusual for college freshmen to be virgins—many were. But some were not, and in 1965, the sexual revolution had not yet happened—the kids who were not virgins were the “bad kids,” especially the girls. They were “loose.” Like all boys his age, he was aware of his desires. He looked at the girls. A lot. But having grown almost a foot in nine months, he was most aware of his own body, how odd it looked, how strange it felt, how out of place he believed he was.
Then there was his family. The fucking family. These were some of the craziest people on the Beach, he thought. His uncles, Ed, Len, Sid, Merv. His father’s brothers. They drove motorcycles. They smoked weed. They cheated on their wives. They fought with each other. Really fought! Fists. Blood and bruises. Real anger. (Well, maybe not Sid. Sid was a lover. He was more interested in girls. He wouldn’t fight. Might mess up his face.). But for the rest, fighting was a way of life. They’d grown up on the Beach. Went to school on the Beach, before it was “The Beach.” Fucked every girl they could get their hands on. Watched it change. Watched it grow. Grew with it. Watched the influx of New Yorkers and their money change the Beach. Watched the culture morph, right before their eyes, from their little town on the island into the playground of the western world. Fought, every day, for their little piece of the action. Grew up fighters.
Suddenly there was money on the Beach, and with money came glamour. And strangers, and celebrities, and con men, and hookers, and pimps, and dandies, and thugs, and cops, and guns. And excitement. A lifestyle made for these five brothers. Ed, Len, Sid, Merv. And Harv. His father. Sanest one of the bunch, although sanity was a relative term.
But by 1965 the Beach had changed again. The glitz had moved on, to Hollywood, to the Caribbean, to the French Riviera. A lot of ex-pat Americans who had made fortunes in Batista’s Cuba had come back to the Beach after Castro’s revolution in 1958 to find a sad, deteriorating Miami Beach, and they had settled into the work-a-day lifestyles of “The American Dream” and waited for their chance to go back to Havana. Soon. And of course, there were the old people, thousands and thousands of retired New Yorkers and Philadelphians and Chicagoans, who had retired to Miami Beach for the warmth of the sun and the lifestyle of the rich and famous, although most of them had gotten there too late.
This was not the South Beach of Miami Vice, of Crockett and Tubbs, of CSI-Miami and Horatio Cane, of beautiful, wealthy, long-legged Eurotrash and South-American girls in scanty clothes. This was 1961. It was dreary, post-glamour grey. About the best you could say about Miami Beach now was that it was sunny and warm. All the time, sunny and warm. Actually, sunny and hot. All the time sunny and hot. And humid. Damp-shirts-sticking-to-your-body sunny, hot and humid. Always-a-drop-of-sweat-on-the-end-of-your-nose sunny, hot, and humid.
This was the flat, hot, full-of-old-people Miami Beach in which Jeffrey grew up, and still lived in, even though he was in college now. Nineteen and large, he was a mass of contradictions—conscientious student, potential star athlete (the operative word here being “potential”), physical geek, object of the fantasies of high-school girls.
He did love the girls. At least he thought he did. He was too shy to say much to them, but he did love looking at them with their damp shirts sticking to their bodies (Beach High had little air conditioning in 1964, and what it had was mostly ineffective). He thought often about their bodies—what they would look like with no clothes on, how it would feel to touch them, to stroke their breasts, to run his hands up and down their legs.
He was obsessed with their breasts. Mostly small, round, firm, upright breasts, pushing out against tight, damp blouses. Occasionally he could see the small, dark circles in the centers if one of the girls wore a flimsy bra and a white blouse. That really turned him on. He would go home after school, lock the bedroom door, fantasize about one girl or another, and stroke his cock until he came into a towel.
He had discovered masturbation a couple of years earlier. He had awoken one night from a wild dream. In the dream it was night, and he was on the beach with two—TWO!!—of his classmates. They were all naked. The girls sat directly in front of him, stroking his cock and his nipples while he played with their breasts, and then all of a sudden he experienced a violent, pulsing orgasm that woke him up. The next day he found himself alone in the house and he tried to recreate that feeling. He undressed, sat on his bed, closed his eyes and tried to re-imagine the dream. Consciously re-creating the fantasy, he imagined much more detail.
Mangoes. In his fantasy he thought of the girls’ breasts as mangoes. Soft, over-ripe, fleshy mangoes, with stems sticking out. He had never actually seen a girl’s breasts except in a magazine he found in his father’s closet. And in the pictures, the breasts were enormous. Not like the breasts of the girls HE knew. The girls he knew had breasts like—mangoes, that is how he imagined them, contained by brassieres, under damp cotton blouses.
He closed his eyes and imagined sitting cross-legged on the beach, two beautiful, suntanned, bikini-clad co-eds sitting, facing him, with their legs spread wide as he moved in closer. He imagined that he was gently squeezing the breasts—in the fantasy the girls had no faces, only breasts—and playing with the nipples, as if they were overripe fruit. They were soft and pliable. He knew what they felt like, like mangoes; mangoes grew everywhere on the Beach. He kneaded them with gentle fingertips, flicking the nipples, trailing his fingers around the dark, round circles of the aureoles, and the girls moaned softly. He imagined them beginning to stroke themselves between their legs. He watched them trace small circles at the tops of their vaginas—he knew there was something there, but he wasn’t sure just what it was—but he watched them play with themselves, occasionally pushing a finger or two between the swollen lips, spreading the lips of their pussies to expose the pink inner flesh, getting their fingers wet and making those small circles again, faster now, and accompanied by moans of pleasure.
With eyes still closed, his hands moved involuntarily to his own now swollen erection as he heard the girls’ moans grow in frequency and intensity. The hands in his mind continued playing with four breasts while the hands at the end of his arms stroked his cock and lifted his balls off the bed and massaged them with insistent fingertips. As one girl, then the other laid back and brought herself to a loud and shaking orgasm, his own cock shook, then tightened, and then exploded in pulses of hot cum, into the white towel he had draped over his lap to catch the mess. He fell back on the bed and felt himself spasm again and again, holding the towel tight against his cock, trying to keep the warm fluid off the bed (he didn’t want his mother to know what he was doing, after all). He cleaned up the best he could, embarrassed that he might get caught, and tried to think of what to say if he did. Never occurred to him that his parents had had the same experiences or knew that he was getting to “that age.”
But a couple of days later, his father said something sly to him, almost as if he knew, but he never raised the issue again.
But by nineteen, he had become a master of masturbation, quick or slow, whatever the circumstance allowed. He could raise an erection in seconds if the opportunity arose. He had also become a collector of porn magazines, which were available in the news stands along Washington Avenue, and which he used to help him conjure up his fantasies. The newsstand guys all knew him, calling him by name to get his attention if they saw him walking down the Avenue, showing him the latest dirty magazine. He ate them up. And he always had money. He was from the fruit-stand family, and everyone on the Beach knew the fruit-stand family. It’s why he hadn’t left town to go to college. He worked at the family fruit stand.
The fucking fruit stand. They called it the fruit stand because that’s how it started more than fifty years earlier. It had become a very successful store on Espanola Way, and then moved to bigger digs up by the Lincoln Road mall. Fresh fruit and vegetables Uncle Len bought every morning at the produce market over in Miami. They sold only the best fruit and vegetables, the biggest, most beautiful pieces. The ugly ones, the small ones, the ones with bruises, got cut up and made into fruit salad or tossed salad or tomato-and-cucumber salad, whatever they had to use up.
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Jeffrey worked in the back, every day before school and all day Saturdays, cutting up oranges and grapefruits and melons and bananas, chopping onions and celery and lettuce, making packages of ready-made salads for customers who were too busy, or too lazy, or too old to make their own. It was a terrific scam. They could make more money on a bruised orange than on a big beautiful one, by making it into something else. A tomato and a cucumber were a dime each. A tomato-and-cucumber salad with a couple of pieces of onion, some oil and vinegar and oregano, was a buck and a half. And business was great. There was always lots of money.
His uncles were always talking about girls. And sex. They occasionally teased him about still being a virgin. Every time a good-looking woman came in the store, Uncle Sid asked him if he would fuck her. Would he? Could he? Would he know how? And they were always telling him how sex was like fruit. Breasts were compared to fruits: cantaloupes or casabas or cranshaws, peaches or plums, grapefruits or (God forbid) cranberries. Women had cunts like ripe strawberries, nipples like raspberries, asses like honeydews. Cocks were cucumbers. Testicles were walnuts (or coconuts if one of them hadn’t gotten any in a while). That’s why Jeffrey thought of breasts as mangoes. Uncle Sid once told Jeffrey that fucking a girl felt like sticking his cock into an extremely overripe banana (think soft, soft flesh that resisted a little, then gave way, inside a tough banana skin). He once cut the end off a soft, old, dark-brown banana and asked him if he wanted to fuck the banana. Nice!
And that’s how it came to be that Jeffrey was finally to lose his cherry (that was what Uncle Sid called it). One Saturday morning, around eleven, Uncle Len came into the back room and said," Jeffrey, I need your help. I left my glasses home, and I need them. Could you go get them for me?"
Jeffrey looked up from his workbench and said, “Sure. Just let me wash up.” He didn’t notice the other four brothers standing huddled together and grinning just beyond the door into the front of the store. Uncle Len and Uncle Sid, both currently divorced, shared an apartment a few blocks from the store. An easy walk on a hot South-Florida morning.
“Take the elevator,” Uncle Len said. “The cleaning lady is probably there. Just go right into my bedroom; I think I left my stuff on the bed.” Wink. Jeffrey didn’t notice.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’ll be back in a half hour.”
“Take your time.” Wink.
Three blocks over to West Avenue and up to the corner at Eleventh, Jeffrey rode the private elevator up to the bachelor pad that took up the whole top floor of the building. The elevator opened into a small entry foyer, which gave way to a large leather-and-glass-decorated living room. The kitchen was to the right, and the bedrooms were at opposite ends of a hallway through an entry way and past the living room. Uncle Len’s room was to the left.
Jeffrey went down the hall and into the bedroom, and there she was. The cleaning lady. But this was no cleaning lady. She was sitting up in bed, sheets draped over her legs, naked from the waist up.
“Hi. You must be Jeffrey. Come on over here. I’m Crystal. I’m a present from Uncle Len and Uncle Sid.”
She didn’t look much like Jeffrey had imagined his first fuck would look like. She wasn’t a tight, young high-school girl, she didn’t look much like the girls he saw at the beach. She didn’t look much like the women in the magazines. She must have been about forty, looked like she must have been attractive once. Now she just looked old. Her hair was brown and cut very short. Her face was pretty, but not beautiful. Worn-looking. Her breasts didn’t look like any fruit he had ever seen. Not cantaloupes. Not grapefruits. Certainly not mangoes. They looked sort of like half-deflated balloons. The nipples were large, soft, flat, and pointed down. He couldn’t see her legs, but her belly was soft and round. She looked like she’d been around a bit.
“Uh…hi?”
“Well. You’re a big one, aren’t you? Like your father.”
“You know my father?”
“Harvey? Like, who on the Beach doesn’t know Harvey? He’s the good-looking one.”
His father got around.
“Jeffrey, why don’t you come over here? I’m paid for for two hours.”
He needed to hear that.
On the other hand, he was about to get laid, and he wouldn’t have to beg for it. Or stumble through the uncomfortable parts—like the preening, the petting, the inevitable social dance kids go through as they grope their way through sex when they are young. He figured that he was in the hands of a professional now, and at least he would get it right the first time.
“Okay. Let me get undressed.”
“Leave your shorts on. “I’ll take them off for you.”
He kicked off his shoes, dropped his pants to the floor, and unbuttoned his shirt. It was damp with sweat. Of course.
She drew the sheets back, exposing her fleshy thighs. He walked slowly over to the bed and started to sit down.
“Wait,” she said. “Stand there.”
She scooted over so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed facing him. She reached out and began to slide his shorts down over his legs. His erection caused her to pause a moment and admire. Even though she was a pro, and had seen more cocks than she could remember, she had to admire his size. Not bad, she thought. This might actually be interesting.
She got his shorts down around his ankles, managing to brush her lips against his strong, youthful erection as she did. As she sat back up, she did it again. His knees buckled slightly.
And he came. Standing up. Shot hot cum all over her face, in her hair.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
He stood there, mortified, unable to move from where he stood, his feet rooted to the floor. He looked down at his still-throbbing cock as it squeezed out a few more shots of cum onto the rug. His cock began to deflate and point back down toward the floor.
“I guess that’s it then?” he asked. “I guess I’ll go back to work.”
“Not on your life, sweetheart. I got you for two hours. Sit down. I want to wash up.”
She stepped off the bed and brushed past him toward the bathroom. He heard the water running, then the toilet flush, then the water again. She padded back to the bed, talking quietly to herself.
“Okay, then. We’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get to work. I’ve got two hours to get that thing back up to size and teach you a few things. You ready?” A pro.
She pushed him down onto the bed. And smiled.
He was on his back, his legs bent at the knees over the edge of the bed. Crystal sat down next to him, and he started to sit up.
“No,” she said. “Just lay back. We’re going to go slow now, and you are just going to lay there and do what you’re told. This’ll be worth it, I promise.”
“I …”
“Shhh!. Talk later. I’ll tell you when.”
She rose to her knees, swung her left leg over him, and straddled his waist, facing him and resting on her knees. She began by tracing small circles around his nipples. Slowly. Maddeningly slowly. While she did so, she talked to him. In a low, guttural voice.
“This is what you want girls to do to you,” she said. “Tell them how much you love it.”
Every so often she pinched one of his nipples. Hard.
“Ouch!” he cried.
“Shhhhh!. That doesn’t hurt. It tingles. It feels good. Doesn’t it feel good?”
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“No! It hurts.”
“It won’t always hurt. It’ll feel good.
She pinched again, a little softer this time. “Better?”
Then she leaned forward and kissed his right nipple. Then bit it, but gently. And suddenly, his nipples didn’t hurt any more. In fact, they tingled. Just like she said. Tingled. He could feel it up and down his spine. She kissed the left one. And bit it gently. Then licked it, flicked it with her tongue, licked it again, then bit it again, a little harder.
He groaned. “Ooooooooohhhhhh…”
“Yeah, I though so.”
She went back to work on the right nipple. Lick. Flick. Bite. Flick. Lick. Then the left. Right. Left. Right. Left.
“Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh…”
This went on for a while, and although he hadn’t gotten another erection yet, his head was spinning deliriously. Every pleasure center in his body was buzzing. He found himself absent-mindedly reaching for and stroking his soft dick, hoping, trying to get it to rise again. He felt tingling, but so far no motion.
She rolled over onto her back. “Now, you do it to me.”
He straddled her like she had straddled him. He reached down to her breasts, which laid soft, flat, and wide on her chest, nipples large, bigger than silver dollars. The tips, too, were large and soft, but when he touched them, they seemed to firm up and rise. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so what he did was mimic what she’d done to him. His fingers traced circles around her nipples, and he flicked the tips like he might flick a fly off the table.
“No,” she said, “not like that. Lick your fingers. Get them real wet. That’s it. Now, take one, the right one—no, no, the other right one, yeah, that’s it–between the thumb and forefinger of your right hand, and roll it around, but gently, like it’ll break if you squeeze it too hard. Keep your fingers wet. Lick them again. Now, take the whole breast, from the underside, and hold it in your left hand. Hold it up. Press your hands together a little bit—that’s it, give it a little pressure from both sides…aaahhhhhh, yes, that’s it. That’s good. Keep doing that…good. Now, while you’re doing that, lean down and kiss the nipple. Kiss it, lick it—keep rolling it between your fingers, keep it wet. Yeah, that’s it. A little harder. Aahhhh, good. Ouch. Wait. That hurt.
“Okay. Listen, but don’t stop. Do it more gently. Little circles, gentle pinches. Gentle. That’s it. If you’re going to be a good fuck, you have to understand a few rules. Here’s rule number one: When a girl says ‘Harder,’ she means just a tiny bit harder. Just a tiny bit. You want to add pressure only in tiny little amounts. If she wants you to hurt her, she’ll say, ‘Hurt me.’ Then, don’t quite hurt her. Make her say ‘Hurt me’ again. Make sure. If she really wants you to hurt her, she’ll let you know. But be careful. Some girls are into pain, but not that many. You may find that you like it too, but that is for another time. Pain is something that two people ought to explore together. And very carefully.
“So. Gentle. A little pressure. And keep those fingers wet. Aaahhhhhhh…goooood. Oil is good, too. There are some pretty good massage oils. Keep some around. Now, do the other one, the same way. Slowly, Jeffrey, sloooowwwly. Aaahhhhhhh. Gooood.”
While he did this, she took his cock in her hands and began to slowly massage its length, up and down, up and down. He felt a stirring down there, and he knew that he was getting hard again. Not as hard as before, but it was definitely happening. Her stroking was making him feel good all over. Up and down, up and down, with one hand, and he felt her cup his balls gently in the other hand, pushing them up and rubbing them gently. It felt goooooood.
“Okay, you’re ready for more,” she said. “On your back.!”
He didn’t want to stop, but she was so fully in charge now that he flopped over, arms spread wide, and waited to see what she would do next. She climbed onto him, straddling him again, but facing away from him this time. She slid her body back toward his head so that her wide ass—honeydew melons, but huge—was almost in his face, and then she leaned forward, took his cock in her two hands, stroked it twice, and then put her mouth over the head—just the head, and began to suck. Then she stopped and sat up.
“Now listen, kid. If you feel like you are going to come again, say something, fast. I want to know the moment you feel like something is going to happen. Do not come until I tell you it’s okay. Understand? If you feel something, tell me. Don’t wait. Got it?”
“Okay!”
She bent back down and began to suck again, this time taking more of him into her mouth and then letting it out, and again, and again, up and down, her tongue moving firmly against the underside of his now-hard cock. Her hands were on it too, working in rhythm with her mouth, up and down, up and down, and she made small gurgling noises as she took in his full length. And then he felt the twitch.
“Uh…I think I’m gonna…”
“PULL YOUR ASS IN TIGHT, AS TIGHT AS YOU CAN. PULL YOUR BALLS UP. TIGHTEN THAT MUSCLE. NOW!! HOLD IT! TIGHT! HOLD IT! DON’T LET GO UNTIL I TELL YOU TO! SQUEEZE!” she commanded. Then more softly, “Hold on to it, Jeff. Don’t let go.”
She took his cock, just below the head, between her thumb and two fingers and squeezed. Hard. She held it for about ten or twelve seconds. “How do you feel now? Do you still feel like you’re gonna come?” she asked.
“Uh, no,” he said. “I think it passed. I can feel it settling down.”
“Okay then. Now. Here’s Rule number two: Never, EVER, come in a girl’s mouth without a prior agreement, understand? If you do, you’ll never see her again. Talk to her before you do that.”
“Talk to her? What do I do? Ask her if I can come in her mouth?”
“No, Shithead, not like that. Be a little smart. When a girl starts to go down on you, just simply ask, ‘What do you want me to do If I feel like I’m gonna come?’ If she says ‘Just go ahead and come,” then hose down her tonsils. Give her all you’ve got. She’ll let go when she’s ready.
“If she says ‘Tell me, let me know,’ then tell her. And then let her do what she wants to do. Or, if you don’t want to come, tell her that you’re going to do the squeeze trick. Ask her if she knows it, tell her what you want her to do, tell her exactly, and tell her you’ll tell her when. And tell her to squeeze hard. She won’t hurt you. She won’t squeeze you as hard as I did. No one does. And then, when the time comes, say ‘NOW! SQUEEZE!’ And then you squeeze that ass muscle of yours until the feeling passes. Got it?”
“Yup. Got it.”
“Okay, then. Let’s try this again.”
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She leaned back down and began sucking on him again. This time he felt like he could manage the pleasure, enjoy it, focus on her movements, on her hands, on her lips, on her tongue, and it felt incredible. For the first time, he felt like he was actually in control of the feelings in his body.
He put his hands on the soft cheeks of her ass and spread them, only to find the small brown spot that was her anus. He wasn’t ready for that, and she knew it. She shifted up a bit, raised her hips, and just like that, before him was her vagina, her pussy. He’d never actually seen one before, and it was nothing like he expected. Lots of flesh, lots of folds, lots of layers. He tried to spread the layers of flesh to get a better look, and she laughed.
“Wait a second here, my young lover,” she said, disengaging from his cock. “Do you want some of that? Are you ready for that?”
“I think so.”
“You think so? You’d better be sure. Once you smell it, once you taste it, you’ll either never want to go near it again, or you won’t be able to live without it. Are you sure?”
“What do I do?”
She climbed off, rolled over onto her back and spread her legs, pulled her knees up to her chest and held them there with her arms.
“Okay, here’s what you do. Fingers first. Lick them wet. Gently spread the first layer of skin and look for the pink. See it? Put your middle finger in there, slowly, slowly, all the way in. Good. Now pull it out slowly, rubbing it hard against the top wall, with the pad of your finger. Slower… stop there…stroke it right there like you’re signaling me to come here. That’s it, stroke it. Again. A little harder. Again. Aaahhhhh. Put another finger in, your index finger. Good. Stroke it again. Aaahhhh. Keep going. Don’t stop. Two fingers. Good. Aaaahhhhhh… Now, bend down and lick your thumb, get it real wet. Good. Now lay it gently against the little button at the top of my cunt. Do you see it? It looks like a little pimple…oh, yes, that’s the one. Soft little circles. Oh, yes, keep stroking with those fingers…oooooo, yesssss. Now, bend down again, and move your thumb and use your tongue. Around that little button. Good. That’s it, round and round, oooooohhhhh, yesssssssss. That’s it, round and round…Oooooohhhhhhhh, yesssssssssss. Oooohhhhhhhhhh, Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, Yeah, that’s it, round and ….. aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh, Ohhh, oohhh oohhhh, ooohhhh, OH! OH! OH! OH! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
“Fuck,” she muttered. Again.
She came. She actually came. She didn’t think she was going to do that. She didn’t want to do that. It’s not something a pro does. But Jesus, he’s so…cute, and so…grateful, and so…ahhh… pliable. She came. How unprofessional.
After allowing herself a few minutes to catch her breath, to compose herself, she said, “Okay, kid, it’s your turn.”
She moved him to the center of the bed and had him sit upright, with his legs crossed. She came to him, face to face, breasts against his chest, up on her knees, and began to lower herself down onto his long, hard, and upright cock. She lowered herself slowly, holding onto his shoulders for leverage. Just as his cock began to push aside the outer lips of her cunt, he stopped her.
“Wait,” he said.
“What?” she replied, surprised and a little annoyed. She was actually getting excited by this. She didn’t want to stop.
“I’m about to have a moment here,” he said. “I’ve never done this before, been inside a girl. The first time only happens once. Let me take a deep breath, close my eyes, remember the moment.”
“Cute,” she thought.
“Okay. I’m ready. Go.”
He was leaning back a little, supporting his weight on his hands. She reached down with her right hand and took his cock at the base, held it firmly, and guided him in. Holding his shoulder tightly with her left hand, she allowed herself to slide down over his cock, lower and lower, until her sopping-wet pussy took his entire length. She could feel it, going deeper and deeper, until she was sitting square on his lap and she could feel his cock almost in her belly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his chest and laid her head against his neck. She held him tight. And she moved, gently at first, then more insistently, against his upright body, grinding against him in an upward motion, her hips moving firmly against him, grinding, again and again and clinging to his body as tightly as she could.
He grunted.
“Good. Does that feel good? Move with me.” She sounded like a caged animal. “Move against me. Grind it. Grind it hard. Catch my rhythm. Move with me. Good. Yesssss. Now, concentrate on my breathing. Listen…listen…put your arms around me.”
He did. She laid her head against his neck and began to speak, low and slow, almost growling.
“Hold me tight. Breathe with me. Find the rhythm of my breathing, and breathe with me. That’s it. Breathe. Breathe. Aaaahhhhhhhh, yesssssssss, aaaaaaahhhhhhhh, ooohhhhhhhh, yessssss.”
Their bodies were crushed against each other. Their hips were grinding in rhythm. Their breathing was perfectly synchronized. She spoke again.
“Feel your energy moving, out of your cock, into my body and up my spine. Feel it. Feel waves of energy. Close your eyes. Feel the energy. Up. Uuupppp. Uuuuuuuppppppppp. Aaaaahhhhhhhhh. Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh. Feeeeeelllllll the waaaavves. Aaaahhhhhhh.”
He felt it. He could feel his whole body, all the muscles in his chest, in his arms, in his neck, tingling, tingling, electric charges coming from his cock, into her pussy, up her chest, up her back, up his chest, up his back, through his arms and out his fingers, now holding the back of her head and pulling her closer to him, tighter, tighter, tighter…
She let out a scream…“OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” and her breaths came fast. She sucked for air. Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath. And then, she caught her breath, got control of her breathing, finally, and then laughed. A low, guttural laugh. Like an animal.
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And then, suddenly, without any warning, his whole core exploded. His hips tightened and jerked hard against her, his arms pulled her as tight as he could—he was no longer able to control a single muscle in his body. It wasn’t that familiar series of spasms, ten or twelve contractions of his abdominal muscles, like it was when he jerked off, but rather just one tight squeeze—his hips simply tightened up and jammed his cock into her, as far as her body would allow, smacking her belly with his belly, and then locking up there, as the repeated spasms he thought he was familiar with seemed to come from a different place, from his chest, his lungs, his throat…
“AAAHHH…AAAAHHHHHH….AAAMMMMMFFFFFFFFFF… UUUUMMMMPPPHHHHHHH… UUUUNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHH!!!!!….AAAHHH….AAHHH…AAA HHH…AAAHHH…AAAHHH… AAAHHH…AAAHHH…”
He was holding on for dear life then, clinging to her as if she was holding him up, that if he let go he would fall over. He held on tight, for what felt like hours, and then just as suddenly, his entire body went slack. He slumped. Into her arms, onto her shoulders, but her body couldn’t hold his weight, and she pushed him. Onto his back. His breaths came deep and fast, eight, nine, ten, eleven…and then slowed.
Spent.
She looked down into his eyes, wide open and unblinking.
“You Son of a Bitch. You Son of a Bitch. YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!”
“What?”
“You Son of a Bitch. You told me you were Harvey’s son, didn’t you, you Son of a Bitch. I should have known. God Damn, I should have known.”
“What?”
She had come. Again. That was twice. With this God Damn fucking virgin kid, a kid who’d never even seen a woman’s pussy before. God Damn hookers aren’t supposed to come with the johns. She knew that. She had lived that. For twenty years. And then this kid had to come along and make her fucking come. Twice.
She laughed out loud. “Son of a Bitch. You ARE Harvey’s kid, aren’t you?”
She took a deep breath, then another. She got up, walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He heard her get in, saw steam coming from the bathroom, heard her laugh. He couldn’t move from the spot. He just listened. And felt. He tingled all over. His head was spinning. The shower stopped. She stepped out, toweled off, wrapped the towel around her hair, and came back into the bedroom. She quickly dressed and got her things together. And just like that, headed for the door. Then she stopped, turned back and spoke.
“Listen, kid, you’re never gonna forget what just happened. It was special. What a fucking hell of a first time. It isn’t always gonna be like that. Sometimes it’s gonna stink. Sometimes you won’t be able to get hard. Sometimes she won’t come. Sometimes it will feel like she’s just going through the motions, giving you what you want, and ‘just get it over with, please?’. Sometimes the two of you just won’t be on the same planet. Sometimes…” her voice just trailed off and her eyes seemed to be far away.
“Look. Your uncle paid me two-hundred bucks for this. He told me to teach you a few things, okay? You’ll be fine. You’re terrific. Just remember, girls are a treasure. They break. Treat them that way. Treat them like they’re special. Don’t treat them like dirt. Some guys treat girls like dirt. And please, stay away from hookers. You’ll never get another roll with a hooker like this one. Don’t spoil the memory.”
Then she opened her purse, took something out and threw it on the dresser. It was two brand-new hundred-dollar bills. “This is for you. I don’t want money for this one. Just don’t tell Sid. Keep the money. And PLEASE, don’t tell Harvey. Some day, when you’re older, you know, like, much older, ask him to tell you about Crystal. No last name necessary. He’ll know. And, it’s not what you think. I owe Harvey.”
“And take a shower before you go back to work.”
And then she turned and left.
He never saw her again. His father, Harvey, died three years later, before he graduated from college. He never got to ask him about Crystal. He never found out what she was talking about that day. It remains a mystery even now, almost forty years later. But for the rest of his life, he remembered what she had said. Girls are a treasure. Treat them like they’re special.
The End
My New Boyfriend
I stare at my empty wine glass, blinking back tears, and the bartender comes over to the end of the bar and raises an eyebrow at me.
“Another, please.”
He pours me more Merlot and leaves me to sit there, brooding at being dumped by my boyfriend, Charley. OK, my EX-boyfriend. I’m still numb over that “ex-” tacked on the front – it doesn’t seem real yet, though the wine is helping. A man who looks way too much like Charley for comfort enters the uncrowded hotel bar, lightly populated on this Tuesday night. He glances over at me, takes a few steps in my direction, then sees what must be a hostile look on my face and veers off, apparently concluding the same thing the bartender did an hour ago – best to give me some space tonight.
I feel bad about taking it out on the poor guy, not his fault, but I SO don’t want to be around anyone tonight who looks remotely like my ex.
I sip my wine in silence.
I hear steps behind me, then a tall man with rugged good looks and green eyes leans against the railing near me and takes a swig of microbrew beer. “Bad night?”
He’s cute, and looks nothing at all like Charley, so I nod in assent.
“Want to talk about it?”
I look at him. His forehead is crinkled with concern and he seems like a decent sort. Ah, might as well tell someone, let it all out. “Broke up with my boyfriend tonight.”
He takes another swig and nods, and then waits for me to go on, not pushing, clearly sensing my mood.
I sip the wine, feel the comforting glow as it goes down my throat. “Said he’s in love with the person who USED to be my best friend, been sleeping with her for a month now, but can we pleeease be friends? As if.”
“Men,” he says in a high, fake-feminine voice. “They’re SUCH pigs.” His eyes twinkle at me.
I stare into his eyes, wondering if he’s being mean and mocking me, but I see only concern in his wide open pupils. He’s just trying to cheer me up, I conclude, nothing malicious.
I think I like him.
***
Twenty minutes later, I’ve told my new friend, Steve, the whole story, with him mostly listening and let me talk. I sip the last of my glass of wine. “Thanks. Appreciate having you listen to all this rubbish.”
“No problem,” Steve says. He looks down at his beer for a long moment, like he’s mulling over whether to say what’s on his mind or keep quiet, then his eyes stare into mine. “Look, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but it sounds like you need some rebound sex tonight.”
Damn. I thought he was interested in me. All he wants is my body. I shoot him a dirty look. “And I suppose, out of the generosity of your heart, you’re willing to sacrifice and do me this great favor.”
“No, I was referring to one of the other fine gentlemen here.” Steve sweeps his hand at all the scruffy-looking men in the bar. “Like that guy in his eighties over there. LATE eighties. Or the stud at the other end of the bar who’s been winking at you – now that’s one styling polyester leisure suit, or at least I’m sure it was when he bought it back in the seventies. And you must be turned on by the redneck in the John Deere cap, wearing what must be one of the cleaner T-shirts in his wardrobe. I mean, what woman isn’t hot for a guy wearing a shirt with a picture of an elk on it? Oh, and check out –”
I laugh. “OK, let’s stipulate for the sake of argument that you’re the best looking man in this godforsaken bar. Have I said ANYTHING that would indicate that I’m some sort of tramp who jumps into bed right after breaking up with my boyfriend?”
He gives me an oddly intense look with those green eyes, then in a husky voice says, “No, I think you’re a sweet, beautiful, charming woman. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He tentatively touches my forearm. “I just thought you didn’t want to be alone tonight. Can you please forgive me for my rudeness?”
His hand is hot, and I feel a tingle in my pussy from his gentle words, and from the softness and warmth of his skin against mine. My face feels flushed. The pupils of his eyes are wide open, just a fringe of green iris around the edges, and the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. Our eyes lock.
“You’re blushing,” Steve says softly.
I feel my panties getting damp, and my head is buzzing from all the wine. He’s right. I don’t want to be alone tonight.
Steve leans in close, and I don’t move away as he huskily whispers in my ear, “I have a bottle of wine in my hotel room upstairs. We can go and talk a bit more. I promise I won’t take advantage of you. I respect you.”
It feels so good, his hot breath in my ear, and my pussy is telling me yes, go with him. I can’t believe how turned on I am by the sound of his deep, masculine voice whispering this invitation.
Steve looks at me with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes. He slides his hand up my forearm a bit, leaving a trail of warmth, then his soft lips gently kiss my cheek.
I’m startled to hear my own voice whisper back, “OK, let’s go.”
It feels unreal. Why did I just agree to this?
Steve throws money for the drinks on the bar. We walk out toward the hotel lobby and the waiting elevators.
Inside the empty elevator, once the door closes and he’s punched the button for his floor, Steve steps behind me and presses himself against my back. My first reaction is to step away, but it feels good to have his stiffening cock pressed against my buns, and then he starts planting soft kisses on my neck. Shivers run down my spine. I close my eyes and moan softly.
Steve nibbles on an earlobe and murmurs into my ear, “Like it?”
I feel a bit shy, but it feels so good to have his cock pressed against my ass and his soft lips on my neck that I can’t help wiggling my ass against his stiff pole. The elevator door dings and opens, and Steve puts an arm around my waist and walks me the few steps to his room. It feels surreal and yet somehow completely natural to have this stranger’s arm around me.
Continue next page ……..
He slides the keycard into the slot, and then we’re inside a nice hotel room, with marble floors and tasteful, understated furnishings. The door clicks shut, and Steve turns and touches my face, his hand slowly stroking my cheek, then sliding across my lips.
I shouldn’t let this stranger I met in a bar do this to me. How did he talk me into coming to his room? I should leave …
But my pussy has other ideas. My panties are soaked by now, and I feel a wave of lust sweep through my insides as the finger Steve is running across my lips stops and presses in, inviting me to open for him. I part my lips, and his finger slowly pushes into my mouth. “Suck on it,” Steve says. “Lick it.” I do so, dazed that I’m letting someone I barely know do such an intimate thing to my mouth, and getting turned on despite myself by the promise implied by this act.
Steve pulls his finger out, then swiftly leans in and replaces it with his tongue. I let him press his body into mine as his tongue thrusts deep into my waiting mouth, and I give in to the moment, knowing now what else he wants to put in my mouth, and wanting it. Steve takes me in his arms and walks me backward, kissing me passionately all the while. The backs of my legs hit the bed, and Steve releases me so that I fall backward and down. I catch my fall, and suddenly I’m sitting on the edge of the bed with his tented pants inches from my lips.
“You want to please me,” Steve says. It is not a question. I lick my lips nervously, and realize as I’m doing it what that implies. Steve unzips his slacks and takes his hard cock out. It is almost touching my lips. I look up into his eyes, and he scoots a little closer so his dick touches my lips, lubricating them with his precum. “Lick the tip,” he says, and I hesitantly stick my tongue out and lick his piss slit. He groans, and shoves the cockhead between my waiting lips. Oh god, it feels so good to have this silky hot flesh enter my mouth. I run my tongue along the underside, marveling at the texture, and Steve breathes faster and says, “Take it. Take it deep in your cunt mouth.” Startled by the dirty sexy words, I look into his eyes as he pushes his hard shaft deeper and deeper. I try not to gag. “Relax your throat, my sexy little bitch. Take my shaft all the way down. Oh, that’s a good girl. Look at you blush, you tart. Do you like having your man’s cockhead shoved deep inside your slutty mouth?”
And god help me, I nod my head yes. Yes, I am his slutty little cocksucker, and I’m loving it, having his dick in my mouth. I can’t believe I’m letting him do this dirty exciting thing to my mouth, and talk so boldly to me, but I need this. I need a man tonight. My throat relaxes, and he’s all the way in, his balls touching my chin and his musky pubic hair nestled again my nose.
Steve puts his hands on the back of my head, and now he’s fucking my face, shoving his cock in and out of my mouth, faster and faster. I feel a little moment of panic mixed with thrill, wondering if he’s planning to cum in my mouth, and then he pulls out. I gasp for air, my breathing rapid with desire.
Steve kneels and lifts my dress, exposing my soaking panties. “Lift your slutty, sexy hips,” he says. I pause, and he slaps the side of my ass. “Lift up, I said.”
I comply, and he slides my panties off and tosses them aside. My clit is tingling, and in one quick move he kneels and gives it a lick. “Aaaah,” I say, and his tongue is slithering over my cunt lips and then circling my clit, teasing it. “Ohmygod, don’t stop.” I close my eyes in ecstasy, and suddenly I feel a coolness between my cheeks.
I open my eyes, startled, as his moistened finger slides down my crack and starts to circle my puckered hole. “What the –” I start to say, but then his finger is touching my puckered hole. I should slap him for touching me in such a private spot, or stand up and leave, but it feels so dirty and erotic having him touch me there while his lips start kissing up my flat belly. Soon he’s squeezing a breast, his tongue circling my hard nipple. He’s inserted his index finger into my wet pussy and is slowly fingerfucking it, while his middle finger circles my rosebud in rhythm with the tongue circling my nipple. “Oh,” I say. “Don’t stop. Oh, please, lick my pussy again.” I close my eyes, my head buzzing from all the wine, and I gasp with pleasure as Steve’s tongue slides back down my tummy and starts licking my clit.
I open my eyes and Steve is staring at me while licking me, and I can’t help it, my hips rise up to fuck his face. When my hips drop back down the tip of his finger gets pushed inside my ass. It hurts a bit, and I grunt.
“Sorry,” he says, and slips his finger back out. I can feel my orgasm building. I clutch the hair on the back of his head and push his face into my bucking hips. His tongue keeps touching my sensitive clit, and I moan, “Oh god, I’m cumming. Aaaahh. AAAH.”
I thrash my hips around, riding the wave, and then it subsides and I lie there on the bed, panting for air. Steve climbs on top of me, and I part my legs for him. His hard cock is touching my pussy lips while I stare at the handsome face of the man who has given me such pleasure. He leans forward and kisses me. Our tongues slide together, and I can taste my own pussy juices. Steve’s prick is sliding up and down my wet pussy lips, begging for permission to enter. He breaks our kiss and says, “I want to fuck you. But you’re such a good girl, like you said in the bar. I wouldn’t want to sully the honor of such a virtuous girl.” He grins at me.
My face is on fire from blushing, but I want it, I want him inside me, so I nod my head. “Yes. You can.”
“Say it,” he demands. “Or I’ll leave. Say what you want me to do to you.”
“I want you inside me.”
“Not like that. Say it like the nasty, sexy woman you are.”
“Oh, please. Please fuck me. Fuck my pussy.”
“That’s better.” Steve’s mouth descends back onto mine, and as our tongues dance and dart together, he pulls my legs up with his strong arms. My legs are over his shoulders, and I’m helpless to stop him even if I wanted to, and I can’t believe I’m letting a man I’ve only known for an hour do this to me. But it want it. I want him. “Look in my eyes,” he says. “I want to see your startled look as my cock enters your tight little pussy.” He slides inside my sopping wet cunt, and I gasp with pleasure. “Take my cockhead inside. Oh, oh, there. Aaaaah.”
He’s all the way inside me, his balls touching my ass cheeks, our pubic hair mingling. “You like my dick buried in your sweet pussy?”
I nod. “Oh, god yes.”
He start to slowly fuck me, in and out. “You ready to get fucked hard? Tell me you love it. Tell me you want to be my dirty little bitch.”
I stare into his excited eyes. “I love being your dirty bitch. Fuck my pussy. Fuck it with your hard cock.”
Steve moans, and starts to slowly pick up the pace, until he’s fucking me as hard and fast as he can. It’s feeling good, I can feel a post-orgasm tingle building, and so I push my hips up to help him fuck me. He’s panting and sweating and fucking me fast and furious now, and he slaps the side of my ass and calls me his sweet little bitch, tells me he loves fucking my cunt.
“Say it,” he demands. “What are you?”
“I’m your slutty little whore,” I admit.
And that sets Steve off, and he thrusts deep into me. “I’m cumming. Take it, my sweet bitch. Take it. Aaaargh!” He pumps a few more times and then collapses on me, gasping for breath.
I lay there with this lovely stranger lying on top of me, his cock buried deep inside my pussy, his cum inside me, and I can’t believe it.
I can’t believe I love being fucked by someone I just met.
***
We cuddle together afterward, whispering about how good it was, and then Steve falls asleep, spooned up to my back. I lay drowsily in his arms, his cum still inside me, and wonder what will happen in the morning.
I love rebound sex.
The End
Milk Bar
I went into my local milk bar last week for some milk and bread. It was the morning after a big night out and because I was feeling a bit horny, I decided to pick up an x-rated magazine for some light reading. It was one I hadn’t seen before, ‘Easy Europeans’ or something similar. When I got to the counter the owner’s wife Jenny was serving, which left me a little red-faced when she scanned the price on the mag.
She is probably only my age, mid-30’s, Vietnamese, but unlike most South-East Asian women, she has a set of tits on her to make any guy look twice, and always wears a loose top to give them room to roam. She looked at me with a fleeting smile then held the magazine up to her face.
‘What you like about European woman?’
I stuttered out a response about dark haired women when she replied,
‘I’ve got dark hair, you want to fuck me?’
I didn’t even get the chance to answer as she walked out from behind the counter, locked the front door and then walked back towards me. She spotted the already hard cock in my shorts and started rubbing it up straight away.
‘Looks like you like Asian woman as well.’
I started to slide her top off her shoulders to get a good view of those smooth tits. Her nipples, a nice dark brown colour, were standing out about 2cm and ready to be teased. I grabbed hold of both breasts and started to tweak her nipples between my fingers.
‘Ooh, your rough hands feel so much better than my husbands,’ she sighed. She brought her lips to mine, searching out my tongue with hers, trying to keep the same rhythm of her hand rubbing my rock hard cock. She pulled away from me and slowly dropped to her knees, pulling my shorts down as she went down.
I leant back on the shop counter as she took my penis into her mouth, rolling her tongue around the head and then up and down the side of it. Finally, with a kiss, she enveloped the whole thing in her mouth, taking it deep inside her throat. She came back up, gasping for air, saliva dripping from my cock to her lips. I couldn’t believe I was getting a blowjob right here against the counter of my local shop. And not just any blowjob, this was an A-grade performance.
After a couple of minutes, Jenny started wanking me while she sucked on my balls, licking from the base of the scrotum back up to the tip of my cock. I was not far off shooting my wad when she stood up again and pulled her top off and undid her skirt to give me a full view of her tight little body. Her vagina was completely shaved, all bar a little patch on top. ‘Come on, now I want you to fuck me,’ Jenny said as she slowly raised herself onto the ice-cream fridge.
I couldn’t wait to plunge my full 8 inches into her pussy but first I wanted to get a nice taste of her juices. I knelt down in front of her and started to slowly caress her clit as I lapped at her moist pussy. She had one of the pinkest cunts I had ever seen, with lips that looked like she could fly away if they started flapping. Her clit was as erect as her nipples and seemed three times as big. Straight away she let out small moans from my touch, one of her hands holding my head in place while the other one played with her tits. At one point she even pushed one of her tits up to her mouth to suck on the nipple while I tongued at her dripping wet pussy. ‘Faster, lick it faster.’ She ordered as my tongue worked feverishly on her cunt.
As I started to concentrate on her clit with my tongue, I probed her cunt with first one, then two fingers, driving them into her deeper with every push. ‘Oh god, I can’t wait for your cock inside me.’ Jenny said. Her body was writhing on top of the fridge, her moans getting deeper and more intense. She was pleading with me now to fuck her, but there was one more thing I wanted before I would give her what she wanted. I lifted her legs up over my shoulders and went in search of her little bud of an asshole. With her pussy juices on my fingers, I lubricated the outside before using my tongue to probe open her ass slightly. From my first tongue stroke, Jenny went crazy, bucking her hips, squeezing her thighs around my head, releasing a huge orgasm.
‘Oh fuck, that’s it. I’m coming!’ she screamed, ‘Lick my ass, oh fuck that feels good.’
Slowly now, her asshole responded, easing itself open little by little. I took my fingers from her juicy pussy and worked my index finger a bit at a time into her anus. Jenny let out a huge scream, asking me to fuck her before she came again. I decide that the time was right, I stood up and got her to suck on my cock again before laying her back down then easing my aching cock between her thighs and into her wet vagina. I began to fuck her with deep penetrating thrusts and felt the walls of her cunt contract around my cock.
As I continued to hump her I could feel she was close to another orgasm, only this time I was going to make sure I joined her. ‘Oh come on, fuck…fuck me,’ she shrieked, her body shuddering violently as her orgasm ran through her body. This time though I felt my own orgasm coming on, I pulled out of her cunt just in time for my spunk to fly all over her stomach and tits. I could not remember the last time I had shot so much spunk, creamy and white like I was a teenage boy again. I looked down at her body as she was wiping it into her tits and then drew her fingers to her mouth to taste my own juices.
She sat up and leaned forward to lick the last remaining drips off the head of my cock, lapping up any leftovers you might say. She quickly got up, put her skirt back on and pulled her top back over her head. As she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek she said, ‘Are you sure you still want to wank over European women?’
I pulled my pants back on and grabbed my shopping. ‘No, but I’ll still take the mag, just to remember you…but I’m sure I’ll be back for some more milk very soon,’ I said as I made my way towards the door. As I opened the door Jenny’s 20-year-old stepdaughter got out of her car out the front. Maybe I’ll come back quicker than I need to, I thought to myself as I held the door open for her to go in to the shop.
The End
Fuck Me Hard
I knew it was going to be an interesting night when our friends started a conversation about current good reads, and some s & m erotica came up.
We were speaking of fantasy books, then supernatural stories, which of course led the way to Anne Rice, when it so happened someone mentioned her Sleeping Beauty trilogy. Of course, having read all three, it got me squirming to my core, and for the rest of the night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
They left early, around 9:30, and he and I were left alone. I was so aroused, I could feel my wetness soaking my panties. I went online, looked at some sites, and although they helped, it only brought more of a flush to my face. I looked over at him, sprawled on the couch, and of course, by this point he was mostly naked, as was I save for my tank top and thong.
He was almost hard; erect, but not fully so. I crawled over to him, and from between his legs I looked up and asked “may I lick you Sir?” He nodded, and I took him all in my mouth, to the point where I gagged on him repeatedly. I let his length withdraw almost completely, and then clamped my lips firmly around his tip, swirling my tongue as if his cock were a popsicle, alternating between sucking hard, and teasing flickers of my tongue. As I did this, he grabbed himself and started pumping the rest of his length as I suckled on the head of his cock, slowly rubbing and caressing his balls. My hand moved down, still keeping my eyes on his, sucking hard, I pushed a finger against him, slowly pushing it in, feeling him open around it. I bobbed my head now, more frantically, my tongue and finger both working away at sensitive spots. I withdrew my mouth, and started telling him how I wanted him to cum so hard, and with more pressure of my finger, he exploded all over his chest. He moaned with the orgasm, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps…. I retrieved something for him to clean up with, and asked innocently if that’s all the play he wanted tonight. He told me to be patient, that I would get mine soon enough.
I went back to the computer, and he switched on the tv, and we were content for a small while to relax. But I couldn’t stop thinking about pain, bondage, and hard fucking. I kept thinking about the books, about the hall of punishment, where naughty girls were strung up, bound and exposed, and teased and fucked until they couldn’t cum anymore…. the thought of it was more then I could bare.
I was so flushed I felt dizzy, and I crawled back to him, nuzzled against his chest, and told him what I craved. I wanted, needed him to tie me tightly, gag me, shove something in me, and then let me suffer alone for a while. I rubbed myself against him, telling him I needed pain and control so badly. He rolled me on to the floor, onto my back, and told me that I would be a good slut, and collect all I wanted and have it ready for him, with one condition: I was to cum ONLY from having my tits pinched and tortured right then and there. I agreed.
He pulled my plain white tank top down over my tits, my nipples already alert, ready for his touch. Knowing how sensitively I react to having my nipples twisted and pulled, he went to work without mercy, until i was either in screaming agony, or screaming ecstasy, and my pussy shuddered, wanting to be filled. I lay there gasping. He whispered in my ear to go prepare my toys for him.
Perhaps I was over eager, but letting me choose my torture proved that I only made things worse for my poor body, as I salivated over my 10" glass dildo, my nipple clamps, my hog-tie cuffs (which I attached to both wrists and ankles) my ball gag, and the paddle. I assumed my position (face down, ass up) on the bed, and called to my Master that I was ready for him.
He entered, and swiftly had my pussy filled. He did not remove my thong, only shoved it aside as my toy entered me, and then fixed it so that my toy could not slip out as my thong held it in place. My hands and ankles were connected, and when he pulled down my tank top, my nipples were clamped (which, since I was on my stomach, had my full weight pressing on my already sore tits). Lastly, he had my lips wrapped around the ball gag and positioned me in the middle of the bed. He slapped my bare ass a few times, before turning off the lights, leaving me whimpering and squirming on the bed for him.
What felt like an hour later, with my tits aching, my pussy BEGGING to be fucked, and saliva running down my chin, I heard the door open. He came over to the bed, and I felt his weight upon it. I turned my head to look at him, but he savagely gripped my hair and shoved my face down, and commanded me not to look at him. I whimpered in response, and stayed still and mostly silent. He began to run the paddle over my body, running it between my legs, over my ass, up my back, only to bring it down sharply on my exposed ass. He randomly spanked me, and started pumping my dildo in and out of me, working me up to climax, which I had been so close to all along. I got almost to the brink when he stopped. I could hear a ‘click’, and a wet sound. I tried my best to not turn and see what he had in his hands, but with the lights out, I don’t think I would have been able to make out the next toy he was about to use on me anyways.
I understood as soon as he pressed the lubed up tip of the butt plug against me. I had been able to take this one before, but I had been pretty fussy, as I’m pretty much an anal virgin. But being bound so completely, without even being able to voice my fears, I simply raised my ass for him, and he slowly pushed it in, all the way in, until I moaned with what he knew was renewed arousal.
He told me he was pleased I took it so well, and began pumping both the dildo and plug in and out of me, making lewd comments about how I had both my holes filled. I moaned and gasped and tried to control myself, and manage to choke out from behind my gag a request for permission to cum for him. He told me to cum as hard as I could. He pumped them harder into me, and I felt my ass and pussy so completely full and used, I shuddered and slumped on the bed, gasping after such a release. Without warning, he savagely ripped out the dildo, and got behind me, thrusting all the way into my sopping cunt, and fucked me, telling me I’m his whore, his play cunt, his toy to fuck however he wants. Unable to move even if I wanted too, I moaned loudly into my gag, feeling my tits rub against the bed, the clips pulling cruelly on my nipples. He fucked me until I clamped down around his cock, shuddering violently. I lay there, regaining myself, when he commanded I move lower down on the bed.
It felt near impossible, as even if I could shift being hogtied, my tits rubbed too hard against the mattress, but he spurred me on with more blows to my ass. I managed it, and he shifted so that once again, I was on my stomach, but this time, replacing my toy in my cunt, and removing my gag, he shoved his cock down my throat. This angle allowed me to take more of him, and what with his hands at my cunt again, rubbing my clit, pressing the plug deeper in me, and grabbing my tits, I was vulnerable and useable, and I came with his cock deep in my throat.
At this point, he undid my feet from the hogtie, and told me to get on his cock. I slowly but surely got on my knees, and straddled him, He removed my toy, and plunged himself in me. My hands still bound behind me, the gag around my throat, plug still firmly in place in my ass and clips dangling from my chest, he thrust up into me without mercy. I began to beg that the clips were too much, and in one painful motion, he ripped them off me, only to replace the vise grip of he clamps with his own two hands. He mashed my tits, groping me roughly as I rode his cock to yet another climax. He told me if I could cum two more times for him, he would let me ride him with my vibrator on my clit. I cum the hardest when I grind my pussy against my vibe while riding him. I oblige him, grinding against him, moaning, whimpering, gasping with the sensations, and he reaches for it. I grind against him, feeling my ass and cunt full, both in me so deep, and my clit finally rewarded with the steady buzz of the vibe, and my Master thrusting up into my used body, I cum magnificently for him, and collapse beside him. He undoes my hands, and tells me to rub myself off while he removes my butt plug to rub my ass. I do, and he sprays his cum all over my tits and stomach, He too collapses besides me, and we pant silently. My body burns from the pain and the pleasure and the vulnerability and from the excitement of being so used. I clean him up, and we kiss gently.
I love nights when we have such inspirations…
The End
The Papergirl
Saturday,11:00 am. I was having a shower trying to get rid of a rather nasty hangover when the damn doorbell rang. Loud. Damn near made my head bust. Tried to ignore it but some shit kept pushing the bell. Shelly, my wife, works Saturdays so I had to answer the friggin’ thing myself. Turned the shower off, grabbed a towel, held it round my waist and stumbled down the stairs, dripping.
“OK, OK. I’m coming.” Every ring set off explosions in my poor head.
Opened the door.
“What is it?” Young girl standing there. Red hair, freckle face. Crisp white cotton blouse, red pleated skirt, running shoes. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me dripping wet, bleary eyed. The towel wasn’t the best cover up.
“C-c-collecting for the p-p-paper, s-sir.” She stammered. Sounded a bit confused. No wonder, my towel exposed me up to the hip but what was the big deal, my front was covered. “$4 sir.”
“Don’t you usually collect from my wife in the evening?”
“M-mom says not on s-s-school d-days anym-m-more. So I’m c-c-collecting t-t-today. S-she s-s-says if I f-f-fail again I’ll ha-ha-have to do p-p-papers all my life.” Quite a stammer. She was trying not to look at me but her eyes kept glancing at the towel.
“OK, wait a minute.” Noticed a note on the table. Said pay for paper. There was 4 ones. Gave her the money. Watched her leave. Looked a bit young for final year of high school.
She got on her bike and seemed to whisper excitedly to her friend on the other bike. They both glanced back at where I stood. I ducked back inside.
Up in the shower again, hangover still pounding, I thought of the surprise I gave the girl with the towel. My cock got hard so I jerked off. Nice start to the day.
After Shelly came home we had some beer. I mentioned the papergirl. Shelly passed me another beer and laughed.
“Next time show her your 45 yr. old butt. Her name’s Annie. Not too bright, always stammers. Looks young but she had her 18th birthday a couple months ago. The other kid was probably Priya. From India or Pakistan or someplace. Younger than Annie but they’re in the same class cause Annie failed last year. Nice kid but she’s not too bright either. Actually, the two together aren’t bright enough to light up this room. I thought of introducing Annie to Brucie next door, he needs a girlfriend but I don’t think she’d have any idea what to do with a boyfriend.” Shelly always went on and on. Boring. We had some more beer, Shelly pretended to be a papergirl and we had a quick fuck before passing out. Next day I had another mother of a hangover.
Next Saturday I was just toweling off and casually rubbing my cock. Hangover wasn’t so bad this time. Doorbell rang. Wrapped the towel around me though my cock pushed it out a bit. Wandered downstairs, opened the door. Papergirl again. Hmm. Hair in pigtails. Hadn’t noticed last time. Wearing yellow tanktop and blue pleated skirt this time. Her eyes went wide again. Noticed the bulge in the towel maybe? Hope so.
“C-c-collecting for the p-p-paper, s-sir.” She stammered as usual. “$4 sir.” I noticed her friend, brown girl, (Priya?) standing at the foot of the steps wearing a red t-shirt and blue shorts. Nice brown legs. Hair seemed to be pleated in a ponytail like a typical Hindi.
“OK, wait a minute.”
I turned to get the money from the table and the towel “accidentally” slipped. Hastily re-arranged it but they got a good eyeful of my butt. I know ‘cause there were two sets of stifled giggles. Took a fiver from the table and gave it to her.
“H-h-here’s your ch-change, s-sir.” She fumbled in her bag for change and I noticed the brown one hiding something behind her back while stifling more giggles. Annie’s face seemed to have taken on a bit of a flush.
Shut the door, peeked out the curtain and watched them leave. They kept glancing back at the house obviously giggling. Priya was showing Annie something on her cell phone while glancing at my door. Jeez! She took a picture of my ass!
Went back upstairs to get dressed. Stopped in the bathroom to jerk off while picturing the brown girl’s legs and Annie’s red pigtails. Another nice start to a weekend.
Later, Shelly came home so we had some beer and a couple of joints. I told her Priya got a picture of my butt. She thought that was hysterical.
“Guess they like your sorry old ass. Next week invite them in for milk and cookies. Show them the full monty. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe you’ll get two cherries. One of them brown! That’d be kind of like a cappuccino cherry?”
“You’re making me nervous now. Where do you get these ideas anyway?”
“Oh come on. It sounds like fun. I don’t mind if you snack on some cherries. Long as you give me a good fuck after. Besides you can video it for me. Maybe we can post it somewhere? OK??” Shelly was getting a bit high. But ok.
“OK, I’ll make some’special brownies’for them to snack on. Maybe some orange juice too with a bit of vodka. You can see me starring in my own movie with them as supporting actresses.”
We had some more beer and another joint and had a quick fuck before passing out. I had verrry interesting dreams that night. I looked forward to helping two young actresses with their film debut!! I may be 45 but I’ll still try anything.
Annie was 18 and Priya younger. I worried about Priya’s age. Could be trouble. Still I figured they being young and not very smart to boot they would be easy to con.
I was prepared. I spiked some orange juice with vodka and Shelly baked some special hash brownies. I figured they would get high from either the booze or the hash. I just had to get them to come in and have a drink or bite.
I hid 3 camcorders in the living room to catch all possible angles.
The bell rang right on schedule. They might be dumb but they were punctual.
I let go of my cock which I had been rubbing in anticipation and put on a terry robe so they wouldn’t be too scared to come in.
I opened the door wide and with a big smile said:
“Morning Annie. How are you today?” Annie was well-dressed in a white, silky blouse and red pleated skirt. She wore black dress shoes today and her bicycle was nowhere in sight.
The usual response:
“C-c-collecting for the p-p-paper, s-sir.” She stammered in her usual manner. “$4 sir.” Her friend, Priya waited on the sidewalk by the gate wearing a bright green saree with a golden colored scarf. Why all dressed up today?
“Oh, of course, I’ll get you the money in a minute. How come the two of you are all dressed up today.” I tried to sound interested, which I wasn’t but I was having trouble concocting a plausible reason to invite them in.
“We’re ce-ce-celebra-brating. It’s P-P-Priya’s birthday.”
“Really, how old is she?” This perked my interest.
“P-P-Priya’s j-j-just tur-turned 18, same as me!! Her m-m-mom g-g-gave her $10. We’re go-go-going to b-b-uy lunch.” She looked very happy. Good no age worry. A birthday lunch huh? I had my opening.
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