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Taming of the Swain

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“This is very vanilla,” said Adrien as he shook his head and stated his dull opinion. He adjusted his wide rimmed glasses and placed his hands on his hip inside his open blazer. The conference room went silent. Everybody looked tormented and some looked like they had not slept in days.

“I am looking to impress her! Not put her to sleep guys! You don’t seem to understand the gravity of her visit.” he said frustrated.

This was the third review of the corporate presentation that was prepared and this too failed to satisfy Adrien.

Adrien was the COO of Eminence Designs. He was an ivy league graduate and one of the best leaders the company had seen. His opinions were always revered, and his economic and market predictions were sought after. So, when Adrien said, “it doesn’t impress”, it really didn’t impress.

Chris was standing at the corner of the conference room silently absorbing what was happening in the meeting and he seemed really puzzled. He didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. In his 6 months in Eminence Designs as an intern he had never seen Adrien so worked up about a visit. Chris knew that an investor was visiting them, but he had no idea it was such a big deal. He kept looking at Adrien silently, trying to gauge how important this visit was for the company.

“Emily, please cancel all my meetings for today. We will need to fix this presentation. We have just two more days before Freya visits us,” said Adrien irritated.

Everybody left the room other than a handful of people who’s next few days were going to be messed up. Chris left the room following Emily, trying to chat with her and understand what was happening inside.

Emily sat down at her desk trying to complete her newly assigned task when Chris approached her and smiled at her. Emily looked up at Chris and blushed. Chris was a handsome man with the perfect chocolate boy body. He had an above average height and a perfectly toned body, not too broad shoulders and toned hands. He always pulled up his sleeves halfway showing off his strong hands and was always crisp in his appearance. He had a pleasant face and when he smiled he got cute dimples on his cheeks just beside his irresistible lips. He knew he was handsome, and he would sometimes use it to his advantage. Not only that, he was one of the smartest in his class and he had chosen to work for Eminence Designs despite the other offers he had, as he had a hunger for learning and he felt this internship would set him up on a great career path.

Emily had a huge crush on Chris, and he knew it. During his internship, Chris had turned his charm on Emily and pulled out information and gossip from her which helped him understand the power dynamics in his office and had also become a favorite among the mid management folks at Eminence Designs.

“What’s up beautiful?” he said as he flashed his irresistible smile at Emily. Emily tried hard not to get carried away and said, “Not now Chris. I really need to get this done asap.”

“Let me help you.”

Saying this he walked across to Emily’s side and placed his hand over her hand which was operating the mouse. Emily loved the move and could smell his musky cologne. She was getting shivers down her spine and was getting intoxicated. He kept moving the mouse while holding her hand and after a few clicks and a few minutes later, he lifted up his hand breaking off Emily from her daydream.

“There. Done! And you are welcome,” said Chris and winked at her.

“Thank you Chris. Tell me how I may help you,” said Emily tucking her stray strand of hair behind her left ear.

“Why don’t i take you out for a quick coffee?”

“I can’t leave my desk. I am really busy”

“I think you can take a 15 min break. Come on.. “

He bent down, moving close to Emily’s face and whispered ” And it’s not like your boss is going to notice you are gone.”

He said raising his eyebrows and pointing towards the conference room with his index finger to emphasize that Adrien was busy.

Emily followed Chris’s eyes and peeped into the conference room. Her boss did seem really busy.

She said “Ok. May be just for a few minutes,” and stood up from her chair.

Chris and Emily took the elevator to the coffee shop which was on the top floor and sat down at a table after picking up their coffee at the counter. Chris was complimenting her looks all the while and Emily couldn’t stop blushing.

After settling down Emily tried to control her laughter, looked into Chris’s eyes and asked him “So.. what do you need from me mister?”

Chris smiled and got straight to the point. “Who is this tycoon visiting us? I have never seen Adrien so worked up. What exactly is up?”

Emily smiled and said, “I knew your quick little help had something coming for me.”

She took a pause and said, “Ok. Freya! Freya Arquette. She is one among the top 50 most wealthy and most powerful women in the world. She is one of our investors and not just that, the suriyeli porno most influential member is the World Business Circle. She is a Business powerhouse and is the most sought-after women in entire of Europe. After chasing her and following up with her office for the millionth time in the last two years, she is finally visiting us. IT IS A HUGE Deal! Adrien wants to get Freya’s attention and her backing on our new product line, and he will not leave any stone unturned.”

“Interesting! I need to find…” started Chris when he was interrupted by Emily’s phone ringing.

She picked it up and said “I gotta go. You sit down and finish your coffee. Bye.” and hurried away.

Chris sat there intrigued about this fantasy figure. He made a mental note to learn more about Freya and sipped on his coffee. He took out his phone and started his mini research. What he found in the next few minutes blew him away. He knew he had to use this situation and become visible to Freya and that would open up all the desirable doors for him. He took one last sip of coffee and grinned as he brewed up an idea in his mind. He picked up his phone and walked briskly to the elevator.

He headed straight to the conference room and as Emily saw what he was up to, she tried to stop him, but it was too late. He entered the conference room, interrupted the meeting and closed the door behind him. Emily was shocked and kept staring through the glass doors as to how pissed Adrien would be for Chris’s unprofessional behavior. She could see Adrien’s face turn red with anger.

Chris did not waste a single minute. Emily saw Chris go up to the whiteboard and quickly make a drawing, his lips kept moving without a single ounce of fear. Emily knew Adrien is going to blast on him any minute now. But as she kept looking, she was surprised at how Adrien’s face changed. His anger turned into interest and then into a faint smile which quickly turned into a proud smile. He walked ahead, shook Chris’s hand and patted him on his shoulder, turned towards the rest of the members and started moving his lips. Chris was smiling too, proudly and confidently showing off his teeth and his cute dimples. Emily knew, he had played his charm and intelligence again.


The day finally came when Freya was to arrive. The entire office sparkled and shined like it was ready for the arrival of a goddess. Adrien had an almost skipping pace in his walk and the entire office eagerly expected the guest. Freya was to arrive at 10am and Adrien was standing in front of elevator since 9.55am almost sweating. The clock struck 10 and the elevator door opened as if by divine intervention and there she was.

A stunning lady, in a black formal dress and stilettos. Cascading honey colored hair, golden colored skin, big bold blue eyes. When she looked at you, you would almost feel her sight boring into you. The moment she took the first step on the floor, it felt like all the lights dimmed and she was the only source of light, so radiant! Everything seemed to slow down, everybody faded into the background and she was the only focus of hundreds of eyes.

Chris was gaping with his mouth almost open. He felt a wave of wind brush through him. He had never felt so weak ever. He quickly checked himself and stood straight.

Adrien stepped forward and greeted her with a huge smile, a big bouquet and a strong handshake. “Welcome Ms. Arquette. It’s a pleasure to have you with us today!”

Freya smiled back radiantly, received the bouquet and passed it on to her assistant and said “Thank you Adrien. How are you doing?”

Chris could not take his eyes off her. He could not register anything that happened then. When he came back to his senses, he saw that the party has already moved way forward walking swiftly behind Ms. Arquette. He hurried behind them.

The main team went inside the conference room , exchanged pleasantries and introductions. Freya walked by shaking each members’ hand. When Adrien introduced Chris, he opened his mouth, but no voice came out. He stammered and said “N…niice to meet you Mm.. Ms. Arquette!” Freya checked him out from top to bottom shook his hand and walked away.

During the first break, Chris rushed to the washroom. He splashed water on his face, and looked in the mirror, took a deep breath and said to himself ‘What the fuck is wrong with me??!!”, wiped his face with a hand towel, straightened his tie and walked back to the conference room.

After the first few hours in the conference room, Emily kept peeping inside the conference room, trying to gauge how the meeting was going and she saw Freya’s stone face. Not a single expression, Emily shuddered at the thought of speaking to her. After a brief period, she finally saw a faint smile of relief on Adrien’s face and she smiled to herself and let out a sigh and muttered to herself “Thank God! Looks like everything is going well”.

Emily qiqitv.info got a test message on her phone which read “Meeting is going well. Ms. Arquette wants to take us out for dinner. Make necessary reservations.”

Emily jumped to her feet and got to work quickly.

It was a very eventful day. It was pretty well planned and went as per plan other than a few glitches. Everybody seemed exhausted but Freya did not seem to show an ounce of tiredness.

People started getting ready to step out for dinner and Chris kept fumbling with his papers and bag and phone. He felt so helpless. He had never felt so powerless ever before. It seemed like he had been thrown off his game. He didn’t seem to understand why.

The dinner party left for the restaurant and the main team was there surrounding Ms. Arquette every step of the way. Once they arrived at the place, everybody got into the elevator to the 40th floor roof top restaurant. Incidentally, Chris and Ms. Arquette were at the end of the elevator car facing their back to the back of the car, everybody maintaining decent distance.

Chris felt something touching him on his butt. He got conscious and looked behind to see Freya’s left hand on his butt. He turned around and looked at her. She looked oblivious to what her hand was doing, so involved in her phone (she was checking her emails). He smiled, enjoying the attention his butt was getting and stayed put.

Encouraged by his silence, her hand now started wandering to the other butt cheek and feeling the shape of his toned mounds. He kept smiling to himself, enjoying the attention. Her hand, now determined to measure the firmness of his butt cheeks, started squeezing them. There was a squeeze, hold and release, there was another squeeze, hold and release. The fun part was that the pattern continued, but the time duration of the hold was so unpredictable that his cock started pulsating in anticipation. His trousers started getting tighter and he moved his hands in front of him with his briefcase hiding his crotch to save himself from embarrassment.

Her fingers now spread apart, started moving towards his butt crack. He started feeling his body temperature increasing and he reached out to his tie to release it a bit to allow for some cool air. She now made a maneuver that popped his eyes out, he gasped and held his breath. While on his trousers, her thumb was pinned just above his crack and her middle finger had made its entrance into his crack, moving in circles and teasing his hole. His heart now beating at a pace that everybody in the elevator would be able to hear, pounding inside its chest, his stomach was pulled in due to excitement, and his cock had started twitching inside his pants.

With great courage, he glanced at her and she was merrily chewing away her gum and typing away on her phone. He clutched his briefcase tighter and prayed that his body doesn’t betray him and start moaning. Just then, the elevator beeped and stopped at the 40th floor and her grip loosened, and she stepped out of the elevator as cool as a cucumber.

Chris let out a sigh of relief and followed the rest of them out of the elevator trying to hide behind people and lagging behind to make sure his hard cock is not visible. He kept saying “Dalai Lama! Dalai Lama! Dalai Lama!” to calm himself down and distracting his mind from the hot experience he just had.

He looked up to see where Freya was and as usual she was walking ahead of everyone and chatting away with the multiple men surrounding her to impress her with their knowledge and gain brownie points.

The gang of people entered the restaurant and made their way to the reserved table while Chris was trailing behind trying to recover from his arousal and catch up with the rest of them.

By the time he reached the table, everyone had settled down and there was hardly any space left for him.

One of the waiters stepped in and said “Sir, I will get you an extra chair.” and came back with a chair in an instant and placed it right beside Freya. That seemed to be the only open spot for an additional chair.

Chris said, “Thank you” and nervously sat down. Jeff (from Procurement department), who had planned to sit beside Freya hoping to engage her in a conversation glared at Chris for having taken away his spot. Chris forced an embarrassed smile.

As Chris relaxed a bit in his hot seat and started listening to the cross conversations on the table, Freya took off her shoes under the table and softly placed it on Chris’s left foot. He felt the foot and moved it away thinking she may have touched him by mistake. She stretched her leg under the table and touched his leg again, but this time, went straight to the edge of his trouser and inserted her toes inside his trouser, touching his bare leg. This startled him a bit, but he managed to maintain his composure while trying to figure out what was happening. He looked at her in an instant, puzzled. But she behaved as if everything travesti porno were normal. She was involved in a discussion with Bruce across the table. He decided to let it go. Her feet kept wandering on his legs for quite some time.

When the waiter came to take their order, Freya was looking into the menu and was asking everyone what they would like to eat. The menu was in her left hand and her right hand was on his knees under the table. As she ordered the appetizers, her hand started moving up his thigh, slowly, inch by inch.

Once the main course order was halfway through, her hand had already reached his crotch. He had almost started sweating at the heat he was feeling inside him and his cock had started moving like it had its own brain. Her hand was now dangerously close to his crotch and while keeping it there she started moving her index finger on his crotch, stroking and playing on his cock like it was a pendulum. His mouth started running dry and he asked for more water as he kept drinking water trying to calm himself down while his mind was absorbed in what was happening under the table.

Meanwhile, she was enjoying how he had him on her leash and was so involved in the conversation that it felt like her right hand was not even a part of her. Her fingers didn’t stop there. It went even closer now, moving up and had now reached the top of his zip. Her index finger was now accompanied by her thumb who together held the pull of the zip and kept pulling it down. He started feeling a little cold there as fresh air entered his confined private space.

Two fingers blocked the passage of air now as they entered the tiny open gateway to his manhood. Freya’s fingers were now measuring the width of his cock, from top to bottom, feeling the contours of his thick hard cock. Her index finger slowly moving up and trying to reach its head. The moment her finger touched his tip, he felt a jounce in his body. He tried hard to control and pretended as if he got hiccups and took the glass of water and took a few sips and kept the glass down.

She could feel his precum on her fingers. Taking advantage of the natural lubricant that was oozing out of him, she softly started stroking him inside his pants. His grip on the water glass kept tightening up as he tried to absorb the sexual energy revving up inside him and he was on the verge of cuming when, the waiter arrived with the food and she took her hand away showing some mercy on him.

Chris’s face was flushed with being on the edge and he was fidgeting in his chair.

When he finally got back to his senses, Jeff asked me “What is wrong buddy? You look flushed.”

“N…nothing. I am just feeling a bit hot. That is all.”

After the scrumptious meal, most people started heading back to their homes. Some people stayed back for a drink or two. While everybody was busy in their own small conversations, Chris decided to head back. But Andrew (from the Finance department) called out to him and asked him to sit down with them for a drink and handed him a glass.

Chris sat down sipping his drink and pretending to be interested in the conversation. After a little while, he started feeling dizzy. He shook his head to shake off the feeling. His vision started getting slightly blurred and before he knew it, he fell to the ground in a soft thud!


Chris started fluttering his eye lids and when we opened his eyes, he found himself in unfamiliar territory. He looked around, it was a new room, he had never seen before. It was dimly lit, very clean and large with walls painted a dim red, lots of fittings on the ceiling and walls which he didn’t recognize at all. He tried to get up from the bed, but he couldn’t. When he looked down, he saw that he was completely nude, his hands and legs spread wide and were tied up to the bed in such a way that he could hardly move. He started panicking and started squirming on the bed to free himself.

That was when he saw Freya at the end of the room. She was wearing a semitransparent red baby doll dress made of lace. The red seemed to be screaming for attention on the backdrop of her fair skin. Her flowy beautiful hair strewn on her shoulders in a sexy way. The dress was stretched across her boobs which looked like they were about to pop out. He knew he was attracted to her luscious body, but looking at her like this, his flaccid cock started moving.

He said “What is all this? Untie me please.”

She didn’t respond. She kept looking at him and walked closer to his bed in one of the most sensuous ways he had ever witnessed, slow and sexy. He could not take his eyes off the way her hips were moving side to side, elevated due to her high heels and the red lacy flowy dress kept swishing side to side giving an impression like she was a goddess in his dream.

She was holding a black something in her hand. After looking closely, it looked like a leash. And more surprisingly, there was a nude man at the other end of the leash. Not just any man. It was Andrew! The fearsome guy from the Finance department that everybody was intimidated by. The leash was attached to a belt that was around his neck. He was walking timidly behind her, hard as wood.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Then There Was Ben

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


When I first saw Ben, he was at a party. Not a bar party, but an honest-to-goodness house party like they used to do in high school. It was a really fun night, and I was buzzed and well on my way to being drunk when I spotted him in line for the bathroom.

Honestly, he wasn’t the sort of guy I usually go for. He was bookish, with glasses and short, cropped hair. Maybe five foot eight, but probably closer to five six. Not fat, exactly, but not a person who’d seen the inside of a gym very regularly either. I really don’t know that I would have talked to him in any other circumstances, but I had to pee and he was in line in front of me, so we ended up having a conversation while we waited.

He was an engineer. The kind that makes software, not bridges. We knew three or four people in common, but hadn’t ever really crossed paths before. What I really noticed about him though was his sense of humor. Not just an appreciation for a good joke, but a real sense of comic timing and word play. Just in that line alone, he made me laugh three or four times.

We ended up spending most of that party talking to each other. I kept finding myself closer and closer to him. Eventually I had to admit that it wasn’t just to hear him over the music. I’m pretty certain he was finding reasons to get closer to me as well, because around midnight – when both of us had a decent number of drinks in us – we started kissing on the balcony.

Do they teach you to kiss in engineering school? I only ask because Ben was one of those kissers who took your breath away. Sometimes I like a nice beard to rub up against, but his smooth face was soft and more attractive than I was ready for that night. He knew when to kiss softly on the lips, when to slip some tongue into my mouth, when to nip my bottom lip just slightly in his teeth.

My dick was raring to go before we’d spent even five minutes face to face.

I know he knew it too, because I kept pressing it up against him while we made out. He was getting excited as well. I was feeling his hard cock poking through his pants.

But he didn’t seem to be getting, y’know, hard hard. Not like I was, where I had to keep readjusting myself because there wasn’t enough room in my pants for my erection. I could feel some chub going on with him, but no full-mast pole rising. I didn’t want to take it too personally, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted this hot computer nerd to want me as much as I wanted him.

“You want to go somewhere more comfortable?” I asked, coming up for air and feeling like a prom date getting kissed for the first time. I was trying to be casual, but what I wanted was his dick. I wanted it in my hands, and I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted him to feed it to me and slap my face with it a little. I wanted him to push it up into me and fuck me with it while we kissed. I wanted to see what it looked like covered in our cum while I licked it clean like an ice cream cone.

There was the slightest hesitation on his part. Not much, but enough to note. I was pretty sure we were on the same team, since he’d just spent twenty minutes with his tongue in my mouth. But I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes shifted down and the little intake of his breath before he agreed.

I don’t remember leaving that party. I just remember the ride back to my place where we tried to make small talk and sort of ignore the seething sexual energy between us. If I’d been ten years younger, I’d have pulled into a park and had him fuck me in my backseat. I’m older now, and I’ve come to appreciate that nylon upholstery chafes and scrapes while cotton sheets don’t. They’re also machine washable.

Anyway, we got to my place, and got right back to making out. Ben was not the type of guy I usually ended up bringing home. I liked them big and brawny, with a nice carpet of hair on the chest to get lost in. Ben barely had any hair on his chest, but by then I didn’t care. I sucked and kissed his nipples until they got hard. Then I bit them softly while I went for his belt.

But Ben stopped me. He stopped me and pushed me on my back, and seductively leered at me as he undid my pants. I figured he wanted to be the first one to suck dick, and hey, I do love getting a blowjob as well. I watched his little show, and I was amused that he was the one who’s wound up getting his face slapped with a dick.

A lot of guys will tell you they can give head. In my experience, however, most of them are all talk. They’ll mouth you a little bit, get you wet, and maybe stroke you off in the process. Some of them will try and deep throat you, but they tend to turn it into a toothy process that’s no fun. Some of them will even swallow, but not as many as I’d like.

Then there are guys who give head like Ben.

I didn’t know what I was in for, but I knew it was going to be special when he swallowed the whole of my cock right off the bat. Just sucked me into his mouth and didn’t stop until his nose was in my pubic hair. I’m not packing a monster or anything, but it’s enough to choke someone who isn’t ready for it. Ben slipped my masturbasyon porno whole length into his face without skipping a beat.

Just as I got used to the hot, pressing warmth of his mouth, he started working his throat all up and down my dick. It felt like my cock was in a washing machine. He was making these insane sucking noises as he did this trick, and then started working his head back and forth on my crank.

I’ve had my penis in its share of mouths, I can tell you. But I have never felt the kind of dick-sucking magic Ben was able to do. In less than five minutes, just with his mouth and throat, he had me close to cumming. Like, dangerously close. I had to do those stupid mental exercises you learn as a teenager to keep from popping off.

I thought about wheelbarrows. I counted how many letters were in the phrase ‘I can’t cum just yet.’ I went through the multiplication tables all the way up to seven.

It wasn’t really helping. Not only was Ben into slurping and stroking and all those extra things that make a blowjob extra hot, he was really into eye contact while he did it. Every time I would look away or close my eyes, I would feel him gently tap my cock. Like someone tapping your shoulder to get your attention, but on my dick instead. When I’d look down, he’d smile and keep looking in my eyes while he slithered his tongue all the way up from my balls to my cockhead.

He was also really good at sensing when I was about to blow, and at least twice he had me on the razor’s edge before stopping his strokes or pulling his mouth off. Then he’d watch my prick throb in frustration before gobbing back down and putting my cock into that hot mouth of his.

It got to the point where I was asking him to make me cum. Seriously, he had my penis rock fucking hard, spit-soaked, shiny, and throbbing with a life of it’s own. I can dig a good edging session, but when I’m ready to blow, I’m ready to blow. Ben’s soft and kissable engineer mouth had taken me right up to that line and I needed to spill over and give him my load.

I guess he took pity on me. I had this beautiful sight of him holding my hard cock next to his face as he pondered my request. His mouth and chin were wet, his cheeks were smeared with pre-cum and spit, and the mouth that I had been kissing was smiling impishly. He gently tapped my swollen choad against the side of his face, little stringers of my cum stretching between his cheek and my dick, and finally said he was going to make me shoot off.

He put two hands on my cock, positioned his head at the tip, and started this hard-core stroke/suck rhythm. Folks, I don’t know where he learned this trick, but holy shit. The first rope of cum shot out of me before I was even aware I was actually cumming.

I came SO much. I came in his mouth. I came on his hair. I shot a wet rope of jizz that landed on my shirt even though I’d hiked it up over my nipples. Cum covered his hands. Cum was strung across his lips in sticky strings. I was amazed at the volume my nuts were producing.

He left me vibrating, gasping, and sitting there with a cramp in my foot from clenching my toes so hard.

What he couldn’t lick off me, he wiped away with a towel. I don’t even know when he’d gotten up to get one. Eventually I came back to myself enough to realize he’d cleaned me off and was sitting peacefully under my arm, evidently enjoying a post-blowjob snuggle.

“I can do you now.” I said, still feeling my dick tingling from his work.

“Oh, that’s okay,” he said, “I’m fine.”

I was a little baffled.

I mean he had just sucked the biggest load of cum out of my dick that I had ever shared with someone. He still had a little spot of my semen on his earlobe, for crying out loud. Was he just not into me that much? Why wouldn’t he want his turn to get off?

That’s when I saw the huge stain in his pants.

I’ve never blown a load in my clothing, personally. But I’ve seen enough cum stains to recognize one when I see it. Somewhere in the process of giving me the best blowjob I’d ever had, he had gotten too into it and shot his wad early. He must have been terribly embarrassed. I snuggled him tighter when that realization sank in.

Look, I get it. I’d had my share of early pops. Dicks are fickle things, and they do what they want. Sometimes you get too excited and one wrong rub will set them off. There was one guy I’d picked up who had a terrible combination of a hair trigger and no recovery time. He had cum in my ass three times in less than ten minutes and exhausted himself before I could even get into being fucked. I can’t be upset with anyone who’s struggling with a fussy dick.

I called him an Uber home, and we spent the time kissing and making out. I did eventually suck that pearl of cum off his earlobe. As he was walking out the door, I made him put his number in my phone. A guy who can suck cock like that is someone you never want to lose track of. They’re a fucking national treasure.

I messaged him the next day. I’m not even going to mature porno lie, I was thirsty for that man. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to suck his dick. I wanted him to bend me over my kitchen table and fuck me until I was so exhausted all I could do was lie in a pool of my own sweat and twitch.

It took me a couple of days of teasing and messaging, but at last he agreed to a dinner date that weekend.

I was nervous all week long. It was kind of new for me, really. I’d seduced guys before, and hell . . . he already knew what my cum tasted like. But I spent that week waxing, trimming, grooming, working out, and looking at my naked self critically. I even spent twenty minutes over a mirror examining my own asshole and wondering if I should get it bleached. (I fucked myself with my dildo instead, and came all over the mirror.)

Saturday came, and I went to pick him up. When he came to the door, I swear I felt a little flutter in my chest. He’d gotten a haircut, I could tell immediately. He was freshly shaved (he’d missed a spot under his chin), and when I leaned in for a kiss, I could smell a touch of cologne behind his ears.

My balls, cock and asshole all throbbed at the same time, and it took everything I had not to push him back inside and ride him like a pony.

Dinner was awesome. I love French food, and Ben had never tried sheep’s cheese. (He wasn’t a fan.) The wine was good, we had a little table off to ourselves, and before the dessert course I was already playing footsie with him.

Okay, maybe I was a little merciless. I took every opportunity to flirt, talk dirty, hint and intimate that I wanted to fuck. I ran my foot up his leg under the table, I touched his hands whenever I could, I fed him forkfuls of cheese and kept his wineglass full. When he went to the bathroom, I texted him a picture of my cock tenting out my pants.

The plan was dinner and a movie, but by the end of dinner it had changed to dinner and getting back to my place ASAFP to fuck. The whole way home, Ben was flirting back with me, and a couple blocks from my house, he even started feeling me up as I drove.

We practically fell into my front door, and I dragged him into the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. I lay back on the bed, naked as the day I came into the world. Ben crawled over me, shirtless and hotter than a sidewalk in July. I almost wondered why he still had his pants on, but then his hand was on my dick and I was thinking with my other head.

Did I mention he was good at blowjobs? He’s fucking good at blowjobs. I honestly don’t know if there’s a mouth I’ve enjoyed more. But I didn’t want this to be like last time, where he went home feeling bad about losing his nut. Nobody should feel like that, and I wanted this to be about getting him off too.

Also, fair is fair, and I wanted to know what his semen tasted like.

Reluctantly, I pulled him off my cock. I kissed him, loving how warm his mouth was and the taste of precum on his lips. “Take your pants off.” I said into his mouth. “Take your pants off and feed me your cock.”

Again, I sensed an immediate reluctance in him. He was still kissing me, but his body stiffened up. Something was off, and I was starting to wonder if I was going too fast for my hot little engineer. But . . . but he’d eaten my cum just last week. He’d even smiled at me through his mouthful of spunk. He’d cum in his own pants, and I was pretty certain he’d jerked off once or twice in the interim. What was going on?

“Hey,” I said, disengaging and looking into his eyes. “We don’t have to do this. We can watch TV or have some ice cream. I have coffee if you want. But I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”

His face fell, and my heart broke. There was clearly something he was agonizing over. Even with a cock hard enough to break a brick over, I wanted him to feel good about this. About us. Consent is important, but enthusiastic consent is what I like the most.

So, we had some coffee.

“I . . . I have a condition,” he finally said. The words were caught in his throat and I could see how much it hurt him to say them.

Hey, I’m an adult. I know there’s risks to sex. I know bodies are imperfect. People want their sex lives to be like what they see in porn, but reality isn’t like that. It’s not a deal-breaker for me. There are ways you can work around just about anything. People like to fuck and we’re really creative about it. I wanted Ben to know that whatever he was struggling with, it wasn’t going to scare me off.

If nothing else, I didn’t want to give up those blowjobs of his. Ye gods.

By his second coffee, Ben was feeling much better, and I broached the subject of his condition. “I want to have sex with you,” I said. “I want you to want to have sex with me. I really like you, so let’s talk and get this out of the way here and now. What’s bothering you?”

He looked at me, and his lips tightened in a resigned line, and he said “You probably won’t believe me if I tell you.”

I went to protest, milf porno but he stopped me. “It’s better,” he said, “if I just show you.”

I could see the reluctance in his whole body, but nevertheless, he stood up and began unbuckling his belt.

I was ready for anything. Warts, sores, maybe a rash that looked like bread pudding. Was there an accident in his past that had deformed him? Maybe he was really really small. Did he have two cocks, like the hentai I read? I mean, when someone just says they have ‘a condition,’ your mind starts to get creative.

But when he got his pants off, all I saw was a normal penis. Circumcised, like most guys I’ve been with, so nothing unusual there. He was six or seven inches, nothing to be ashamed of. He was chubbing up, and it was bending a little to the left. (Some guys are lefties, some are righties.) It had the normal color, normal veins, a nice pair of normal testicles gently hanging there. I mean, there was nothing immediately out of the ordinary. I would have started licking his balls right there if there wasn’t this little . . . like . . . shower-cap looking thing tied to the end of his dick.

Seriously, he had a little cap on his cock. It looked like it was made of terry cloth. It was tied with these light blue flat laces. The end was a teensy bit stained, like anything that spends a lot of time on the end of a cock will get.

“What . . . what is that?” I asked, now absolutely fascinated. “Can I touch it?”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking nervous. “It’s gonna be wet though.”

So it was. I reached up and gently touched the little cloth cap, noting that it was soft to the touch. But yes, it was wet. Like, soaking wet. A quick glance at his underwear around his ankles showed me that it was soaked through and leaving wet marks in his shorts. I couldn’t help myself, and I gently squeezed his cock through the cap, and the material squished in my fingers.

If you spend any time having sex, you learn that bodies make fluids, and those fluids have characteristic smells. Welcome to life as a human.I’d dated a guy once who was really into pee. It wasn’t my thing, but we all want to make the ones we love happy. So I knew what that smelled like, and what was soaking his little dick cap wasn’t pee. I’d dated enough guys and had enough sex to know the smell of semen too, and Ben’s little penis towelcap was just saturated in cum. I squeezed it again, and felt it run down my hand.

A quick taste test confirmed it. Ben was literally dripping semen, and he wasn’t even fully hard. I looked up at him, rubbing jizz between my fingers, confusion evident on my face.

“Have you ever heard,” he asked, “of hyperspermia?”

According to Wikipedia, medical hyperspermia is a condition where a male will ejaculate larger than average quantities in excess of 5-6 milliliters. It’s exceedingly rare, affecting something less than four percent of the male population. As a medical condition, it’s really only of interest in people who are trying to conceive, as it can carry a slightly higher risk of miscarriage in the first trimester of pregnancy.

Yeah, I had pretty much the same look on my face when he told me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m from Wisconsin. Is that the same thing as shooting big loads?”

The pained look on Ben’s face made me instantly regret my sass. I squeezed his cum cap again, marveling at how soaked through it was. “Sorry, it’s just . . . you’re saying you leak cum all day long?”

“It’s not so awesome on this end.” He said, untying the laces and freeing his dick from the sopping fabric. I took note of the way his cum ran in strings from his dick to the cap. “I have to wear these little sponges. I ruin underwear. God knows how many pairs of pants I’ve had to retire. I have to jerk off constantly or I’ll leak through everything. Three or four times a day.”

“So,” I said, curious and ravenously horny, “do you cum big loads? Like, what are we talking about here?”

He looked at me with the gaze of someone who had opened up and been vulnerable and was now getting questions about something he’d never expected. “Uh, well . . . you know those glasses they serve whiskey in?”

“They’re called ‘whiskey glasses,’ yeah.”

“I can fill one of those if I don’t beat off for a day.”

Lots of thoughts were going through my head. A whiskey glass? That’s a weirdly specific benchmark to pull out of nowhere. That had to mean that – at some point – Ben had abstained from jerking off for a day, and then filled a whiskey glass. With cum. My cock spasmed at the very thought.

Had I not been looking at his dripping penis while holding the soaked little cum cap in my hand, I wouldn’t have believed him. But as I watched, a thick stream of pre-cum bubbled forth and dripped, long and slow, into my carpet. Now the stain in his pants from the other night made a lot more sense.

There are always things we’d change about ourselves, and it’s impossible to be objective about your own body. I can’t say I’d be upset to have the problems Ben had, but I wasn’t Ben. He’d taken a big risk in opening up to me, and his eyes were filled with his unspoken fears and anxieties. I always believed that if there’s a way to help someone ease a terrible burden, you should help them. There’s enough misery in this world for everyone to have more than their fair share.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Retirement Home Gangbang

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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This story was written by request of a readers fantasy.


My name is Keena and I work the evening shift at a retirement home. It was just like any other day, I got ready for work in my white shoes, stockings and nurses smock. I headed off to work like any other day except that this was my last day to work there. I was going to be moving and changing jobs. When I arrived there wasn’t anything new going on it was the same old routine. I began making my rounds checking to see if anyone needed anything and that people were taking their pills and such. When I got to the TV room there were four men sitting playing cards.

“How are you gentlemen doing today?” they all kind of grumbled and said they were OK.

“It’s my birthday today. I’m sixty-three years old.” said one of the men.

“Well Happy Birthday to you.”

“Yeah some birthday. I wanted a stripper to come but they won’t let me have one.” the other men chimed in with their disappointment.

“Well I’m sure it’s against policy to have that done.”

“But I’m sixty-three years old and I want a lap dance for my birthday. How about you? You have a nice round ass and big tits.” the other men all agreed with him.

“I can’t be going around giving lap dances for you men. You all too old for me anyway. You wouldn’t have the energy to keep up with me.”

A few of the men opened their pants and pulled out their already hard cocks. ‘We sure do know what to do with you. We all still have fire in the furnace.”

“You men need to behave and put those things away before I report you all.” Although some of them had very nice cocks.

They replied with. “You’re just afraid you couldn’t handle all of us.”

I minyon porno just shook my head and walked out of the room. I went back to the nurses station and starting doing some work but I couldn’t stop thinking about all those hard cocks. After a while the rest of the staff had left for the day except the other nurse who was stationed on the top floor. I couldn’t seem to do my work, my pussy kept tingling and I kept thinking about their cocks. I walked back over by the room they were in and they were all still sitting there playing cards.

Then I got to thinking to myself. No one else was here that would catch me if I did anything, even if these men tried to brag about it who would believe them, this was the last day I be working here so what would it matter and I couldn’t get the sight of their cocks out of my mind and wanted to get fucked. So I went to the bathroom and took off my panties and bra, fixed my nurses smock and went to do my rounds to see who else might be up or wandering around. Everyone else on my floor were either sleeping or settled in for the night. Once I was sure that it was safe I went back to the TV room and they were all still sitting playing cards.

I took a deep breath and walked into the room. “Are you guys still playing cards?”

“Yes and I’m not going to bed until I get my birthday lap dance.” the other men all laughed and agreed.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a lap dance then you all have to go back to your rooms. OK?”

They all agreed and placed one chair in the middle of the room and the others facing it so they could watch. I turned the radio on low and started swaying in front of the birthday boy. olgun porno They were all whistling, cheering and urging me to take off my clothes.

“You boys need to be more quiet or I’ll stop dancing.”

“Well it isn’t a lap dance if you got your clothes on yet we all want to see some skin.” The other men all agreed with him.

I looked around at them all and could see that they all had hard ons. I took a deep breath and decided to go for it. “Is this what all you men want to see?” I opened my nurses smock and let it drop to the floor revealing to them my big tits, round butt, shaved pussy and white stockings.

They all stood up and started grabbing at my body. I could feel hands grabbing my big tits, others were grabbing my round ass and one hand slid between my legs and was rubbing my pussy. I didn’t move I just stood there enjoying all the attention. Then I felt two cocks being pushed into me hands and I began stroking them. The guy rubbing my pussy slid a finger inside me and the guy behind me spread me the cheeks of my round butt and squeezed his cock in between them.

The guy behind started pulling me backwards “Come and sit that round ass of yours on my cock.”

I moved back as he sat down and straddled him letting him stuff his cock into my pussy. I kept jerking the other two off and the guy fingering my pussy spread my legs and pushed his cock into my pussy along with the guy I was sitting on. It felt like a huge cock fucking me as they thrust their cocks in me at the same time. I began alternating between the other two cocks sucking and licking moaning as my body was used by these old men.

I was riding the tow cocks inside me hard şahin k porno loving the feel when one of them shot his hot cum in me and shortly after that the other guy let go of his load. I could feel my pussy filled with all that cum dripping out of me. Their cocks got soft and I stood up when the other two that I was jerking off pulled me towards the couch. They laid me down and one straddled my chest and started fucking my big tits while the other spread my legs and shoved his cock into my cum filled hole. The two that had just fucked me came over and took turns pushing their cocks into my face for me to lick them clean.

I had just finished licking the second guys cock clean when I was close to my second orgasm. The guy fucking my tits shot his cum over my chest and face then moved up to have me lick him clean. While I was finishing him off the last guy thrust his cock hard into me and I felt more cum filling my pussy. Once his cock stopped jerking inside me and he finished cumming he too came to let me lick him clean. They all were sitting around looking at me laying on the couch catching their breaths while my body was still shaking.

“So you boys thought I couldn’t handle a few old men did you?” and smiled at them.

“You should did handle us. I haven’t had a good fuck like that in a long time.” said the birthday boy.

The others agreed and started getting dressed. I grabbed my nurses smock and got dressed myself. I could feel the cum running down my inner thighs and needed to go clean up. I told them all. “Alright now that you all had your fun it’s time to go back to your rooms.” and I waved goodnight to them and headed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up and put my panties and bra back on and got back to work. I thought to myself that it was a pretty nice going away present and wondered what my next job would have in store for me.

I hope you enjoyed this story. Once again it was a fantasy one of my readers had that ask me to write it for her.

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Tales of Lupo Ch. 01: First Meeting

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I saw her jump down from the train, scanning ahead. She spotted me instantly and began to run. Was I ready for this? She fussed with her ticket at the barrier, her frustration with the fiddly machine breaking her smile momentarily. I stood still as she pulled herself through breaking into her run again, arms wide when she threw herself around me, hugging tightly. I staggered backwards a bit, not quite taken by surprise but a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. She pressed her lips against my cheeks, before burrowing her head tightly into my neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” was all she kept saying over and over again in her sweet Australian lilt.

I pushed back gently, uncoupling her from me. She was beaming, radiating excitement. She was exactly how I imagined her – a fire in her eyes, an uncontrollable smile, a youthful femininity about her. I took her all in. Every detail about her noted in an instant. My heart was beating fast but I didn’t want to show her just how excited that I actually was. I stepped back, holding out my hand to take hers and lead. I picked up her small overnight bag, the perfect gentleman.

“Hello, it’s good to meet you. You need to come with me now.” I said softly and coolly, my expression as flat as I could make it.

Her face dropped, her smile disappearing to be replaced by a look of puzzlement.

I tugged at her hand. “This way.” as I lead a few steps ahead of her pulling her behind me out through the front entrance of the station and into the Glasgow streets.

Although the Friday morning rush hour had just passed, a queue had formed for the black cabs outside in the rank. I walked briskly past to the waiting private hire that I had pre-booked. I wanted to show her that I was organised; a man in control. It was only a short ride to the hotel but it was neither an inconsiderable walk nor through the best area of Glasgow unless you firstly walked down to the waterfront. No, a taxi was better. We’d be exhausted if we walked at the brisk pace that I would normally set and with the sun shining, unusually for this city, I may not have remained the picture of cool calm that I endeavoured to portray. I sat in the car in collected silence, looking forward whilst catching her studying me in my peripheral vision. It’s surprising just how much detail you can actually see peripherally, it’s something that always amazes me. I so wanted to turn around, pull her close in and land a huge kiss on her lips but I knew that ultimately an action like that may spoil what I hoped would be the pinnacle of this short journey of self-exploration that she had set me out on.


I could never understand the whole game of domination and submission. I had always thought of the act of love or sex of being a transaction based on equality. You gave, and you received – end of story! Nothing else to it. I disliked the concept of one party being sub-servient, as my understanding of domination and submission was at that point. I would feel like I was exploiting a vulnerability, or taking something that was not quite mine to take – selfish, self-centred actions. But then again I had not really thought much about it at all. I had associated domination with pain; submission with weakness. I hadn’t really been attracted to all the BDSM costuming and paraphernalia. Nor the imagery, the fake-ness and sometimes the downright weird. It was a category on porn sites that I would by-pass, not even with a passing interest. The extremes were probably what I associated with my view of BDSM; unable really to disassociate the SM from the B&D. “A little bit of bondage is fun” someone once said to me online which, fair enough, could be quite playful and I could think back to a distant past when I had tried that, only to end up in fits of laughter at my bodged attempts to tie a very willing partner to the bed. Not much domination was forthcoming in that attempt! In reality it was not an area that did much for me. Vanilla appeared to be my flavour. That is until I found Lupo.

She considered me to be a natural dominant. I laughed at the thought. Me! Ordering someone to do something purely for my pleasure. Me? Yielding a cane or paddle, a naughty bare-bottomed girl across my lap? All the stereotypes filled my mind. Me, the ‘Daddy dom’? Me, wearing the standard outfit of a smart dark suit with my ‘sub’ wearing high heels, stockings and suspenders and not much more?Okay, I admit that I do have a perchance for erotic imagery that may or may not involve a bit of seductive dressing and undressing but to play it out in reality appeared unimaginable. But then, I suppose the eroticism that accompanies the B&D scene is rather better than the crude misogynistic portrayal of women in most internet pornography.

At first I shook it from my head. But more and more of our chats veered towards talk of a dominant / submissive nature. She had told me a few things about her past, it raised more than a few eyebrows! She got me thinking. Thinking about the sex that I had enjoyed in the past. What I liked doing. What I longed for myself. Was there a natural tendency kürt porno within me for domination or submission? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t strike the line between domination and submission – in my mind it continually blurred. If I felt that I was in control, perhaps going down on my lover, was I not in fact being submissive as I was giving the pleasure, not receiving it? What was domineering about that? At what point do you switch? A term that I realised existed for that very reason.

So I set to thinking. What really does it mean to be dominant? What does it mean to be submissive? At what point do you ‘switch’? What are the pleasures? Why was I finding it a bit of a turn on that she thought of me being a natural dominant? And clearly, she was willing to be submissive towards me, very submissive, wherever that may lead.

It was hard to think past the stereotypes but I wanted to work out what she really meant. Why was I a natural dominant? She hardly knew me at all. She lived on the other side of the Earth after all. Literally! Eleven thousand miles or just less than eight thousand if I started digging. And yet, she did seam to know me, and I believed I had a good measure of her. I wasn’t convinced that she was the true submissive she thought that she was, nor I the dominant she may expect. I resolved to explore however, avoiding any research; avoiding the stereotypical ideas as much as I could; simply thinking things through to come up with a plan to test whatever theories that may fill my mind.

For many weeks I thought about it. Is it about exploitation? It was clear that there are many instances which quickly veer into abuse – mental or physical abuse – and that was unpalatable to me. Or does equality and equity figure? The words that I associated with BDSM all had negative connotations in my mind – slave, pain, inflict, imprison, dungeon, whip, spike, gag, stern, restrain, bound and similar. And the associated imagery, particularly how women are represented – thin, pale, ‘baby-girl’, begging, hopeless, compliant, if submissive; leather, rubber, dark hair, big breasted, strong, if dominant. Gradually I settled on what I thought would suit me, well at least the dominant side that Lupo had talked about. Dominance, I decided, was about control. Respect, control and release. Lots of respect, lots of control and, ultimately, exquisite release. And loyalty. It fitted perfectly if I thought about it like that. Perfectly for me, that is, as perhaps the dominant she saw in me.

Which brings me to where I am now.


Firstly, a few more background details to help you make sense of this journey.

My Lupo does live on the other side of the world. Australia to be exact, diametrically opposed to my home in Scotland. We had gotten to know each other after I stumbled upon her online in my feeble attempt to participate in the world of Roleplay. That seamed now in the distant past.

She had enchanted me from the start, perhaps I had enchanted her. Over the months we had grown to know each other, intimate details exchanged over the anonymity, or rather the belief in the anonymity, of the web. Perhaps we were each looking for a soul mate. Perhaps a relief from a mundane existence of our own lives. That doesn’t really matter and I don’t need to go into anymore details. Suffice to say, she had connections in Scotland and had already made arrangements to visit long before we stumbled upon each other, to repeat a phrase.

So we had arranged to meet. She was taking the weekend off from her visit, travelling up to Glasgow, a short train journey, to meet with me. I had planned to play out her fantasy, or maybe it was my fantasy after all. I needed to test if she was correct in her conclusions about me.

So here we were, the back of a private hire cab. Together. Her beaming in delight, myself with a stoical look of self control but with extreme excitement building within me. ‘Not allowed to let that show, though’ I thought as we neared our destination.


We pull up in the forecourt of the Glasgow Hilton. I had selected this particular hotel specifically for its spectacular views across the city. Earlier I had checked in and scouted out the room that I had chosen. I had been specific – a room on the highest floor, North facing, a large room with full height floor to ceiling picture windows. Double King bed, the largest they have. I had rearranged the furniture to ensure that it was laid out to my liking, opened the curtains wide. I knew that she would instinctively go straight to the window to look at the view. Who wouldn’t? The North facing aspect would mean I wasn’t blinded by the low but strong mid morning sunlight. Much as I like to admire a woman’s shape silhouetted against the sun, I wanted to see the details of her. Every detail. To take her all in.

I lean forward and hand the driver a couple of twenties although the fare would only be about ten. He raises an eyebrow and jumps out to open the door for Lupo. I open my own and climb out, the driver handing me her bag.

“Have a nice qiqitv.info day, sir,” he says and casts a silent nod in Lupo’s direction.

I lead her in, straight past the reception to the lift lobby, the concierge nodding respectfully in recognition of my earlier visit. I ask her to enter and follow her in. We stand in silence. I can’t work out if she feels puzzled, annoyed or disappointed in my forced silence and politeness. I keep this facade up as we arrive at the top floor. I lead her directly to the room, slide the key card in and invite her to enter first.

As expected, she immediately runs to the window. The excitement of when she first saw me at the station returns.

“This is amazing!” she says in her light Australian lilt. “This view is fantastic.”

She turns to me beaming, the full height window lighting her up perfectly.

She’s expecting me to join her in her excitement. I remain cool and collected, standing near the door, fighting my own inner desires to smile back and enjoy our enthusiasm together. I step forward and sit on an armchair that I had positioned some way back at the foot of the enormous bed. The room was large and I had earlier created a clear space between the bed and the window, with the long settee against the wall and the coffee table pushed out of the way.

“Step forward,” I order softly, gesturing with my hand to the centre of the space. “Stand. I want to see you.”

She steps forward into the centre of the space shrugging her shoulders, her arms outwards towards me.

“Well? This is me.” she says smiling.

I stare at her, holding my cold look.

She giggles and pirouettes around.

“Am I to your satisfaction, sir?” she continues playfully. Perhaps I had misjudged her ability or desire to be submissive.

“No talking! Did I say you could speak?” I talk softly but forcefully.

She freezes, realising that I may be being serious. If she hadn’t recognised the various clues and signals that I thought I’d given out she was realising now that I was about to show her who exactly was in control here.

“Did I?”

She shakes her head, lowering it along with her arms and shoulders.

“Stand straight.” I demand. She complies.

I begin to study her. She is what I imagined. Youthful, exuberant, yet a bit shy. Her curves matched her height perfectly. If I stood next to her her chin would settle on my shoulders, a good match. Her hazel blue eyes are warm in the indirectly lit room, her pupils large and dark.

I remain silent for about two minutes, our eyes not parting from each others’ gaze. Inside my heart races. I am feeling more than a bit turned on, my cock hardening fast inside my jeans. ‘Calm and cool, remain in charge’ were the words that I was focussing on. I see her begin to tire as she stands still in front of me. I am reminded that she may be feeling uncomfortable.

“Undress” I say softly.

Her mouth opens slightly.

“Undress for me.” I repeat a little louder but with a gentle inflection. I swallow hard, just as she does the same. We probably just shared an intensely erotic moment. A shiver passes over me.

She unzips her hoodie, drawing her arms out. I point to the settee.

“Place your clothes neatly over there.”

She lays her top down and returns to the stop in the centre. I nod ‘continue’.

She begins to unbutton and unzip her jeans, realising that she still has her trainers on. She stumbles a bit as she prises them off one by one. I stifle a laugh. This is probably not the most elegant of strips but that’s reality for you. She kicks her trainers to the side.

“Neatly!” I say. She moves to straighten them at the side of the settee.

“I like neatness. You must remember that.” I’m not sure that I am now displaying stereotypical behaviour after all. I look down at her feet, she follows my look downwards then leans to remove her socks, stretching them out together and folding them, moving to place them next to her top. I laugh inwardly again. ‘Who flattens and folds socks?’

Her hands return to her zipper. She looks across at me, hesitating. I nod again. She looks unsure. I lean forward in my seat, my eyes not leaving hers. She knows I mean business. She glances downwards, slowly slipping the waistband lower across her hips, peeling her tight jeans down over her legs, using her feet one by one to release them. A faintest of nods from me signals her to pick them up, sort them the right way around and fold them, adding to the pile of her clothes on the settee. She stands in front of me, in her knickers and t-shirt, hands on her hips. A clear signal that says, ‘So what?’. I breath in deeply and exhale, shaking my head slightly – my attempt at a clear signal back showing that I wasn’t happy that she was fighting against my wishes.

Her arms slump to her sides.

At this point a slight panic passes over me. I was asking her to expose herself to me. With nothing in return. I was simply sitting and watching. Was this really dominance and submission? Or was I back to vulnerability and latin porno verging on exploitation? All I really know is that she looks incredible. Her curves exposed. Her t-shirt tight across her boobs. I swallow again. I need to go on.

I look up at her directly.

“Go on.” I say reflecting my inner thoughts.

I think that we have now reached the point of no return. I believe that she realises that too. She pulls her t-shirt over her head, I see she is about to toss it to the side but she stops, folds it carefully and places it on the pile, returning swiftly to her spot. She passes her arms behind her and un-does the clasp on her bra, shaking herself loose. She moves to place that neatly on top and returns. She stops.

Her hesitation un-nerves me, although I cannot let that show. All that is going through my mind is that somehow I have this gorgeous woman in front of me, naked apart from her knickers, very exposed in front of the full height window. So it was nearly as I had planned but the fact she was now there, waiting, when I had clearly given her an instruction to undress kind of threw my confidence. I decide that I need to change direction a little, assert myself a little more. Perhaps she was an expert in this game after all.

I stand, upright, and make as if I’m adjusting my clothing. I am aware that if anyone cared to look closely that they would see my cock stiff, pressing against the buttons on my jeans. I hold her gaze again, not wanting her to look down and see my excitement. I step forward and circle around her. She focusses on something up high, holding her head still as I move around. I make out like I am inspecting her.

Indeed I am. I am taking in all details about her. Her pale skin, not what one expects from a typical vision of a youthful Australian. I look at her shoulders, wide and firm. Her boobs, full. Perfect nipples. My eyes break with her’s as a glance downwards. I see the creases in her skin where her jeans have pressed in tightly, the pink impressions gradually fading. I breath in deeply, as I imagine her hips and her legs wrapped around me. My cock is so hard, wanting her now. I stop and stand in front of her. I can sense her deep breathing although I know she is trying to hide it. I lean in close.

“I said undress.” I walk back to my chair and sit.

She stands looking across at me.

‘Damn’ I think to myself. ‘I need to push this a bit further’. I knew she was experienced in this, but I didn’t know what experiences she’d had. I decide to expose her further, take it to what I would think of as bordering on going too far.

I stand again, gesturing her to move back towards the window. I pull the coffee table out into the middle. I know it’s strong and sturdy, I had checked that earlier just in case. I reach out and take her hand to guide her up to stand on top of it.

“Now, undress!” I say, again softly but this time with a hint of ‘I’m not going to ask again.’

I sit.

She now stands in front of me. The full height window behind her exposing her to the city below. No sunlight shadows to disguise herself in. She looks like she is floating, the wide cityscape behind her. I nod a final instruction.

She peels her knickers off, sliding them down her legs and stepping out. She reaches down holding them in her hand, not quite knowing what to do with them. I stand and take them from her, flattening and folding them, noting the damp patch along the middle, adding them to her pile of clothes.

I sit again.

I realise that perhaps sitting this time is the wrong thing to do. She cannot expose herself any further. I am aware that as she is standing on a table, not a high one, perhaps about 30 centimetres off the floor, the exposure that she may feel with the full height window and 120 metre drop below may be a bit extreme. After all, I didn’t know if she suffered from vertigo or acrophobia. She appears to be doing okay, however.

I stand, then approach her, circling around once more. She stares at the spot high up again. I like that now my head is lower than hers. I move close, circling slowly again., my line of sight directly at the level of her breasts. She stands perfectly still. My heart beats out of my chest. I breath deeply, taking in her scent; the sweet scent of her exposed flesh. I long to touch her but I resist, truly using all my willpower. There’s no detail about her that I don’t take in.

I hear her breathing deepen, watching her breasts heave. There is a slight tremble in her legs. I hope that her back is okay, perhaps this is torture for her standing still for so long? I move my head in close to her shoulders and raise a hand up to hold her hair against my face. I breath in deeply, overplaying so that she can hear me taking in her smell. I am standing in front of her, a bit to one side. I look directly into her eyes, her pupils as wide as they could ever be. Pure lust is what I see in them, a deep wanton desire. I release my hand from her hair and track a finger down her spine, slowly from the nape of her neck. Her back arches in response, her hips throw forward. I steady her with my other hand on her stomach, not breaking eye contact. Her body freezes, her face contorts as she bites her lip hard. Either this is incredibly painful for her or incredibly pleasurable. I know what it is for me.

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Tales From Subspace

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I started with a phone call. A pay phone call to a number found in the back of a new-wave newspaper that advertised Alternative Lifestyles. [Alternative Lifestyles. I had never felt like an alternative anything, but maybe I get ahead of myself.] It was not easy to make the call. My fingers could barely find the numbers on the keypad in the dim light. My breath came short and fast. Sweat slickened my palms and I was wet. Moist heat between my legs, throbbing with my pulse. Pounding emotions I thought long dead, forcing the very center of my being to vibrant flaming life. My skin heated up slowly in the cool air and my eyes blazed with this ill-concealed inner fire. Dark passions filling my body with need. I wanted pure physical satiation again. Hands, lips, cock, on me and in me, once again. It had been six long years of self-imposed isolation. I was ready to reach out but did not want true commitment. The thought of the traditional world of dating turning my stomach. I needed what I had been fantasizing about for so many years. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the phone.

10 Years ago…

Nobody ever just falls into the life. It is a long torturous process that for some of us covers many years. It is an enigmatic tour through the dark recesses of your own mind. A journey not for the timid or shy. I have always believed that these cryptic images were always inside me. I just suppressed or hid them. Like most of us. It did start about ten years ago. I was an innocent. Weren’t we all once?

I was back from Karate class. Bag slung over my shoulder, sweaty, hot, hair plastered to my forehead. I walked into the small house that I shared with my boyfriend Rob. He was waiting for me. My riding crop tapping restlessly against his knee. I dropped my things and put my hands behind my neck. Falling gracefully to my knees, careful to keep them apart. Eyes away from his face and trained to his belt. My face was burning with embarrassment.

“Come here.” He cooed. I crawled the distance necessary to place myself at his feet. The thick cream wool carpeting was harsh on my knees. I looked straight ahead at the dark tweed pants that I had bought him for his birthday. Cut full in the crotch to accentuate how gifted he was there. It was tempting to raise my eyes but I didn’t want to see the slow smile of triumph my breaking of the rules would bring over his handsome face. I tried to empty my mind of anticipation. [What would he want of me this time?] Any number of menial humiliating tasks awaited me. Things I would have to do on my knees without complaint. He addressed me again. His voice had changed, becoming huskier, more breathless.

“Open my pants.” I did it, undoing the zipper with my teeth. “Make me hard with your lips only.” I freed him and took him into my mouth. Smelling musky salt. A unique aroma that was all his own. My hands snaked around his thighs to his buttocks. I kneaded them softly, as I balanced my own movements. Swallowing him down until air no longer moved into my lungs. He wasn’t enormous, by any means, but easily on the high side of normal length. It was that Rob dripped sex. Every look, glance, touch was an assessment of someone else’s erotic potential, mostly mine. Suddenly, he backed up. His hands gently forcing my mouth away. “Go into the bedroom, remove your clothes, lie face down on the bed. Wait for me.” I went as quickly as I could. My hands trembling on my clothes, until finally I was nude. I lay face down on the waterbed. Feeling the cool percale sheets rubbing against my breasts, hardening the tips. Making me shiver as I spread myself like a starfish. Arms reaching, legs spread. My face lying to the right. Eyes closed, as always when there was any chance of seeing him while we played. It wasn’t that we never had vanilla sex. At one point, that was all we had. Until we got engaged. Suddenly that diamond ring became a band of iron. Every orifice I owned was his to play with. Yet so slowly did he introduce these delicacies that I hardly noticed. One day he was holding me down to make love to me. The next, it seemed, he was breaking a riding crop on my virgin buttocks and taking me that way. No one ever knew except an uncle who brushed against me inadvertently and felt the garters that Rob made me wear without underwear. My uncle started to make a joke of it, but my furious blush made him back away quickly in confusion. The family could never know. I insisted upon that. They still don’t and if they do. Well, they don’t say anything. Rob came in. I could hear him. He secured my wrists, but left my ankles loose, so I could bend my knees. Just how he liked me, easily accessible. “Open your eyes!” He commanded and I obeyed. I looked into his dark eyes, noting again the intelligence there. Not truly handsome, his features were arresting. His hair cut almost military short. His smile endearingly crooked. When we were in High School together, I thought he was sweet. “Did you enjoy your class?” He asked carefully.

“Yes, Rob.” qiqitv.info His hands moved to my spine. His long supple fingers wandering to the cleft between my buttocks, which tightened involuntarily.

“I bought something new today.” He walked away from me then. I heard the water in the bathroom running and knew that he was washing whatever it was that he had bought before using it on me. He kept the new toy behind his back and opened the drawer for the lube. He sat between my legs, Indian style, and ordered. “Bend your knees for me.” I complied, feeling my buttocks separating to give him access. Rob really knew Greek. It had to be one of his favorite things to do. Not once during our two-year affair did he ever damage me back there. I never bled, not even the first time he took me that way. A thorough douching softening me, weakening my resolve, my fear.

I felt his fingers, wet with lube, opening me. That was one of the few lasting gifts that Rob gave me. The gift of orgasm that originates somewhere other than my clitoris. I tried to relax as I felt that first finger, become two, then three. Rob taking his time, never in a hurry when he had his favorite orifice before him. I felt four fingers slide in and involuntarily clenched against him. I had never had four fingers in my ass at one time.

“Relax, Anne. You’re resisting me and I don’t much like it.” I felt him work the ring of my anus slowly until I relaxed working lube in much deeper than he had ever done before. “Breath slowly and evenly. You’re going to love this.” I felt the tip of the `toy’ pushing between two of his fingers. It felt slippery slick with K-Y, and I pushed out hard. Feeling his warm human flesh replaced with firm unyielding rubber. The pressure built to a pleasurable plateau and went beyond into aching unrelenting strain for my body to accept this impossibly wide dildo. I groaned, trying to close my lips against the sound. “Come on, push out. It’s not much bigger than I am around.” He kept pushing, forcing my anus to stretch around the thing painfully. I felt tears in my eyes. It seemed to go in forever. Past any point of comfort, causing a cramping in my stomach much worse than anything menstrual. I bore down to expel it, get it out of me and felt Rob push it home. The base slightly smaller so it wouldn’t slip out. He sighed with satisfaction. Nestling the base carefully between my butt cheeks and laying my legs flat with a jerk. I lay immobile, impaled by pain. He stroked my back and I felt the electric tingle of his touch along my entire body, arousing me in spite of the burning dilation behind me.

“Hurt?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “I’m going to take my crop to your sweet ass. Then pull that toy from you and give you something warm to replace it with.” A quick shot of fear went through me. Fear of more pain. Knowing it would hurt but Rob would be so hard and so good afterwards. I wanted him to whip me. It was the least that I could do for his pleasure and, as I was discovering, my own, as well. He stood up from the bed, making waves in the water. Rob hit me then so hard across the buttocks that all air left my lungs in a surprised whoosh. I turned my face into the pillow and took it into my teeth, gagging myself with it so he couldn’t hear my pain.

This time was different for me. The phallus, the feeling. The total surrender of my body to the punishment that I was allowing him to inflict on me. He was hitting me harder than he had ever done before and it seemed like for longer too. I lost all self-control. I went totally beyond thought, trying to free my hands, but unable too. Yet, never using my voice to tell him to stop, it was too much.

I felt the pressure, building in my arms and legs. The fire on my buttocks, spreading its warmth all over my body. I gasped with the extent of his power over me in that one enlightening second and surrendered to it. Trying to pull air into starving lungs by raising my head. I tautened, bucking upwards and pulling on the bonds. Sensation sweeping over me and through me. Churning against the phallus impaling me and pushing me over the edge of the abyss. I came against the bed, beyond thinking. A low animal growl tearing from my throat as my body wrenched into heaven. Rob suddenly forcing his fingers into my sex as the last of my orgasm clenched around his hand. His soft reassurances breaking me open further.

I came while being beaten. I was annihilated on a spiritual level. How could I have ever orgasm while he was beating me harder than he had ever done in the past? Something had clicked into place inside my head. Some deeply buried connection between Pleasure/Pain was forged inside my head and I inexplicably started to weep. Deep quiet sobs as I realized what had been done to me with my complete cooperation. I was changed. Eternally and profoundly different from all the Vanilla people that I knew. I was weeping because I knew that the possibility existed that I could never go back to the way I had been. kızlık bozma porno

My arms were released and he pulled me up off the bed. Leaning me against the dresser that had the big mirror behind it. I looked up and saw my red tear-stained face reflecting back at me. When Rob leaned down to slide the phallus out of me, it resisted removal. He stroked my buns and told me to push it from deep within myself. I was bearing down against it with determined steady effort until I felt it being drawn out of me. Leaving me empty until Rob’s cock took its place roughly. His hands holding my hips steady against his driving jabs into my canal. Fucking me hard and fast. I was so open that it didn’t even feel unduly indelicate to me. He was stroking my wet clit at the juncture of my sore thighs. My backside burning from the beating he had just given me. His breath harsh, hot and animal-like against the back of my neck. Suddenly, he drove into me hard. Pinching my clit sharply so I came as well, to a lesser degree than before but still an orgasm.

Rob collapsed over my back, his breathing harsh. Cock still jerking slightly in reaction to our passion. His weight against me almost collapsing me to the top of the dresser. Gradually he came to himself and slipped his cock from my ass with a swift pull. Patting me gently and wiping the tears from my face. I closed my eyes and didn’t move, hearing the sound of his condom hitting the garbage can.

He took my arm and led me into the master bathroom. I was weak with exhaustion. My muscles pulling with hurt and exertion. I let him lead me into the bathroom and sit me on the toilet while he started the shower. He pulled me in. Washing my hair with rough hands, nice. Using ivory soap gently between my legs, slipping one soapy finger into my anus to get the lube out. He said something. “What?” I asked, and then gasped as he pinched one of the marks on my butt. I rested my arms on the tile.

“I didn’t tell you to speak, precious.” Oh, God, he wasn’t finished yet! His hands soaped my breast, tormenting the nipples. Taking care with every part of my body, leaving me squeaky clean. He stepped from the shower, letting me rinse thoroughly as he dried. When he took me from the shower he led me to the kitchen table and made me sit on the edge. “Don’t fuck with me, you know how I want you.” His voice was cold. My hands balled into fists as I lay back. He pulled my hips to the edge as he brought a ladder-back kitchen chair up between my spread legs to sit on. Close but not too close. I put my ankles into the notches on the back of chair, hating every minute of this position. Coldly reminiscent of a gynecologists office. The once a year torture that all women go through.

Rob opens the outer labia, heedless of my humiliation and dryness. His fingernails scraping against the delicate tissue roughly, yet deliberately. He spread my knees wider and played with me. Tracing the parts of me gently. Clitoris, urethra, vagina, anus. Slowly methodical. Tiny delicious pressure against the tender parts of me.

“There are parts of you that I have never explored, Anne.” I answered his comment respectfully. “I like watching you orgasm, but only when I tell you too.” Suddenly his hands had a meaning. I felt a tear well up in my eye. I was in trouble. He put his face against me, starting to eat me with expert flicks of his tongue against my flesh. He kissed my crotch tenderly until the juices started to flow again and I hungered for release. Rob stood up and slid his fingers into the willing tunnel. “You came without my permission. You ever come without my express permission again, and I will keep you like this for a month. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” I whispered absolutely miserable. He pulled away suddenly when my breathing deepened and the involuntarily clenching of my sex told him that I was really enjoying his attentions.

“Take your legs down. Go to the bedroom and wait for me on your side.” I did it. He came in and tied my arms to the headboard so I couldn’t take care of my hungry orifice myself. He lay down beside me and went to sleep.

Pretty prudent of him. I was tempted to relieve myself and would have done it if he hadn’t tied me. I’d done it before when I wasn’t secured this way. Taking some satisfaction in the fact that I was getting off in the same bed as a man that thought he controlled that kind of thing.

This was different because I was in such torment. Pain from my buttocks throbbing with my pulse cause a chain reaction to move straight through my sex. I needed more attention. Craved it and along with the craving I had questions running through my head.

How had Rob known that I would like this kind of sex? How had he known that I wouldn’t balk at the whips, chains and phalluses that he used on me? How did he decide to introduce me to this delicacy on the menu of sexuality?

It came to me suddenly. He didn’t know. He had studied me, worked köylü porno at my resistance. Figuring out how he could get what he wanted from me. My eyes caught sight of my riding crop on the floor. He had broken it while beating me. It’s expensive leatherhead hanging from the shaft.

I almost came just from the sight of it, then closed my eyes and shivered in fear. This is part of me now. The link had been forged between pleasure and pain. They were inexorably connected inside my head. I would never be the same again. >>>>

That was only one night of many. Routine and ritual Role-playing and rape scenes. Anything that Rob wanted I gave to him without question. Nothing he asked for repulsed or sickened me. At least, not that I ever let him see. Some of the things that he liked baffled me. Like his fascination with controlling my bodily functions, but since he liked it I let him do it. Sex was good with him. A head-trip as well as body. I found myself trying to please him. I was punished enough without deliberately courting disaster.

All good things must come to an ended however. Rob and I really ended on my 23rd birthday. He asked me what I wanted and I told him. I wanted one night on top. He was beautifully stunned by my request but he agreed. It was almost as though he simply could not believe that such a statement had come from me. Since he had mapped out my psyche. I could have no desire for such a thing. It was unthinkable. Surprise. I don’t know why he agreed, he was obviously uncomfortable with the whole idea, but he did. It was a real revelation for me. I liked it. I liked pushing limits. I liked having to pay attention to what I was doing, not just being done too.

It wasn’t a real good scene. Rob was uneasy and couldn’t really surrender to it. More importantly, Rob couldn’t take it. He balked. Suddenly, I was the one that had more self-control. Higher limits. I thought less of him for that. From that moment on I absolutely coveted punishment. Rebellion at every turn. I never even let him see me cry after that night. The frustration was driving him insane because I don’t think he could figure out what had happened. He just knew that every time he tried to knuckle me under, I stiffened my spine and took it. My seed of contempt had become a big old tree. His lack of discipline had broken the bond between us, forever.

He broke up with me, 3 or 4 months later. I wasn’t really sorry. He lacked mettle, you know? I just figured that a chapter in my life had closed and moved on. I’d just go back to the way I was before Rob and be okay.

I am okay but I missed something. The problem was that I couldn’t find it in the white-bread Republican world that surrounded me. I went out with a 32 year old virgin and married an abusive SOB that couldn’t figure out why I fought back when he attempted to do real violence to me. I rapidly developed backbone. Not something that I needed before then. It has, however, stood me in good stead.

P.D- post-divorce. I discovered that I was not the only pervert on the planet. They actually wrote books for people like me to read. Exit to Eden by Anne Rambling, The Story of O, The Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure. Pat Caliphia, Laura Antoniou. The whole gamut of sexual diversity available at the local bookstore for feverish reading at my home. Intoxicating.

It was while reading these books that I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Desire. Considering for the first time that this was why I was not satisfied with dating Vanilla men. I was not like that anymore. I was too hot for them. Too diverse. Too willing to explore the dark side of my sexuality.

My husband liked missionary style, period. I just assumed that the older you got. The more boring sex became and since I did not want to be boring. I would be alone forever. A martyr before the throne of business, neutered sexless.

The only problem was that I didn’t feel neutered I felt… horny. I didn’t want a 32-year-old virgin or a wife-beater. I wanted someone like Rob, or better yet. Someone like me. A focus for all this repressed sexual energy. I was only 27 years old.

Luck was with me. I found Eric. A 32-year-old artist. We car-pooled to college together. We were both older than the kids who went during the day and gravitated together. He was intelligent and funny. Eric was good to me.

One weekend Eric’s mom went away and he asked me to dinner. I got over there and we started to laugh. Having a riot and drinking wine, discussing the movies available for viewing. When, as though it was meant to be, we ended up on the floor. Kissing. We were pulling pieces of our clothes off, but when I reached for his zipper, he stopped my hand.

“I have a problem.” I felt my heart sink. I figured he was impotent, or HIV, something catastrophic. I schooled my features to neutrality and waited. “I have a real hard time reaching orgasm. Sometimes I can’t at all.” He looked embarrassed. “I want you to know that before we go any further.”

“Do you get hard?” He nodded, and I responded by reaching back down for his zipper. Let’s see how much of a problem it really is. Part of me thinking that a hard man that has a difficult time coming could be a lot of fun. I gave it a try.

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Muslim Lesbian Mothers

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


The universe definitely has a sense of humor, retired schoolteacher Adawiyah “Ada” Abbudin thought to herself as she walked through the crowded halls of the Eaton Shopping Center in the City of Toronto, Ontario. Coming out as a lesbian at the age of fifty four, after being married for more than thirty years and raising a daughter and a son practically by herself. Wow. Surprisingly, when she came out to her children, her sole supporter was her headstrong son Anwar, who remained steadfast in his defense of his mother’s right to choose her own path, never mind that it conflicted with some of Islam’s most sacred tenets. That’s my boy, Ada smiled to herself.

Truth be told, when Ada came out to her children, her eldest and only daughter Bashirah reacted exactly as she expected her to. Her son Anwar’s reaction she saw coming, though. Her sole male offspring Anwar wasn’t just the only lad in the family, he was also the Black Sheep, the rebel and the one constantly in need of mommy’s attention and care. Anwar had been a lot of things in his twenty three years. University of Toronto dropout, construction worker and now, security guard in the unsavory environs of Jane and Finch, in the “hood” of Northern York, Ontario.

Ada shuddered as she thought of all the times her only son had gotten into trouble. Anwar got busted for smoking weed in the washroom while in high school. He got arrested for shoplifting at Wal-Mart the summer after his high school graduation, though the charges were later dropped. The arresting officer, a blonde lady named Judith, chose to bring Anwar home instead of taking him to jail. Ada had been quite thankful for that, since she didn’t want her wayward anywhere near hardened criminals and the officer assured her that she totally understood. After all, she was a mother herself. Before leaving, the officer gave Ada her card and assured her that the incident wouldn’t go on Anwar’s record.

Anwar had been extremely lucky that night. Most Toronto police officers weren’t known to for their kindness toward visible minority males who broke the law, especially Black men and Arab men. Ada grabbed Anwar by the ear and told him that if he ever got arrested again, she wouldn’t speak to him until the day she died. The trembling young man nodded soberly, for he could tell his mother meant every word. After that incident, Anwar seemed to tone down his wild ways somewhat. He got a job working at Tim Horton’s for the rest of the summer, then started university in the fall. After three years at the University of Toronto, he decided he didn’t want to study civil engineering anymore and went to the City of Boston, Massachusetts, to live with Donna, a White gal he met over the internet. For eight months, no one in the family heard anything from him. One day, finally, he came home in tears. Apparently, things hadn’t worked out with Donna. She was not “the one” after all.

When Anwar came home that night, Ada had just gotten home after going to Masjid for prayer. It was raining, and she’d been too busy hanging her coat on a rack in the closet by the front door to notice Anwar, sitting in the living room, quietly sobbing in the dark. At the sight of him, Ada’s heart leapt with joy. My son has come home, she thought. Mama, Anwar said, smiling weakly as she approached him. She should have been mad. For eight months he didn’t call, he didn’t write, and he didn’t text or email, though Ada was no expert on anything related to the web. She did ask her nephew Mohammed to create a Facebook profile for her just in case Anwar decided to contact her, wherever he might be. For months, she hadn’t known whether her son was alive or dead. Now there he was, alive and well. Wordlessly she went to him and hugged him fiercely. Praise be to Allah, she thought. My son has come home alive and well.

Though she would never admit such a thing out loud, if Ada had a favorite among her offspring, it would be Anwar. He was the charmer, the prankster and also the moody rebel. He got on your last nerve but he also endeared himself to you. You simply couldn’t stay mad at him no matter what he did. Perhaps she’d indulged Anwar too much while he was growing up. Her daughter Bashirah she’d been strict with, of course. Bashirah was her daughter, and she had to protect her from the world, and from herself. Not for the first time she found herself fascinated by how different her daughter and son were from each other.

Anwar was tall, well over six feet, broad-shouldered and brawny, with dark bronze skin, curly Black hair and dark brown eyes. He was the spitting image of his late father Tamir, Allah rest his soul. Not for the first time Ada wished her husband Tamir hadn’t died in a hail of gunfire when the grocery store he worked in got robbed by some thugs. Ada vowed to protect her son and daughter porno from all earthly dangers. This she swore before Allah, on her husband’s grave. Like his father, he was impetuous and impulsive, but a gentle soul at heart. Her oldest daughter Bashirah was tall and slender, just under six feet. Like Ada herself she had light bronze skin, emerald and long Black hair. Her features were more “Western” than Arabian. For Ada’s mother, Beyza Feridun was a native of the City of Istanbul, Turkey. Bashirah was hot-tempered and fearless, and her voice was strident enough to make even Ada cringe sometimes, though she would never show it.

Bashirah was smart and ambitious, and always got her way. Ada never pressured her daughters to either go to Masjid or wear the Hijab. It simply wasn’t her way. Bashirah detested any type of “Muslim clothing” and was thoroughly westernized. Jeans, T-shirts and cowboy hats, those were her favorite things in the world. When she opted to study at the University of Calgary in provincial Alberta, Ada wasn’t surprised. While studying in metropolitan Calgary, Bashirah met a handsome young man named Suleiman Amare, an international student from Ethiopia. That her wild and thoroughly westernized daughter would find herself falling in love with a foreign-born Muslim man who was very traditional amused Ada. Yet another example of life’s supreme ironies.

Bashirah introduced Suleiman to her mother and younger brother during Christmas break of her freshman year at the University of Calgary. The tall, broad-shouldered and dark-skinned young Ethiopian Muslim student was very friendly and respectful. He wore dark blue Bisht robes and a Kufi hat. Around his neck hung a slender necklace with the colors of the Ethiopian flag emblazoned among its pearls. When Ada inquired about how they met, their answer surprised her. Apparently Suleiman was quite involved with the Islamic Students Association at the University of Calgary and had been handing flyers about interfaith dialogue on campus when he met the very lovely and secular Bashirah.

Upon being introduced to Suleiman that Saturday afternoon at the dinner table, Ada observed him carefully. The young man was smart, and earnest. He was respectful but always looked people in the eye as he spoke to them. When he addressed her, his tone was always polite and measured, but firm. When he spoke to Anwar, the man of the house in his late father’s absence, Suleiman spoke to him as he would a grown man, even though Anwar was still in high school. A very prudent move because Anwar was quite protective of his older sister, though he quarreled with her constantly over everything from the remote control to doing the dishes. Either Suleiman had an instinctive grasp of their family dynamics, or Bashirah made sure he’d done his homework. Ada suspected the latter, knowing how methodical her daughter could be.

Of what she saw of Suleiman so far, Ada was pleased, though she reserved judgement. This was only their first meeting, of course. And judging by the adoring gaze he cast upon Bashirah every time he looked at her, he was definitely in love with her. After that first meeting with the two of them, Ada waved Suleiman goodbye, then pulled Bashirah aside to have a word with her daughter. As usual, Bashirah was argumentative and opinionated. She started being defensive and hostile even before Ada uttered a word. Ada grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, and told her to shut up. Bashirah raised her eyebrows, and her thin lips curled in distaste.

Finally I’ve shut her up, Ada thought. She took a deep breath, then said what she came to say. Looking her eldest daughter in the eyes, Ada told her that Suleiman seemed like a nice young man and that if Bashirah wanted to be with him, she had no objections. When Ada said that, Bashirah suddenly gasped. She smiled at her mother with tears in her emerald eyes. Ada smiled, and tenderly hugged her frequent verbal sparring partner and eldest daughter. It was the first time they’d hugged each other in years.

For weeks afterwards, Bashirah would go on and on about how worried she’d been about how the family would receive her beau, the handsome Suleiman. Let’s face it, Bashirah said, a lot of Arab men have Black girlfriends but when an Arab lady goes for a Black man, even if he’s Muslim, people seem to get mad. They were sitting at the kitchen table, having breakfast. The Prophet himself said there is no race in Islam, Ada intoned. Many of our people forget that, and treat the Africans and others as inferiors. But not all of us are like that. With that, she gently squeezed her daughter’s hand and winked at her. Bashirah smiled.

Ada gazed at the throngs of mall goers, for lack of a better term. After leaving her native Morocco for Canada more than thirty years ago, anime porno places like shopping centers still had the power to amaze her. A young couple sitting inside the food court caught her attention. A young man of African descent handed flowers to his girlfriend, a chubby blonde-haired White girl. She blushed, and kissed him after practically snatching the flowers from him. Ada shook her head. The girl obviously had an appetite for a lot of things, not that her boyfriend seemed to mind. Ada’s gaze drifted from them to a young Black woman talking on her cell phone. The young lady’s outfit raised Ada’s eyebrows, and brought another smile to her thin lips. Red tank top and short blue skirt, in the dead of winter. This young lady was certainly adventurous, that’s for sure.

Ada continued with her little mid-afternoon stroll, and walked into a bookstore. She stopped at her favorite section, which featured the works of her favorite author. The famed African-American erotica writer Zane, author of Shame On It All and Ada’s all-time favorite book ( other than the noble Quran itself ) Purple Panties, an anthology of lesbian erotic fiction. Ada had devoured that book in two nights, reading it from cover to cover. The graphic love scenes both shocked her and appealed to her. This was lesbian erotica done right, she thought with a smile. That Zane lady really knew her stuff.

Of all the authors she read, and Ada read a lot, Zane was one of a few that she would actually like to meet, if she could. Zane and Stephen King, those were her favorite authors. Their incredibly vivid novels provided her with more than just escape, they transported her to other worlds. For a woman who spent most of her life as a housewife, caring for her husband and family, exploring other worlds and other ways of life, even if only in her mind, that really meant something. Ada continued with her walk, narrowly avoiding a young Caucasian lady who was typing in her cell phone instead of watching where she was going. Shaking her head, Ada rolled her eyes and kept walking.

Ada’s cell phone buzzed, and she smiled when she saw who sent her this latest text. It was from Anwar, and the message read “I love and support you mama “. Ada smiled, and sent him a smiley face, along with her sincere thanks. Two minutes later, her phone buzzed again. This text was from Bashirah. “Mom, I am sorry for how I reacted. You supported me when I decided to be with Suleiman and I want you to know that I support you in your choice of lifestyle.” Ada smiled, and looked at the sky through one of the mall’s mirrored windows. Will wonders never cease? She started to reply, telling Bashirah that her coming out as a lesbian didn’t change who she was, but instead she simply sent four words. Thanks, and I love you. Ada finally arrived at the Starbucks, where she found a familiar face waiting for her. The woman rose from her seat and went to Ada, smiling. Gently, Ada kissed the tall blonde woman on the lips and hugged her. Hello Judith, she said. Judith smiled at Ada, told her she looked good, and commented on the brand new hijab she was wearing.

I bought it yesterday, Ada said, smiling as Judith pulled a chair for her. The two women sat down, and held hands. A young Arab man wearing a waiter’s apron stared at them with undisguised animosity. In perfect Arabic, Judith asked him if he had a problem. He gazed at her, swallowed hard, and shook his head. Judith rolled her eyes, and smiled at Ada. The other woman laughed. It had gotten to the point that such reactions from outsiders when she was out with Judith no longer surprised or bothered her. The sight of a hijab-wearing Muslim woman kissing another woman on the lips certainly provoked reactions, from both Muslims and non-Muslims. Ada didn’t care, and neither did Judith.

Looking at Judith Rosenthal, the woman she’d fallen in love with, the woman who was her rock, Ada shuddered to think that if it weren’t for extraordinary circumstances, they never would have met. Years ago, they met when Judith, then a Constable with the Toronto Police Service, arrested Ada’s son Anwar for shoplifting at a mall. Judith, herself the mother of two young men, Adam and Ephraim, chose to bring the ruffian home instead of taking him to jail. Yeah, that was a long time ago but she never regretted that decision. Of course, back then, things had been so different. Judith was married to Jacob Rosenthal, a prominent Jewish lawyer from Mississauga, trying to balance being a wife and mother along with the demands of her job as a police officer. And she was also dealing with her repressed lesbian feelings, something no one knew at the time.

Years later, a recently divorced Judith would be recognized while on the subway train by none other than Ada, the mother of arap porno a ruffian she busted for shoplifting. All those years, and Ada never forgot her. The two women went for coffee, and became friends. Slowly, coffee dates turned into outings to movies and restaurants, and then these turned into more. Much more. The two women found themselves craving each other’s company, and began spending more and more time together. And just like that, they began dating. To say they came from different worlds would have been the understatement of the century. At fifty-six, Adawiyah “Ada” Abbudin was still in the closet and hadn’t had sex with anyone since her husband’s death, more than two decades ago. She focused on raising her son and daughter. She put their needs first, and sacrificed much for their safety, happiness and well-being. Along the way she sacrificed her need for companionship, denied and ignored her sexual feelings for women, and basically felt like the loneliest soul on Allah’s green Earth. Well, the day she ran into Judith on that train, it must have been fate at work.

How else could anyone explain it? Two women from different worlds, who had previously met, running into each other precisely around the same time both felt ready to start new lives. Sure, coincidences could and did happen, but sometimes, fate was at work. Ada thanked her lucky stars that she ran into the tall, blonde, blue-eyed and curvy Ottawa-born Jewish policewoman. Judith became her lover, her other half, and her guide into a whole new world. At first, Ada had been quite hesitant. Even though she admitted to herself that she was a lesbian and resolved to tell her son and daughter about her orientation at some point, she was still a devout Muslim who prayed five times a day and went to Masjid twice a week. She wasn’t ready for flamboyant parades full of masculine women and girly men carrying rainbow flags and singing Lady Gaga songs. Much to her relief, Judith told her that she wasn’t into THAT kind of stuff either.

Like Ada herself, Judith was a fiercely private person. The only people she came out to, other than her parents, were her beloved sons and Ephraim, who were studying at Seneca College. Judith was forty eight, and had recently gotten promoted to the rank of sergeant by the Toronto Police Service’s Major Crimes Unit. Not for her were the parades, the gay or lesbian bars, or other “obvious” aspects of the life. Now, she respected the rights of gays, lesbians and bisexuals to organize their own events, and their places of congregation. Lord knows the often persecuted LGBT community needed its own “safe places”. It just wasn’t for her.

To Judith, being true to herself meant admitting that she was a lesbian, at least to herself and her immediate family, and embracing someone like her who wanted to be with her. And that someone was Ada, a mother of two just like herself, and a devout Muslim who wore the Hijab and went to mosque often. That’s the woman with whom she cried out in passion while making love. The lady she enjoyed walking through the park with, hand in hand. Her sweet Ada. Ada was full of wonders. The passion that gorgeous Moroccan woman kept inside was amazing, and Judith considered herself lucky that Ada chose to share herself with her. And she wanted to be with her for the rest of her life. And now here they were, holding hands while having coffee and sandwiches at Starbucks.

With Judith by her side, Ada felt like she could do anything. Inspired by Judith’s brave example, Ada decided to come out to her son and daughter. When Bashirah rejected Ada for being a lesbian, which went against the principles of Islam, Judith supported her. Judith offered her a shoulder to cry on. When Ada, for whom family was everything, wondered at her purpose with her family divided over her sexual orientation, Judith stood by her side and promised her that Bashirah would come around. And indeed, Bashirah was slowly starting to come around. It came as a blessing in disguise that Ada supported her daughter when she decided to share her life with an African Muslim man, something unheard of in Arab families. Bashirah realized her mistake, and offered nearly unconditional support to her dear mother.

Joyfully Ada showed Judith the text message from Bashirah. Judith read it and grinned. I was right again, Judith shrugged as Ada hugged her happily. Everyone comes around, Ada smiled, clasping Ada’s hand tighter in hers. Ada looked around and frowned, which Judith took as their cue to leave. Time to get the heck out of Starbucks. They made their way through the mall, aware of people staring at them. They happily smiled and waved at the more offended-looking on-lookers. A hijab-wearing young Somali woman shot Ada a look of disgust as she nuzzled on Judith’s neck, planting a kiss there. Ada winked at her, and the young woman scoffed and walked in the opposite direction. Judith raised Ada’s hand to her lips and kissed it. Let’s go home, she said. Upon hearing that, Ada purred in pleasure, anticipating the passionate lovemaking to come.

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My Black Master

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I had just about given up on ever finding a man that would treat me like the fat pig whore I am. I am five feet two inches tall, 230 pounds, long brown hair, brown eyes, 40D, and a completely shaved cunt. Unfortunately a lot of men are not into BBW’s and the ones that are, are not usually into what I need. They just don’t understand my need to be treated like nothing more than a fat piece of fuck meat. I need to be called dirty filthy names, and also be forced to degrade myself, and tell you what a dirty cunt I am. I can’t help what turns me on sexually, and if you ever met you could never fathom my desires by sight. I am your every day person, and I am also a supervisor at work so I am the complete opposite in every day life as compared to my sexual needs. I keep this part of my life private to most people, and only truly reveal myself to a man that is willing to give me what I crave. A night, or many nights of being controlled, and used, and made into your personal whore. I had given up on this until now, and Carl. He is the forceful black dom that has contacted me, and seems to fit my needs perfectly. When I read his emails about how he wants to use and degrade me, my cunt becomes dripping wet, and when I see his picture I almost cum right there. He was handsome, sexy, and black and was seeking to own a fat pig whore like me. We exchanged many emails, and he described how he would train me to take his big black cock in all my holes, and beg for more. Eventually he said he would be sharing me with his friends, and I would be a whore for all of them, and he expressed his desire to see me have all my dirty pig holes filled. I would be a white pig for black cock, and as I should have protested, I readily agreed to anything he said.

Our emails progressed for about a month, and then Carl demanded to finally meet me, and use his meat. I was scared and excited at the same time, and I began to fantasize this black man forcing me to suck his big black pole. All I could think about was him filling me up, and stretching my holes making me scream. Carl decided we would meet this coming weekend, at his apartment, which of course made me nervous but agreed anyway. He gave me the address and I had two days to get up the nerve to actually go through with it. I don’t usually meet men online, but I was so horny, and needed a good hard fuck so my desires over rode my fears.

I did as Carl ordered in his email, and shaved my cunt nice and smooth for his use, and got dressed. Jeans and a t-shirt were fine he said, but no panties or bra. I dressed as instructed and headed to meet My Black Master. qiqitv.info

I arrived at his apartment building, and rang the bell for the apartment number he gave me. He didn’t say anything over the intercom, and just buzzed me in. As I rode up in the elevator I could feel my pussy getting wet, anticipating the evening’s upcoming events. I walked to his door and rang the bell, and a few seconds later the door opened, and I saw My Master, he was completely naked, and his cock was huge and rock hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off that massive black meat, when he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me inside his apartment.

“Get your clothes and let me get a look at you whore!,” he demanded.

“Oh Yes Master,” was my instant reply as I quickly got undressed.

“Wow!, you really are a fat white whore aren’t you?” he asked in a taunting kind of way.

“Yes Master, just a fat pig for you to use,” I said nervously.

“Look at that fat stomach, and legs, and your fat tits hang down like a fat pig!”

“Thank you Sir,” was all I could say.

“You should be thanking me for even agreeing to put my big black cock in your fuck holes!”

“Oh thank you Master for using my whore body, and showing me what I’m good for!,” I screamed in ecstasy.

Master then walked up behind me, and grabbed my fat tits from behind and began rolling my hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eventually pinching my nipples so hard I was moaning and screaming from the sensations I was feeling. He pinched my hard nipples and whispered in my ear how he owned me, and I was to obey his every command. He let go of my now sore nipples, and walked in front of me and began slapping my fat tits.

“You worthless fat whore, look at those fat pig tits bounce!” he teased.

“Thank you for abusing me Master!”

“Tell me what you are bitch!”, he ordered.

“I’m a filthy white fuck pig for you Sir!,” I moaned.

“That’s right cunt, and you better not take any cock in those holes unless I tell you to!”

“No no Sir, no cock unless you say so!,” I screamed.

With that he rammed two fingers deep in my soaking we cunt making me cum all over his hand. When my violent shaking subsided, he walked over to a table and opened a drawer and pulled out some things I couldn’t quite see yet. He walked back over to me and put a piggy nose on me, with piggy ears to match. He then ordered me on all four’s like a piggy waiting for cock. When I was in the position he desired, he squirted oil on my asshole, and slid in a butt plug with a piggy tail on the brazzers end. Little did I know, this black man was so turned on by me, and the fact I like his vile treatment, which only made his cock that much harder. He loved to treat fat white whores like animals. When he was satisfied I was ready, he walked across the room and sat down in a chair and told me to crawl to him, and suck his cock. He also ordered me to oink like a piggy while I did it. I thought I was going to climax right there as I began to crawl for cock. I felt like such a filthy whore, and a worthless piece of fuck meat, and I was getting more excited by the second.

As I approached his cock, he began slapping my face with it as he told me I was nothing more than holes to fuck, and use. I would do as I’m told, and he would refer to me as nothing but white pig meat. He then grabbed me by my hair and forced my mouth down onto his big black cock. I started licking the head of his cock, as I rubbed his balls. He was moaning, and obviously enjoying what my tongue was doing to his cock. I then took his black meat into my pig mouth, and began sucking up and down his shaft, taking a little more each time I went down. When he forced me down further I began to gag and choke, and he loved that. He really enjoyed seeing me gag, and choke as he forced fucked my mouth.

“That’s it bitch, take all of my black cock in that fat white pig mouth!”

I sucked his cock like a wild animal, with My Master calling me all the nasty filthy names he could think of. I sucked his cock for about ten minutes, and realized he was ready to cum, and I tried to pick my head up off his cock so as not to swallow it. To my surprise, and delight, he forced me back down on his cock and ordered me to swallow every drop of his black seed.

“Swallow my hot fucking load bitch!”

He held me head down on his cock until he erupted into my mouth, so much it was spilling out the sides of my mouth. My Master was yelling at me to clean up the mess, and when I was done to get up on the bed and spread my fat legs. I did as I was told, and I looked like such a dirty bitch on my back with my legs spread showing every part of my fat wet cunt. Master climbed up on the bed, and started rubbing my clit commenting on how wet I was.

“You really love this bitch, don’t you?”

“Yes Master, it feels so good, use me any way you want Master,” I begged.

“Oh yes piggy that’s what I want to hear,” he said pleased.

“I want you to use and abuse me, and make me your personal piggy slut!,” I begged again.

Master fake taxi porno then slid a finger inside my wet hole, and it slid in easily. As he fingered my cunt I was pushing further and further down on his finger trying to get every inch inside me.

“Oh it looks like my fat piggy wants more, doesn’t she?”

“Yes Master, please more fingers, fuck me good Master!,” I screamed.

Master then slid a total of three fingers up inside me, and also started squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples again. He worked his piggy like that until I was begging for him to fuck me.

“Do you deserve my big black cock, you filthy fat pig?” he asked.

“Yes Master, I will do anything you want please just give me your big hard meat deep inside my fat pig hole!”

He got up between my legs and slowly slid his hard cock in my cunt, and the contrast between my white skin and his very dark complexion was a huge turn on to watch.

“Oh yes you fucking worthless pig, I own you now bitch, you belong to me!,” he moaned.

He pounded into my cunt as I begged for more use, and degrading talk. He knew at that moment he had me, and I would truly do whatever he wanted.

“Cum for me piggy, cum all over your Master’s cock.” Without hesitation I did as I was told and went into a mind blowing orgasm, squirting my juices all over My Master’s big cock. He barely let me come down from my climax before I felt him rubbing oil all over my ass.

“Time for some anal training fat piggy!” he said laughing.

I felt the head of his massive meat at the my anal opening, and he slowly and gently slid inside my fat ass. I thought he would rip me apart, and when he picked up his pace I was screaming and begging him to stop.

“Shut the fuck up piggy, and take it!”

“Please no more!,” I screamed desperately.

“I will train you to beg for my cock up your fat ass whore!,” he promised.

“It hurts, please Master no more!,” I pleaded.

“Don’t worry piggy, I’m going to cum soon, right in you big fat pig ass!” he said.

I figured it was going to be easier to help him along then beg for him to stop, so I started begging for his hot load deep in my fat ass. Begging him to drop his hot load deep in my ass. Within a minute he was shooting his white cream in me, and even though it did hurt, it made me feel so dirty and nasty which I loved.

“You will need more training before I can have my friends fill your ass.” he said nonchalantly.

“Yes Master,” I answered respectfully.

“Get cleaned up, and get dressed and go, I am done with you for this evening. I will contact you when I want more of my pig.” “Also, don’t forget no cock in those fat holes unless I say so, understand?” he asked.

“Yes Master,” I said holding my head down.

“Good now go pig!” he bellowed.

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Scenes from a Marriage Pt. 18

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Sunday morning, after taking care of my morning routine and giving my son his tablet to keep him busy, I came back to bed to snuggle with my wife, as she’d ordered.

She considered trying to have a scene, but I asked if that was going to be feasible with our son awake. She agreed that I was probably right, so she told me that she would just play a bit now and that we’d have a real scene that night.

She unlocked me and had me take off my cage. She teased and stroked my cock with her fingers, and squeezed my balls a bit. She seemed to really like the way that made me gasp, so I knew that she was going to enjoy CBT, which was something we’d been talking about exploring.

She told me that she would leave me out of the cage all day today, so that she could tease me whenever she wanted. But she warned me that I was not allowed to touch myself, except for routine things like going to the bathroom.

Over the course of the day, she did reach into my pants several times to stroke me or squeeze my balls. It felt very strange being out of my cage after wearing it for so long, but I was really enjoying the attention she was giving me.

That night, after I put our son to bed, I went to put away the laundry while my wife finished something downstairs. She came up and helped me put away the last of the laundry, and then she went to the restroom.

She told me to take a viagra. I did and then sat down on our bed to wait for her.

She noticed me sitting there and told me to get out our new bondage board and all of the restraints that we’d bought for it.

I stripped, put on my collar, and then got out the bondage board. The board was something we’d ordered a while back but had only recently received and hadn’t had a chance to play with yet. It was basically a long rectangular board split into four sections, with hinges connecting the sections together, so that the whole thing folded up into a more compact form for storage. It was covered in sightly padded leather, and each section had a number of D-rings around the non-hinged edges. This meant that when it was opened up, there were numerous attachment points that could be used when restraining someone.

I laid the board out on the bed, then went back into our toy drawer for the cuffs. I got out a pair of leather bondage belts for my waist. We had also gotten padded leather cuffs for my wrists, forearms, and thighs. I had to go into the guest bedroom to get my ankle cuffs, which I had left attached to the cross.

“Should I get everything set up?”

“No, I want to do it.”

“Oh yeah, you want to be the one to restrain me?” I asked, loving the idea that she was so into it.

“Yeah,” she said firmly.

I smiled. “I’d like that. I was just thinking about putting the cuffs on me, and then you can attach them wherever you want them on the board. But I’m happy to let you do it if you want.”

“Oh, actually, that’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I put on all of my cuffs. It took me a little while to get the ones on my forearms on, since the leather was still a little stiff, but after a little effort, I got it.

Once I had them all on, I stood up and looked down at myself. It was kind of hot seeing myself naked with all of the cuffs on. I walked into the bathroom to take a quick look at myself in the mirror, and I smiled at what I saw.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Mmm, you look hot.”

I smiled at her. She seemed to be finishing up, so I went back into the bedroom.

“Mistress, which way do you want the board positioned?” I’d initially laid it out sideways across the bed. “Maybe I should just put it in the middle, so you can sit down wherever you want?”

She considered for a moment. “Yeah, let’s try that.”

“Okay.” I repositioned the board and lay down on it, getting a feel for how it felt. After a minute or so, I could feel my back warming up against the leather surface.

“I’m probably going to wind up sweating a lot on my back. I don’t think this surface is very breathable.”

Mistress had come back into the room as I was getting comfortable. “Do you want to put a towel under your back?”

“Oh, good idea.”

I laid a towel down on the board and then lay back down on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s much better.”

Mistress had undressed while I was doing that. She came over to see how I was positioned.

“Your feet are hanging off the end of the board. I think you need to move it further down on the bed.”

“My head’s already at the top, Mistress, so moving it down won’t really help. If I’m further up on the board, my head will be hanging off. It’s not as long as I am.” She looked a little disappointed. “I think you’ll still be able to restrain my legs, Mistress. If I spread them just a bit toward the corners, the ankle cuffs will be able to reach the D-rings. See?” I demonstrated. “Or, you can position me with my knees bent out to the sides, like this.” I demonstrated that position too.

She decided to just have my legs spread to the corners of the board. She bakire porno cuffed my left ankle to the corner and then pulled my thigh out to the side to attach the thigh cuff. Then she walked over to the right side of the bed to do the same thing to my other leg.

Next, I handed her the bondage belts. I had attached two of them together to form a long loop, so that we could run it through a D-ring on one side, over my stomach, through the D-ring on the other side, and then back over my stomach the other way to buckle into the other end. I showed Mistress how it needed to be attached.

“Oh, that’s very nice,” she said approvingly, tightening it down on me. “Is that too tight?”

I took a deep breath to make sure that I had enough room. “Maybe just a little looser, please, Mistress. We should probably err on the side of caution, since this is our first time playing with these.”

“Absolutely,” she said, loosening it just a bit. “How’s that?”

“Perfect, Mistress. Thank you.” I smiled up at her. “Now, how do you want my arms? Do you want them down my sides or up toward my head?”

“I think I want them this way,” she said, moving my right wrist up toward my head with my elbow out to the side. She quickly attached both my wrist and forearm cuffs to the D-rings on the bondage board, then walked around to the other side of the bed to repeat the process with my left arm.

As she attached the last of my cuffs to the bondage board, I could feel this intense combination of loss of control and arousal. I started to breathe deeply.

I flexed my arms and legs a bit, testing how securely I was held in place. I could shift my arms and legs a little bit, but no more than a few inches in each direction, and I certainly couldn’t get out without help.

I couldn’t believe how it felt to be so vulnerable, so helpless. Suddenly, I really wanted that feeling to be magnified as much as possible.

“Mistress, can you please put on my ball gag and blindfold?”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, slightly surprised.

“Yeah,” I replied a little breathlessly. “Please.”


She reached into our toy drawer to pull out several things. I saw her grab my blindfold, the ball gag, the clover clamps for my nipples, the magic wand vibrator, the feather ticklers, the crop, and the vibrating butt plug. As usual, I knew she wasn’t necessarily going to use everything she took out, but it was always interesting to guess about what she might do.

She reached over to put the ball gag on me. After she got it into my mouth, I lifted my head to let her buckle it behind my head. She seemed to be having trouble with the buckle, so I turned my head to the side to make it easier for her.

“Thanks, that’s much better.”

“I thought that might make it easier for you, Mistress,” I tried to say through the gag.

She laughed at how slurred my speech was through the gag. “It’s a good thing I understand you through that thing.”

She finished buckling it into place, and I turned my head back to look up at her.

“I didn’t want to make it too tight, since this is our first time playing with it. Is that good?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I mumbled through the gag. (I discovered later that it was actually loose enough that I could push it out of my mouth with my tongue, but I did that only when she couldn’t understand something I was saying through the gag.)

“Can you breathe okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then she put my blindfold on. Now I couldn’t move or see, and my speech was impaired. I felt really helpless.

“Mistress,” I again said through the gag, “can you please take a picture of me?” I really wanted to see what I looked like fully restrained and helpless.


She picked up my phone and took a few shots of me. Then she sat down on the bed to my left and started running her hands all over my skin, starting with my chest and arms.

“Mmm, I love seeing you this helpless. I can do anything I want to you.”

“Mmm hmm,” I agreed through the gag.

She moved her hands down my sides, over my abdomen, and down my inner thighs. I moaned and squirmed at the light contact as she teased me. I tried to thrust my hips up a bit to get her to touch my cock, but I couldn’t move very far in my restraints.

Then she reached for my balls, cupped them in her hands, and started squeezing them ever so gently, increasing the pressure slowly, moment by moment. I moaned at the sensation, caught somewhere between pleasure and pain. I loved the feeling of her fingers touching me, and my balls throbbed with a gentle ache as she tightened her grip.

Somehow, the emotional impact was even stronger than the physical sensation. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of powerlessness and submission. The pressure on my balls really drove home the fact that Mistress could do whatever she wanted to me, and I literally did not have the ability to stop her.

After a few moments, she released my balls. Then she pulled her hand back and gave them a light slap, making me jump evli porno in surprise. She slapped them a couple more times, then shifted her target to my cock, slowly moving her hand so that she hit further and further up my cock with each strike.

I moaned and tensed up as she struck my cock repeatedly. The sensation was maddening; it was definitely pain, not pleasure, but it somehow aroused me to know that she could do this to me.

Soon she stopped slapping me and started running her fingertips lightly over the skin of my cock, occasionally stroking it. I moaned in pleasure.

For the next few minutes, she switched back and forth between teasing me and stroking me with her fingers and slapping me or squeezing my balls. I was overwhelmed with sensation, never knowing whether the next moment was going to be pain or pleasure.

Finally, she took her hands off of me to pick something up, and a moment later, I felt the feather tickler running over my skin. She started on my chest, which wasn’t too bad, but then she started exploring other areas. She made me yelp and squirm when she ran it along my sides and up into my armpit, making her giggle at my reaction. A similar thing happened when she ran it across my lower abdomen right above my cock. And she made me shiver when she ran it up my inner thigh or over my cock and balls. She seemed to be delighting in my reactions, randomly moving around to different parts of my body, so that I never knew what was coming next.

After a few minutes of that, she put down the feather and started scratching her nails all over me. The switch from the light touch of the feather to the scratch of her nails was jarring, especially along my sensitive sides. Then she scratched over my chest, pinching my nippes as she passed them.

“Hmm, you know what these need?” she asked hypothetically.

I could hear her pick up the clover clamps. She fastened one on my right nipple, making me gasp in pain. But she didn’t give me a chance to get used to it before fastening the other one on my left nipple. I breathed deeply and tried to force myself to adjust to the pain.

“I do so love seeing those on you,” she commented, clearly loving her own handiwork.

As I was just getting used to the pain in my nipples, I felt the tip of Mistress’ crop on my chest, just above my nipple.

“Do you know what that is?”

“The crop, Mistress,” I said, my words still garbled through the ball gag.

“Very good.”

She teased me with it, running it gently over my chest and arms for a few moments, both of us knowing that she would soon be striking me with it.

When she thought I was relaxed enough, she pulled back and struck me on the right side of my upper chest. Despite knowing it was coming, it did surprise me, and I gasped at the contact. She followed it up with several more quick strikes on the same spot, hitting slightly harder with each strike, making me gasp as I felt each blow.

My skin was just starting to sting badly when she moved to the other side and repeated the same treatment. Then she started moving around randomly, giving me a few quick strikes in each spot before moving on, running the crop gently over my skin in between sets of strikes, so that I would never know what to expect.

Eventually, she tired of the crop, setting it down and reaching for something else. A moment later, I heard the sound of the magic wand vibrator.

She placed the head of the vibrator on my lower abdomen, right above my cock, and ran it gently from side to side, teasing me with it. I groaned in frustration, wanting her to give me more pleasure while simultaneously loving the fact that she was controlling my desire so easily.

Then I felt an intense sensation on the head of my cock. It was so pleasurable and so unexpected that it took me a few moments to realize what I was feeling. At first, I thought she had moved the vibrator to my cock, but I slowly realized that I could still feel it on my abdomen. That’s when I realized that she was sucking my cock!

The warm, wet, tight feeling of her mouth was incredible, and I moaned in pleasure, loving the gift she was giving me. But after only a few moments, she pulled off of my cock, sucking it as she withdrew, until the head popped out of her mouth with a snapping sensation. I groaned in disappointment, still incredibly aroused by the way she was playing my body.

Next, she moved the vibrator to my balls, moving it around my sack. The vibrations were intensely arousing, and I could feel my cock starting to stiffen in response. But somehow the sensation just made me long for more direct contact with my cock.

Finally, she moved the vibrator to my cock, running it up and down the bottom of the shaft. I moaned at the sensation, finally getting the direct contact I’d been seeking. I could feel my whole cock vibrating, and my arousal shot up.

She teased me on and off for a few minutes, holding the wand right on my frenulum for a few moments, then moving it up and down my shaft or sometimes removing fake taxi porno it completely for a few moments before bringing it back to pleasure me and torment me more. I was so focused on the sensations she was giving me that I don’t know exactly what reactions I was giving her, but I suspect that I was alternating between moaning in pleasure and groaning in frustration. It was incredibly intense, especially in combination with being fully restrained as I was.

After a while, she held the magic wand on my frenulum for longer, and it felt amazing! But suddenly, I could feel a spike in my arousal, and I was worried that it could drive me to an orgasm when she might not want it to.

“Mistress,” I mumbled through the gag, “you might want to back off if you don’t want me to cum too fast!”

“Maybe I want you to cum,” she said with a smile. But she did remove the wand, at least briefly.

“I… I want you to deny me, Mistress.”

“Maybe I don’t care what you want,” she said affectionately. “Maybe I want you to cum quickly tonight so that I can deny you for longer after that.”

“You can do whatever you want, Mistress. I just wanted you to know what I want. I’m supposed to be communicating that to you, so I am.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do. The longer you hold off tonight, the more weeks I’m going to deny you for after tonight.”

I moaned in arousal at the thought. “You mean like, for every minute I hold out, a week of denial?”

“Yup,” she said with a satisfied tone in her voice, putting the wand back on my frenulum.

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. I tried to process it, but I was distracted by the pleasure she was giving me. The temporary respite had lessened the danger of my immediately cumming, but my arousal was quickly building again, both from the vibration and from the way she was playing me like a fiddle.

At first, I think I had the idea that she might drag it out, teasing me but not letting me cum for something like 30 or 60 minutes. And as much as I do love her denying me, I wasn’t sure I was ready for that many weeks of denial!

“Mistress, are you sure it should be weeks? That would mean that if I hold out for an hour, that’s over a year of denial! I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Maybe one minute for one day would be better?”

“No, I said weeks.”

I was starting to feel a little panicky. “But Mistress, I don’t know if I can handle a whole year!”

I think she could see that I was panicking a bit, so she threw me a couple of bones. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t let you ejaculate the entire time; I just said I wouldn’t let you enjoy an orgasm. Maybe I’ll give you some ruined orgasms, just to relieve the pressure.” I groaned at that idea, still trying to get it through my head, still being distracted by the vibrations on my cock. “I tell you what, let’s see how long you actually last. If you do last a really long time, maybe I will reduce it to days. We’ll just have to see.”

At this point, between the intense pleasure she was giving my cock and my arousal at how dominant she was being, I was starting to get over my panic, and I could feel my cock throbbing in pleasure.

“Look,” she said sweetly, “it’s already been one minute. That’s one week of denial for you!”

I groaned in combined pleasure and frustration. I could feel my arousal building, and I had to decide whether to let the pleasure take me or whether I should fight it. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t know whether she was trying to incentivize me to cum quickly to limit the period of denial or whether she wanted me to last longer so that she could deny me for a longer period of time. I had no idea what she wanted.

“Mistress, do you want me to try to hold out longer, so you can deny me longer, or-“

She cut me off. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

I was still not sure that I knew how I could handle that long a period of denial, but I loved that she was telling me what she wanted, and I would do my best to give it to her. “Yes, Mistress. I will hold out as long as I can, even if that means-” I sobbed briefly “-a year or more of denial. I will do that for you.”

Somehow, knowing exactly what she wanted me to do helped settle me down. I was fully restrained and under her control, and I couldn’t stop her from pleasuring me, nor could I change the way my body reacted to her ministrations. The only thing I could control is my effort to hold out for as long as possible, so I focused on that and let go of everything else. It was an incredibly freeing sensation, giving myself over to her control, rejoicing in the way she played my body like a finely tuned instrument, knowing that I had no responsibility for anything except my own effort to obey.

I have read many stories by other submissives that describe this kind of feeling, and some of them have seemed incredibly moving to me, almost poetic. Now that I’ve experienced this feeling for myself, I wish that I could describe it as richly as some of the accounts that I’ve read. But unfortunately, I don’t think I am nearly as gifted at finding the right words as many other authors, and I know that what I’ve written here does not come close to capturing the reality of what I experienced that night. It was truly one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

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Mom’s Finding Joy in Slavery

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After coming home from college I saw for the first time my 39 year old mom was being concerned for the first time in years with her personal appearance for the first time in years even before her divorce. She was wearing her reddish brown hair long and wore a short miniskirt. She was very upbeat instead of being depressed as she had been since I was in high school before I went to college.

The day I came home she announced she was dating for the first time since her divorce. She asked me not to be shocked that she was dating a black man who was to come to meet her.

She put on her red miniskirt which contrasted well with her very white Irish legs. Her date arrived and sat on the sofa having a glasss of wine. Her skirt crept up almost to her hips. She had never worn anything like this before. For the last several years she was dumpy and dowdy. The change was remarkable. The most startling thing to an 18 year old son was when he put his black hand on her her alabaster thigh and stroked up to her groin.

They eventually went out to dinner and dancing. When they came back they sat in the living room and I was able to spy on them as they kissed and petted. Eventually Joseph told Mom suriyeli porno to strip and get on her knees and suck his cock. She immediately complied. This was one of the few times that I saw her naked. This was also a shock in that I doubt if she ever was that bold when she was married. Her nude very white body stood in contrast to Joseph’s black skin. She went to her knees and took his cock in her mouth and sucked with abandon. I a few moments they went to bed and fucked for an hour. All the time Mom was groaning loudly for more.

During my childhood and early adolescence I could hear my parents once in awhile having sex, but it was much quieter than now, with her black lover soon to be her master.

The next day she told me that I would have to learn eventually abouther new life. She told me that she was now Joseph’s slave as well as lover. She further asked me to take her to his apartment so she could clean and do his laundry. She offered to hire a cleaning woman but she said that her labor would reinforce her submission. When we arrived Joseph was gone. Mom opened the door and brought out the items needed to clean. She then stripped and put on an apron. twitter porno I saw that she had shaved her pussy due to Joseph’s order. As she finished cleaning Joseph arrived. Mom immediately dropped to her knees with her forehead on the floor to greet her master.

Joseph inspected and found a few deficiencies. He ordred Mom to bend over and grab her knees. He then used his belt five or six times on her ass. I had been warned that anything that occured was something she wanted. She then thanked her master for making her a better white slave. She then dropped to her knees and sucked his cock in front of me. I knew then that her change was permanent.

A week later I was asked to attend a ceremony by which a cult that Joseph belonged to would finalize Mom’s entry as a lifelong slave. I was asked to formally sell Mom since I was her only relative. I did it despite my reluctance.

The ceremony consisted of Mom dressed only in a cloth wraspped around her hips. She pledged to obey her master in all things. She then declared that her worldly goods would be given me to keep or donate except for a few items of clothing Joseph allowed her to keep.

The travesti porno climax of the event occuered when Mom was asked if she would accept Joseph’s brand with three separate hot irons. She said she would with joy. The marks all were in the shape of a spade as in the ace of spades. One was on her hip. The other two were on her thighs between her knees and hips. This signified that she was the black-owned white slave.

She came to her master’s home nearly naked to be aware of her total dependence and subjugation.

Seeing my Mom naked with her white skin was a turn on. I believed then in the Oedipus Complex.

After wards I talked with her and was told that her moods of depression went away when she acknowledged her white slavery to her black master. She was healthier and became more attractive and sexier. She was totally depndent on her master to sustaion life. This removed all reason for her to think and make decisions. She explained that she had a choice of having the sign of the spade as a tattoo which meant that she could be sold down the road, or if she endured the red hot branding iron that, according to the cult, she was Joseph’s permanent property. Thus, she chose to endure the pain.

She is now pregnant. She is assured that the child, expected to be a girl, would be born free. She could not be a slave because she was to be half black.

I have never seen Mom so happy. She spends most of the time on her knees worshipping her master’s cock.

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Prions R Us Ch. 01

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(Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Forward: A Quiet Beginning” in which I introduced the main characters. I halted my submissions because I was having trouble describing the characters. Since they are all based on friends and family, I tend to skip detailed exposition of my character’s physical and personality traits. My editor was my sister-in-law, who obviously suffered from the same malady. I would write using real names and places, then change to protect the identities. This piece was the first follow up to the “Forward”. My intent was to have a series of inter-related vignettes culminating in a multigenerational orgy. Anyway, I’ll give this a shot. Please check out the previous submission before reading this.)


Chapter One: Cards

Don Milner stepped out of the shower and looked across the small bedroom towards his wife Nanette. Although both were approaching their seventh decade, they both aged well. Don dried his slight frame that still held the hint of his lithe muscled past. His wife still had traces of jet black hair in her mostly silver, shoulder length hair. She had only gained a few pounds in their forty plus years of marriage and that was actually and improvement. Her trim body always seemed a little out of proportion to her large, pillow like breasts. Now, she was a little rounder, but still drew hungry stares from those who saw her. Since the barbeque at Alex’s a few weeks ago, a renewed sense of affection had been growing between the two of them. He found himself holding her hand as they sat watching television, or slipping his arm around her waist as they walked through the farmer’s market as they shopped for fresh vegetables on Thursday mornings. Passions, long dormant after almost sixty years of marriage, began to smolder and warm him more every day. He knew his feelings were reciprocated. She would curl up next to him on the sofa as he read the morning paper and let her lips brush the side of his neck as she snuggled.

They had not made love in, well, a long time. It was almost as if it were the first time when he had given in to the impulse to stroke her last week. It happened with the exuberance of youth, the joy of middle age love and the mature concern for one’s partner’s needs and desires. When they had finished, they lay together for long, languid minutes. Not wanting any thing to change the feelings they were experiencing, they barely dared to breathe. Everything was perfect. He listened to her shallow breathing in the dark, wondering how life could be any better when finally she stirred and she whispered to him, “There is something I have been thinking about lately. We need to spend more time with kürt porno those we love. I miss our friends. We have drifted some since Rob passed away and now Carrie is living alone. Can we see Carrie and the rest of the family again soon?”

He called Carrie the next morning and invited her to come out for dinner and an evening of bridge. He suggested that she have someone drive her to make it a fourth. And now he and Nanette were getting ready for a night of close companionship with good friends, old and new. When Carrie mentioned that she was coming with Joe and Mary Bryan, Don was uncharacteristically blasé about a fifth person at the bridge game. Normally a stickler, he said they could make adjustments. He liked the Bryans, whose daughter had married Carrie’s son Alex.

When the doorbell chimed, Nanette turned around and saw her husband standing outside the shower; she winked at him. He blushed as he realized his cock had begun to harden as he was daydreaming. “Put that away and get dressed for now.” She said, smiling. “I’ll try and help you with that later.” Don concentrated with difficulty on the task of getting dressed as Nanette went to greet their guests.

When Nanette opened the door, she saw Joe and Mary who flanked Carrie as she held her apple pie. She led them into the cozy home and offered everyone a cocktail. Don soon joined them and after some conversation they moved to the dining room for an early supper before cards. Don seemed slightly uncomfortable as they sat at the small, but elegant, table. With candles and fine china to complement Nanette’s gourmet meal the evening seemed flawless. Mary Bryan found herself looking at Nanette and Don to her right and thinking about how they were a very attractive couple. Then she looked at Carrie and Joe Bryan to her left and thought they were attractive also. Joe was telling a story about something funny in their past and Carrie was laughing. There was a buzzing in Mary’s ears, maybe she had too much to drink, but she couldn’t quite follow the conversation. Carrie kept reaching over and squeezing Joe’s hand. Once, Carrie dropped her hand and let it fall onto Joe’s lap. Mary could swear that Carrie squeezed a bulge in Joe’s gray slacks. Seeing that made Mary tingle a little. Joe and Mary had raised seven sons and daughters in a strict Catholic tradition. Now in their golden years, they spend their leisure time traveling to visit the children all over the United States. No longer does their youngest daughter, Eileen, compare them to a pair stepping out of a Grant Wood painting.

After dinner, Don suggested that they play cards before coffee and dessert. ladyboy porno Joe and Mary confessed they didn’t know how to play bridge very well. “How about poker?” Joe asked. Don said they had no chips and poker without wagers was a little boring. Nanette said “We haven’t played poker with Carrie since…” and then her voice trailed away.

Mary looked around and saw Don, Nanette and Carrie grinning. She and Joe were bewildered. Don finally let them in on the reason for the embarrassed smiles.

“About forty years ago, Carrie and Rob used to play bridge with us frequently, and there was also some heavy drinking involved. One night at their house we were going on pretty late. I was partnered with Carrie and she was not concentrating very well. We somehow got on the subject of strip poker and we all discovered that not one of us had ever played it.” Don continued. “So some one suggested we give it a try, and before anyone knew what was happening, I found myself dealing the cards.”

Carrie interrupted Don, “I remember that you dealt the first hand and lost. You took off your shoe. Nanette and I started joking when the men lost the first few hands. But over the span of the game, things tended to even out and all of us lost our share. Finally, the men were both down to their boxers and Nanette and I were in our bras and panties when some one chickened out.”

Mary asked “Who?”

Nanette took up the story, “It doesn’t really matter. When we brought it up much later everyone had an excuse as to why it was a good idea to stop. Carrie thought it was too cold, Don said he was tired and I pretended that I was afraid one of the three kids would wake up and find us naked. Alex was a junior in high school and the two girls were in high school and junior high. I think the real reason was we were afraid of the next step, whatever that might have been. So the night was incomplete…”

Mary spoke without thinking; “Lets complete it, then.” And with nods and shrugs, they cleared the table as Don began to shuffle the cards. “What happens when some one loses all their clothes, are they out of the game?” he asked.

Joe shook his head, “No, that might leave them out too long if they had a streak of bad luck. Let’s have them continue to play, but if they lose all their clothes, they have to pay with a dare. Okay?” It seemed like a good idea and nobody objected.

Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be fairly relaxed as the cards fell. There were some good natured disagreements as to whether rings and watches counted as a piece of clothing, but it was agreed that they were not. As the game progressed and most of latin porno the players had lost their outer garments, Joe began to talk about apple pie and said that he hoped everybody got naked soon, so they could have dessert. Mary just sighed and said, “Joe, you seem to love that pie more than women.” Everybody laughed.

Nanette was the first to lose her bra. As the most endowed woman at the table, it caused everyone to pause. But there were no crude comments, only loving compliments and Nanette felt a little proud and very glad she was sharing with such good friends. She wanted to hug every one of them, even to kiss them. Even to hold them, to gently caress them. She imagined how it would feel to have Don and Joe teasing her nipples with their tongues. Or maybe have Don make love to her as Carrie and Mary kissed her nipples, which were becoming hard as her skin warmed… “Hey Nanette, are you dreaming?” Joe asked. “It’s your turn to deal.” And she picked up the deck, prepared for the next hand.

Joe was the first to lose his final piece of clothing and Carrie was next. She offered to put on the coffee and Joe stood as she went by. Impulsively, she reached over and let her finger glide along his stiff penis, from base to head.

Don and Nanette stripped down as they lost the next two hands, and now Mary was alone wearing a piece of clothing. She had lost her panties and kept her bra. As Don dealt the cards, she dropped her left hand below the table and rested it between her legs. Her fingers began to probe, and she became wet immediately. Nanette lost next and the first dare was to kiss every man at the table. When she got up, she said she was an equal opportunity kisser, and first gave Don a loving kiss. Then she moved to Joe and sat in his lap as she gave him a kiss with open mouth. She then moved to Carrie and said, “Let’s show them how it’s done.” With that they embraced and began to tease each other with lips barely touching until they couldn’t restrain themselves any longer and openly displayed the passion they felt inside. Finally a kiss for Mary so brief and tender that it seemed to be almost a fleeting illusion. Afterwards, Mary lowered her lips to Nanette’s breast and returned the kiss.

Now it was Joe’s turn to lose. Before anyone could dare him, he said, “I hope you give me a dare that lets us eat that apple pie.” Mary became exasperated and told him, “Oh just fuck the pie! And when you finish, we can just all eat the remains off your dick!” she turned to Nanette and told her that Joe was talking about the pie all night and she was a little tired of it. Then she turned back to Joe and said, “Now, what dare shall we give you?”

Carrie smiled and said, “He already got his dare, didn’t you, Joe?”

Joe slowly stood, his cock thick and long, turned and walked into the kitchen. Mary took off her bra and said, “Games over, I guess. Looks like we found out the next step. Hope everyone’s hungry.”

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