8 comments/ 168119 views/ 86 favorites Neighborhood Butt Fuck By: bbonz1 To the reader: Sometimes it's fun to just explore a story premise without getting too involved in character development and motivations. This is one of those stories. Tom looked at his wife on the floor next to their bed. She was naked, her skin gleaming in the artificial light. On all fours, her ponderous tits dangled invitingly, and below the broad expanse of her round ass, he could see the tight pucker of her asshole and the full lips of her shaved pussy, ready and waiting for whatever might come their way. Poised above her, like a spider about to inject its prey, a man carefully adjusted his positioning so he could mount her without losing his balance. The appendage between his legs was already thick and hard, the sac behind it ripe and ready to explode. "Lube," Tom said. It was a statement, not a question. A subtle reminder to the man that he could ravage Angela all he wanted, and all she wanted, but wasn't allowed to hurt her. At least not permanently. "Two drops," the man grunted, his tone flat. Tom reached between them and carefully let two drops of the viscous fluid drip into the tight crevice of her anus. They used an especially thick lube so it wouldn't get quickly swept away, leaving her vulnerable to raw rubbing. Two drops was enough to ease the penetration, at least at first. That was satisfactory. His wife looked back at him, anticipation written all over her face. She smiled seductively and nodded back at the man perched above her butt. The movement caused her tits to sway and shudder, and his own dick twitched with desire. It was her tits that first attracted him to her, and her tits that he would fuck later that night. The man could have her ass. He didn't know what he was missing. The man finally appeared ready to begin. "Pictures? Or movies?" Tom asked, though it had been clear from the man's entrance into the room that he wasn't interested in a porn shoot this night. Still, given the choice of continuing to watch the TV show that had been on when the man first burst into their bedroom, and watching his wife get ass fucked by that big, fat cock, he'd take the latter. And if he was going to do that, he might as well record it all for viewing at a later date. "Either," the man replied, his voice still flat. He was clearly ready to begin and not in the mood for such frivolities. But, it wouldn't have been good form to completely ignore Tom. He was, after all, providing the use of his wife for the greater good. Tom grabbed the pro-sumer camera they'd recently purchased. It took excellent close-up pictures in poor lighting, but also took great movies. He could switch back and forth as needed. He was glad he hadn't decided to oil up and jerk off while they fucked in front of him. Then he'd have to wipe all that oil off his hands. No point in getting the camera all slimy. Without looking back to see if he was ready, the man dipped his body down slightly, until the tip of his cock just filled the crater of her anus. Then he lifted it out, the mushroom head now sparkling with the thick lube that had transferred to it. Tom got a good shot of that, a calm prelude to the violence that was to come. * * * Alcohol had been at the heart of it. The imbibing of too much of it. He'd been drunk. Very, very drunk. And so had said far too much. The bi-weekly poker game had been winding down, with all the guys taking a last break before finishing up the night with one last round of hands. Tom could still see the scene in his head, though who said what was a bit unclear. One of the guys had just finished a particularly raunchy joke about a man assfucking his wife, when "That sounds like my wife" had come completely unbidden from his mouth. "That sounds like your wife?" someone asked, a bit incredulously. It was here, Tom knew, that he still would've had a chance to salvage it. "No, I said, 'That sounds like your wife,'" would've been a completely acceptable answer. Or, "No, I didn't say anything," would've worked too. But what he answered instead was, "Yeah, that sounds like my wife. She wants to get it in the ass every day. And frankly, I'm getting sick of it." The room had suddenly gone quiet, with all the guys listening to see just how deep a hole he was going to dig for himself. "Every day?" someone prompted. There was no way they were going to let this tidbit pass unexamined. "Yeah, every day," he replied morosely. "She's a nympho. Every man's dream, right? Except it's a sickness, and she won't take the drugs, and not going to cheat, so I gotta take care of her needs every day. And every day she wants it in the ass. Every. Day. And toys don't take care of it. It's ev-er-y day. And I don't even like anal all that much." He ran out of breath, his diatribe over for a minute. "Bullshit!" someone had called out. "There's no such thing as nymphos, right Raj?" They all turned and looked expectantly at Raj Beruj, the M.D. in their little group. Raj was just as drunk as all of them, but he managed to summon up a bit of professional demeanor. He wasn't a psychologist, but he was a general practitioner, and he did occasionally avail himself of the medical journals on sexual maladies and treatments. "No, it's not bullshit," he pronounced gravely, using his best professional voice. "It's not like in the movies, but there is a segment of the population that does suffer from nymphomania and its symptoms." He was especially proud of himself that he hadn't stumbled over any of the multi-syllable words. "She's been professionally diagnosed, then?" "Yep. Psychiatrists and medical doctors," Tom answered, not at all caring about who overheard the conversation now. "And she won't take the medication?" Raj continued the interrogation. It was part of every doctor's trade: keep asking questions until you get to the root of the problem. Even when drunk, that training came through. "No, she says it makes her tired all the time." "Yes, I've heard that," Raj replied. He hadn't heard that, but sometimes it was best to just agree with the patient. He was about to ask another question when someone else piped in, "Shit, Tom. If you need some help in that area, I'd be glad to volunteer. My wife hates taking it in the ass!" The room went totally silent at that. These kinds of conversations didn't happen among men. They'd let Tom go on because, well, he was drunk and it'd be funny to see what he said next. But for someone to confess something about their own wife? It just wasn't done. You could talk about wanting to butt fuck some celebrity, or someone they all knew. You could suggest someone else go fuck themselves. But you didn't reveal something about your own marriage like this. Anyone who'd been sober, though there weren't any in that room, would've felt the conversation teetering on a precipice, like a sled on the edge of hurtling down a snow-covered mountain. "Mine either. And I could do it every day," Sal the real estate agent piped in. And the whole sled plunged down the mountainside. Jack confessed that his wife would never do it in their house, even when the kids were away. Mark's wife Stephanie, who had one of the most gorgeous butts anyone had ever seen, would only go anal on special occasions, like Mark's birthday or their anniversary. Raj's wife, who was supposed to be more compliant in the Indian culture, had gone American and was exercising her rights to say no. Even Tony had confessed to being less than happy with his access to his wife's ass, though it had taken some harsh prodding to get him to join in the confession. In fact, they'd had to pressure him pretty hard, invoking the 'we've all said something so now you have to' rule in order to get past his strong Italian pride. They'd gone back to playing cards then, and Tom had good-naturedly taken all their ribbing about being so anal about stacking his chips and washing his hands after playing and putting his fingers in places where they don't belong. And he'd staggered home up a few bucks and giddily happy because of that. Angela was fast asleep when he got home and he was happy he wouldn't have to try and get it up, cuz the alcohol was making his head spin. The next day was Saturday, thank the lord, and it wasn't until his head stopped throbbing that he remembered what he'd said the night before. He knew right away that he'd have to tell Angela. The rule at poker was "What happens at poker night stays at poker night." But that would only last until some guy would get frustrated at his wife's refusal to have anal sex and blurt out, "Well Angela loves to get it in the ass," and then the wife would demand an explanation and the wives would get hold of it and his wife would be the object of all their scorn and derision. Tom chose his moment very carefully. They'd had a good day together, doing chores, heading out for some shopping and getting a bite to eat at a neighborhood restaurant. Now they were curled up together on the sofa, in Angela's favorite position to relax and watch TV. He had one hand inside her sleep shirt, where he gently stroked her warm breasts. And his other hand lay in between her legs, so he could gently stroke her wet pussy lips. Her hand, as usual, was nestled inside his sweat pants, cradling his cock and balls almost protectively. It was one of their favorite pre-fucking rituals, and as was the custom, he'd taken a little blue pill to ensure that he stayed hard all night long. He'd even decided in what order he'd fuck all her holes, but not where he'd leave his first cum shot. That always depended on where she begged for it the most. He pressed his fingers just a little deeper into her pussy, almost but not quite entering her vagina. "Ange," he whispered, his breath soft on her neck, "something happened at poker last night that I have to tell you about." "Oh, did Melissa finally give you that blowjob you've been dreaming about?" she asked brightly, squeezing his cock tightly. "No," he laughed softly, "she wants to wait until you can both suck me," he lied. "To finally see who gives a better blowjob." She licked her lips lasciviously. "Tell the bitch to bring it on. As long as I get to keep the cum." He pressed his finger deeper into her cunt, imagining the heaven of having two women sucking his cock, each trying to outdo the other. He was tempted then to leave his news for another day, and get on with the hardcore fucking he longed to give the wiggling, sexed up woman in his arms. But, he didn't want to forget and have that come back and haunt him. "No, my little minx. It wasn't about blowjobs. But it was about sex." He told her the story then, about what he said, or at least what he could remember, and how ashamed he was that he'd told a bunch of relative strangers their bedroom secrets. Her eyes turned grave and her expression serious as she turned to face him. He braced for the worst, but was surprised by her words, "You know, I'd take them all in the ass, if that's what you wanted. Dear, I know that you don't like anal as much as I do. And that usually you're just doing it to help me keep my condition in check. And I love you for that. But if you wanted to give me to them, I'd do it in a heartbeat. With your permission, of course." "You don't, you don't have to say that," Tom stammered, taken aback by the seriousness of her offer. "I like what we..." "No," she interrupted him, "you don't always like it. I've known you for seven years and been married to you for five of them. You like to fuck. But you're a tit man and not an ass man. I've known that from the beginning. So if you want to give me to some other men to satisfy my perverted needs, I'll love you for it." She squeezed his cock hard. "And if you want me to, I'll suck him first." She squeezed again, her fingers pressing around his sac. "And I'll take him in my cunt, so he can get nice and juiced up," she purred. "And then I'll bend over and he can ream my ass with his hard slippery cock, and coat the walls with his cum, and I'll do it all for him because you say it's okay. And I'll take all your poker buddies in the ass, anytime of the day or night, however they want it. That would be sooooo hot!" With that, she rolled off the sofa, pulled off his sweats and wrapped her lips and tongue around his throbbing cock. While she sucked vigorously at him, his mind swam with images of various guys fucking her in the ass, right in this house, right in this room. And the cum spewing across her face and down her throat and dripping onto her tits. He gasped, brought back to the present, when his wife pushed his legs higher in the air and she put her tongue against his own anus. "What would my lord and master like me to do next?" she asked seductively, rubbing the tip of her breast along his anus and up against his cock. The lord and master game. That was one of his favorites. He spied the dining room table in the other room and all of his previous plans went up in smoke. Bending her over, fucking her holes, slamming into her violently, that was looking very good right now. And maybe he'd leave the lights on so the neighbors could see their silhouettes as he raped his wife in the ass. * * * The next poker game was worse than the last, as the guys all had two weeks to save up some jokes and ribbing. Jokes about one in the pink and two in the stink flew around the table, and Mark even found time in his busy day to have two special cupcakes made: one that looked like a woman's ass and one with a licorice stick cock. When he pushed one into the other, the whole table erupted in raucous laughter. Tom took it all until he could take no more. "All right, funny boy," he snarled at Mark, when the room finally calmed down a bit. "It's time for you to put up or shut up. I told Angela about your little offer, and she thinks it's a good idea. So whatcha gonna do about it now, funny boy?" he challenged. "You... you told Ange about it?" Mark stuttered as the room grew suddenly quiet. "But what happens in this room..." "Stays in this room," Tom finished for him. "Yeah, I know the rules. But I've been married long enough to know not to leave my wife hanging out in the wind. All it would take is one wrong remark from you bozos and Ange would be getting all kinds of weird phone calls with no idea what was going on." He paused to stare down each of them in order. "Besides, she thinks it's a good idea. So, is anyone ready to man up and take her up on her offer?" The silence continued. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Tom said, turning his attention back to the cards in his hand. There were no more jokes that night. * * * The cock continued to press insistently against his wife's tight anal ring. Iron hard rod versus small ring of tight muscle? Tom didn't need to be a scientist to know what would win. He steadied the camera and got ready to record the ultimate penetration. He didn't have to wait long, as the man leaned his weight down, forcefully pressing his cock into Angela's ass. She had reached back to spread open her ass cheeks, and Tom got an exquisite shot of the mushroom head disappearing into his wife's barely lubed anus. Angela moaned, deep and low in her throat, then pressed her ass upwards, as if to give the man an even better target for his lance. So encouraged, the man slowly pushed his cock deep into her channel, her asshole tightly constricting every inch of him as he passed inside her. Finally his balls smacked tight against her ass, the whole eight-inch length of him buried inside her. Tom wondered whether the man could feel any walls with the tip of his cock, the way Tom could when he fisted his wife. Probably not, he decided. Her bowels were not built to the same specifications as her vagina. Tom knew what would happen next before it even began. Sure enough, the man pulled all the way up and out of his wife's ass, making her gasp, before placing his cock back into position to slowly penetrate her anus again. He'd do that 10 or 20 more times, apparently getting as much pleasure from conquering her ass over and over as he did from actually fucking it. This time he pulled out after each of 11 strokes, before burying himself inside her and beginning to fuck her with real intent. This is what Tom had been waiting to see. Not only did he like to see another man's cock pistoning in and out of his wife's ass, but he also liked to watch what the violent attention did to the rest of her body. The way her entire being instinctively tensed against the unnatural invasion. The moans, mewling and gasps she cried out as the man's repeated penetration pushed her to greater levels of pleasure. And the mesmerizing flopping and flapping of her big tits, as the action at the rear of her vibrated through her core to be seen in the erotic motions of her breasts, dangling, shuddering, slapping and bouncing. Tom turned his attention back to the dick that was now rapidly fucking his wife's ass. She was loose enough now that her anus no longer caught on the cock ridges as it slid in and out of her. If he pulled out now, she'd be gaping open. But this particular man wasn't turned on by looking into a wide open asshole. He was much more concerned with simply fucking the living daylights out of her. When he fucked her in the ass, Tom only rarely used the doggy position. He preferred to put her face up on the sofa, her legs cocked up and out of the way, so he could have free access to both her fuck holes. He liked how her anus stayed tighter for longer, and how easy it was to dip his dick into her cunt whenever he needed some extra lubrication. If the man ever felt the inclination to change holes right now, Tom knew that he'd find his wife's pussy to be flooded with molten hot pussy juice. Hot enough to tempt even the most dedicated ass man to spend some time banging her cunt. But rather than trying to make it last, the man turned his jackhammer onto high, pounding at her ass with a evil ferocity that threatened to push her straight over. Then, suddenly, when it seemed inevitable that her bowels would be coated with a thick stream of scorching cum, the man pulled out, his cock sparkling in the light. Quickly, without waiting for the order, his wife spun around on her knees and faced the man, his cock just inches from her face. "Kiss my balls, you fucking cunt slut bitch!" he commanded, his voice growling with menace. Quickly she leaned forward to comply, kissing his ball sac with the same heady passion she'd kissed her husband only hours before. "Harder! Faster! Lick it! Suck it! Cunt! Whore! Slit! Ass whore!" The orders and insults rained down on her, each one seemingly fueling her motivation to perform better, faster and more passionately. Ferociously she sucked and licked his throbbing cock, coating it with her dripping saliva. She held her breath as he grabbed the back of her head and forced her to deep throat him, spit dripping onto her tits when he finally pulled out. Again and again he crammed his cock into her throat, sometimes pinching her nose shut so she couldn't breath, only releasing her head when she gargled her frantic pleas against the shaft of his cock. "If you want this cock in your ass again, you know what to do!" he snarled at her as she knelt quivering and sniffling before him. Without even a single glance at Tom, she dropped her torso to the floor and began desperately kissing and licking and worshipping the man's feet, her husband just inches away and completely forgotten. * * * Tom was preparing to cut the grass when Mark appeared, his ancient Yorkie dog trailing disconsolately behind him. Tom knew something was up, because Mark lived several streets away and to Tom's knowledge, had never, ever walked the dog this far before. Heck, the thing was on its last legs and could barely walk around its backyard. They talked for a few minutes about sports and the local high school teams before Mark got to the point. "Is Angela around?" Neighborhood Butt Fuck Ch. 02 To the reader: Still no character development, but lots of nasty ass action. Hope you enjoy! * Crouched on all fours, desperately licking the feet of her tormentor, Tom's wife Angela resembled nothing more than base animal, a bitch in heat trying to gain the favor of the pack's alpha male. Said male towered over her, his large cock stiff as an iron rod and just as unforgiving. "Get up slut! And put your mouth to good use where it matters!" he commanded harshly, reaching down to grab her hair and bodily pull her up to her knees. Tom watched intently, on the edge of intervening until he saw the shiver of pleasure run through his wife. She liked it rough and a little hair pulling wasn't going to phase her much. That would barely register a three on her rough-o-meter. Now his wife, only a foot or two from their marital bed, put her cock sucking skills to use on the man's shaft, licking, kissing and nibbling it as if it was a gift from the gods that deserved abject adoration and worship. Normally a man would require a bit of a blowjob to help him regain his erection. But not this man. The blow he was receiving was just another way to use and degrade the woman at his feet. And to give her loose ass some time to tighten back up a bit. Finally tiring of the cock and ball worship, the man reached down and grasped each of her tits in his meaty hands, pulling her to her feet before roughly bending her over the bed. With her head only inches from his own stiff and leaking cock, Tom considered pulling her face into his lap, so she could suck him while the other man attacked her other end. But he decided against it. Let the man have his power play. It was, at best, just for show, and both men knew it. Angela's body was only available because Tom was allowing it. The man stepped up behind his wife's butt and painfully spread the ass cheeks apart before using his thick thumb to probe her puckered asshole. Apparently satisfied that her muscles had tightened sufficiently, he leaned over and drooled a gob of spit onto her anus. That was one thing Tom found a bit foul. They had all kinds of lube all over the house, including a bottle within easy reach. Why did so many men feel the need to use spit as a lubricant? Were they lazy? Or was that just another way to show their dominance? Either way, Tom thought it was completely unnecessary. If you're fucking a woman up the ass, you're pretty much in the most dominant position you're ever going to achieve. At least in his book. The massive cock head once again lay poised in her crack, ready to ream and ruin the entrance to her bowels. The spittle would be barely enough to help such a thick spear enter such a tight hole. Still, Tom was willing to just watch it happen. It would only be a temporary pain, and sometimes it was as satisfying to hear his nympho wife keen in discomfort as she got what she'd been begging for. Her heavy tits dangled just above his lap and he wouldn't even have to stretch out his arms to take her shuddering udders into his hands to squeeze and milk them. He desisted, though. Her sweet fun bags would be his for the rest of the night, after this man had gone back to his own wife. And then Tom could teach her tits any lesson that he wanted. Her anus resisted just a little bit against the intrusion of the thick cock head. Just enough for the ring of flesh to press inwards a bit, creating a crater of stretched skin. Then the cock poked through, smoothly sliding inside like the tip of a knife that has finally pierced a bread crust and found the soft doughy interior. Clearly the small amount of spittle wasn't enough to truly ease the way because as the cock penetrated inside, her anal ring tugged downward, causing her to cry out with every passing inch. Finally the man was ball's deep inside his wife, his mass of curly pubic hair mashed against the smooth skin of her ass cheeks. Tom didn't bother to look at the man's face, knowing what he would find there. Instead, he studied the scene before him. The throbbing, thickly veined cock. The heavy balls constricted against the pelvis. The welcoming curve of her ass, and her equally welcoming cunt peeking out from below. And the juncture at which cock had penetrated ass, the dirtiest and most condemned of acts, occurring only inches from his face, enacted by his wife and a friend. And he felt only sexual excitement, without the least bit of jealousy. Was that the power of the butt fuck? A triumph of his mind over what mattered to society? Or a simple perversion that was only now rising to the surface? * * * Just 24 hours after Angela had hosted Mark and proven that she was indeed willing to attend to the ass-fucking needs of all the men in her husband's poker group, Dr. Raj appeared on their front porch. Tom was a bit surprised. Of all the men in the group, he'd thought that Raj was perhaps the least likely to be interested in such a deal. After all, both he and his wife were from India, and weren't the women there supposed to be naturally subservient to the men? When Raj came in the door and started talking to Tom about medical research into his wife's condition, Tom knew right away that it was all a ruse. Raj was pretending to help Angela, and maybe he really did want to help, but only after getting a sample of her tight ass. He interrupted the doctor only a minute into the lecture. "Raj, you're preaching to the choir here. I've done all the research and talked to all the doctors. I know what needs to be done to start treating her nymphomania. Hell, that might not even be what she has. This could just be a symptom of OCD, or ADHD, or any number of psychological things. But in the end, the person you need to talk to is Angela. She's in the back of the house, on the computer. She knows that you know, so it shouldn't be too awkward of a conversation. Here... I'll take you back." Angela looked up brightly as Raj came into the room, and traded a secret but knowing glance with her husband. Raj was like most Indian men that she knew: small in stature, dark skinned, thin, and with a precisely sculpted face. His movements were precise too, as if he was consciously thinking of where to position his limbs before making any movements. "I've got some stuff to do in the basement," Tom explained to both of them. "Ange, just give me a yell if you need something. But make it a loud one. You know how I like to crank up the stereo." They all laughed at that, with Raj commenting that his wife complained about the same thing at home, even though they all knew that his admission was a polite but blatant lie. Still laughing about it, Tom headed to the basement while Raj and Angela made for the family room. Angela let Raj get comfortable on the couch tried to listen closely as he started relating the research he'd found, but she'd heard it all before. Whatever caused her to want sex all the time, and to get so extremely turned on by anal sex, wasn't going to be found in a bunch of medical journals. And all the drugs they'd given her were good at dampening the symptoms, but left her feeling tired, grouchy and depressed. It just wasn't worth living life in the throes of depression just to "cure" her condition. She knew that Raj had come over for another reason, but like many intellectual men, and she had known a few, he was becoming caught up in his own need to lecture and teach. Moving over to sit next to him on the couch, she pretended to inspect the documents he'd laid out on the coffee table. "Hmmm. I see," she commented, laying her hand on his knee. "But I have a much easier way to get some relief from my condition," she said in an even tone. "What gives me the greatest relief is getting a cock inside my ass. Is that something you can help me with?" She smiled at the shocked look on his face, and before he could even form the words to protest, she kissed him full on the lips. It wasn't but a couple of seconds later before he was kissing her back. He smelled heavily of cologne, and tasted heavily of exotic spices. She could tell immediately from his demeanor that she'd have to take all the initiative, and so, leaning into him, she took hold of his hands and placed them deep within her cleavage. He quickly got the point and began kneading her flesh, at first softly and reverently, and then with greater and greater lust. She guessed that wasn't too surprising. His wife had very small breasts, and big titted American women were an object of desire in many other cultures. When she popped her tits out of her top, he voraciously devoured them, sucking great gobs of her titty flesh into his mouth, chewing on her nipples and cramming each boob as far into his mouth as he could. She let herself be swept along by his lust, thrilling every time he caught hold of one of her nipples and worried at it with his teeth. But when she reached down to undo his pants, he pushed her hands away, standing and pushing his pants and underwear down himself. His cock was small and thin, mostly hidden by the huge mass of dark and bristly pubic hair. When she bent over and tried to take him in her mouth, he stopped her. He displayed the same reaction when she tried to finger his erection. Instead, he rubbed his member up and down her cleavage, slapping her tits with it until he was fully erect. She soon came to the conclusion that he didn't want to get fully involved in the moment. That made things a lot simpler. She didn't try to remove his shirt, and quickly stripped out of her clothes. Naked on the couch, her breasts beginning to redden from his rough handling, she wasn't quite sure what to do next. Normally she would suck his cock for a while, play with his balls and maybe even rim him, if he didn't seem too squeamish. Then she'd offer her body up as his sex toy, letting him do whatever he wanted in any or all of her holes. But with this tightly controlled man in front of her, she wasn't sure what the next step should be. He stood over her for a long moment, inspecting her critically. She'd been looked at by men many, many times before, but never like this. It was as if he was categorizing every inch of her body, every feature, and matching it against an ideal found only in his mind. It made her feel very uncomfortable, like a bug on a microscope slide. "Show me," he ordered clinically. She knew exactly what he wanted and spread her legs wide, then spread her pussy lips open with her fingers, two at the top and two at the bottom, so he could see inside her wet cave all the way to her cunt hole. He leaned down and looked into her, not touching her, and again she could feel the categorization going on in his mind. Once again she felt strangely violated, which was ridiculous because he was about to violate her in a much more graphic way. "Very well," was all he said after he had finished inspecting her fuck hole. Then, without any verbal direction, he positioned her on the sofa so that her ass hung just on the edge and her legs were racked straight up in the air, jackknifed to the point that he had clear access to both her cunt and her anus. With her legs tight together, it would be a very tight fit for him. And a tiring and fairly uncomfortable position for her. Plus, how would he be able to enter her with her body at that height? He'd have to crouch down way too far. But her ass was too high for him to kneel on the floor. She got her answer when he grabbed a couple of cushions from the chairs in the room. Stacking them on the floor, he knelt on them and suddenly she felt his cock head resting just outside the entrance to her ass hole. Fortunately, he took a moment to squirt some lube on her from the bottle on the table. Then, with no fanfare at all, he pressed his cock smoothly and slickly inside her waiting anus. She moaned in a way that was both a gasp and a sigh. Unlike other positions, in this one she could feel the whole length of his cock inside her bowels, the sides encasing him tightly like the skin of a sausage. She peered past her legs to see his face but found it completely inscrutable. In fact, he even had his eyes closed. He began stroking into her then, smoothly, methodically, without any haste or wild bucking. He held this hands behind his back, so that the only contact between them was at the meaty point where his cock skin met her anal ring, and the occasional time when his groin lightly slapped her ass cheeks. Understanding came to her in a flash. He was using her like a living, breathing sex toy, nothing more. Like a mannequin with exceptionally hot and slippery parts, or a very advanced sex doll. She wondered what he was thinking about as he mechanically fucked her ass, his eyes closed and his mind apparently elsewhere. Then she realized how little it mattered. If he could be that way, so could she. Closing her eyes, she began to play one of her favorite fantasies. She was still on the sofa, still being fucked up the ass by a stranger. But surrounding them were friends and neighbors and family, all watching intently as he humiliatingly penetrated her ass, and making comments about her slutty body and disgusting morals. Right in front stood her step-brother, his thick cock hanging outside his ever-present sweat pants, a jewel of pre-cum decorating the massive pee slit. All around her, her women friends were being felt up by their husbands, and she could see fingers disappearing into trimmed pussies, tits slipping out of bras and panties dropping to the floor. Back behind the press of bodies, she imagined that she could see her girlfriend Janie entertaining two men, greedily sucking one's cock while the other roughly groped her big floppy tits. From the crowd came a murmur of whispered suggestions, shared between lovers, punctuated by lewd suggestions aimed at her and her dirty lover, who continued to ream her ass even as the insults rained down. She was just getting to the exciting point where the phone cameras came out and her whorish behavior was captured and shared throughout the world, when she felt Raj pull his thin cock out of her ass. When she tried to see what he was up to, he gestured at her to shut her eyes again. Working only by touch, he had her spread her legs wide and hold that position, her feet waving in the air like and upside down crab stranded on a beach. Did he want to fuck her pussy now, and leave his load inside her? She got her answer when she felt a familiar wetness just above her pussy patch and dribbling up toward her belly button. After the initial gush, she felt drops here and there, and she imagined that he was milking the rest of the cum from his dick and dripping it onto her body. As if to confirm her suspicion, he wiped his cock across the inside of her thighs, leaving a gooey streak across the skin. She heard some rustling and then his voice from above her, "Open your eyes." She blinked up to see him towering over her, already dressed. He studied her again with the same clinical precision as before, with no expression crossing his face. "Don't move or clean yourself up until after I leave," he instructed. "I'll get with Tom to make an appointment for next week." And then, without a single backward glance or a thank-you, he strode down the hallway and out of the house. Angela looked after him, puzzled by his behavior. She shrugged inwardly and then smiled. She wouldn't move or clean herself up. Not quite yet. "To-oooooommmmm!" Angela's cry echoed through the house. Tom took the stairs two at a time. He'd been waiting for that call, half wondering and half knowing what was going on in the room above his head. He barely paused when he saw his sexy wife splayed out on the sofa, her body bare and her legs wide apart. It took only a few long strides to bring him next to her, and he gazed down in wonder at how Raj had left his wife. Her pussy lips were swollen and beet red, as if she'd been spanked there repeatedly. Moreover, her entire cunt was slick and glistening, whether with his sweat, her sweat, her cum juices, or a combination of all three, he just couldn't tell. More amazing, and intriguing, was the large pool of jizz that now glazed her tummy. She hadn't touched it at all, and only a few drop had begun to spill down her sides, covering parts of her waist with a gooey, slimy trail. It would be a shame to waste all that cum, he decided. In seconds he had his pants off and his heavy, swollen cock was soon dangling in front of him. Angela's eyes lit up at the sight, but he knew she'd be even happier when he revealed what he had in mind. But first, there were promises to be kept. "You owe me a story, bitch," he ordered, reaching out to pinch and tug on her still erect nipples. He listened in fascination to the whole thing. The clinical way Raj had treated her. The mechanical way he had fucked her. The shape of his cock. How it had felt upon entering her asshole. And how good it had felt to finally feel his sperm squirt all over her stomach, the steaming hot liquid spewing over her skin, leaving her as messy as a Bangkok whore. By now Tom's cock felt hard as steel, and the pressure in his balls had built to volcanic levels. Kneeling on the sofa, he carefully swiped his rod along her tummy, covering it with the other man's jizz. Angela gasped when she realized his intent, then moaned gutturally when he moved, not toward her waiting cunt, but up to her greedy mouth. He teased her for a moment, grinning while a couple of drops slid onto her face, then directed her to lick all that cum off before allowing her to suck on his dick. She frantically complied, using her lips to suck every drop from his rod, and then employing her tongue to lick every inch clean. He dipped back down to the pool on her stomach three more times, wiping up every drop and feeding it to his nympho wife. By the time he was finished, she was begging him to fuck her, with her legs spread wide enough to hurt, and her demeanor as submissive as a beaten slave. With no more lubrication than her spit and what was left of Raj's cum, he split her open with his spear, entering a cunt as hot and tight as any he'd had in a long time. He fucked her then. Fucked her with abandon and animal intensity. Fucked her and imagined her giving her ass to Raj and then to all the guys in the neighborhood. With every stroke he fucked her harder, until his body slapped against her clit in a wicked rhythm, and she came with a torrent of "fucks" spewing from her mouth, even as his cock slit spewed a torrent of cum across the walls of her cunt. * * * The man pushed Angela back down onto all fours and, grabbing a handful of her hair, pulled her across the floor to the other side of the bed, like a dog owner dragging a recalcitrant pet away from a mess. Tom had a proper collar and leash in the bedstand next to him, but he wasn't about to share it with anyone. His own sexual needs had gotten much darker since Angela had become the neighborhood butt fuck. Yet Angela had yet to complain, not even a little bit. She liked being treated as a pet as much as she liked being treated like a slut or a slave. Which was to say that she loved it. The man lay down on the bed in the same spot Tom's wife had occupied before this session had begun. Tom could really smell the sweat on him, mixed with the musky odor of intense sex. The man's cock was still at full mast and stuck up from his body a good eight inches. Angela climbed astride him, facing forward in the classic cowgirl position. As she crouched over the upright shaft, preparing to let herself down on it, Tom grabbed the camera. This would make a great shot for the movie he was editing: An extreme closeup of the cock entering his wife's pussy. Or better yet, her asshole, with her pussy open, fluttering and slick with juice. As she began to set herself down, the man moved his cock just a little to the rear. He was indeed going to take her in the ass again. And Tom would be getting an ant's eye view of the whole penetration. Perfect! Neighborhood Butt Fuck Ch. 02 To be continued... Neighborhood Butt Fuck Ch. 03 (c) 2012, Bbonz1 To the reader: Once again, there is little to no character development, except as it serves to help the story progress. There is lots of raunchy sex, vulgar talk and gratuitous violence. So, as always, if that's not your cup of tea, better just head to another story. Don't write me outraged comments. It won't help. * * * Tom supposed that some men might feel outraged to have their wives fucking other men in the neighborhood. That one or two might resort to physical violence if they found their wives sucking a stranger's cock in their house. And that a typical husband might shoot a perpetrator who had the audacity to bang his wife in the ass while in the couple's marital bed. And that was just what Tom was about to do. Shoot his wife, and her lover, just as he was about to penetrate her in her anal canal, the one place that was supposed to be reserved for a husband who has laid claim to a woman. He held his hand as steady as possible, centering the crosshairs on just the right spot. And then fired off a burst of about ten shots, the camera's shutter drowned out by the piercing wail from Angela's lips, as she settled her ass onto the massive cock below her. He pulled back from the full zoom, framing the next shots to take in the man's shaft, his wife's vacant yet swollen pussy, and the way her anus puckered inward as the rod penetrated deeper and deeper into her most forbidden hole. As he watched, he imagined what it was like for the head of that cock, having broken past her defensive ring, now probing inside her bowels, in a world of dark that might only be illuminated if, and when, the cock left her confines and her gaping hole admitted some light. But before that would happen, there would be more invasions. Repeated invasions. * * * Angela lay on the bed with her nighty pulled up past her voluptuous breasts, and her panties pushed down around her ankles. She felt pouty as she slowly skimmed her fingers over her pussy. It felt good, but it just wasn't the same. She'd asked... no, begged Tom to fuck her that morning, playing the coquette, then the slut, then the slave, but to no avail. He had a meeting and he wasn't going to be delayed. She understood his reasoning. Tom did have to keep his job. He couldn't stay home all day and fuck, however appealing that might be to her. And even if Tom's boss did know of her condition, he was unlikely to cut Tom any slack. The man's wife Marjorie was a frigid as they come, and he surely wouldn't give any quarter to a man who was freely getting what he couldn't get himself. All that didn't mean that she didn't have the right to pout. Tom got to go off and do interesting things. While she was stuck at home with an aching pussy, relegated to stroking herself for a few tingles of pleasure. She might try a toy and a porn movie. Maybe some big black cock ripping open a tiny teen girl. But she had the feeling even that wouldn't be exciting enough. It was ridiculous! It had been almost two days since Tom's friend Raj had visited for a free fuck. And the same two days since Tom had skewered her right after Raj. A woman shouldn't have to wait that long for some well-deserved attention! The doorbell rang and she had a thrill of hope that Tom had changed his mind and returned. No, that was dumb. It was his house. He didn't need to ring the doorbell. It was probably some roofing salesman or delivery guy or maybe just a neighbor. Just as she'd decided to ignore it, the bell rang again. Persistent bugger. She'd need to answer it. Hurriedly, she pulled up her panties and pulled down her nightie. It was completely sheer, of course, clinging to her breasts and hips like a second skin. Exactly what a woman wore to seduce her husband. Not that it had done any good. She threw a short robe on and cinched it tightly. No free looks at her tits. But whoever was at the door was welcome to ogle her bare legs and feet. She opened the door to discover Tom's friend, Sal. She knew instantly why he was on her front porch. The thought made her wet in a way that her stroking had failed to approach. "Sal! Come on in," she invited, holding open the screen door so that when he entered, he'd have to brush past her body. Sal stepped inside, his face unreadable except for the calculation in his eyes. "Tom's not home, you know," she said as she closed the door behind them and followed him into the adjacent living room. "I know," he replied in a warm, friendly way that did nothing to reveal his intentions. "It's one of the perks about being in real estate. Don't have to show up at the office at any set time. I'm free to go where I want and do what I want." Angela watched him closely, wondering if he was trying to make a point, or if he was even flirting with her. There was something strange about his face. And something very strange about his eyes. Almost like he could see into her soul, but he wasn't revealing anything about himself. Like looking at a wall and wondering what it was feeling. She wasn't sure she liked this. Normally, she could read men like a book. Just looking at them she could see their wants, needs and desires. And then she would decide how to play it, whether she would be direct or demure, whether she would take the lead or allow herself to be led. But Sal already had her feeling off balance. And the conversation had only gotten started! "Can I get you coffee, or, uh, something?" she stammered. She shook her head. What was going on here? She was usually so sure and smooth with men. So quick with the quip. So why couldn't she get it together and get on with the flirtation? "Robe." Just that one word. It wasn't a question, nor a demand. Just a statement. Not even an answer to her question. Just a word, thrown out there. His presence seemed to fill the air, and her knees literally trembled as she finally met his cool gaze. She suddenly felt like a school girl, unsure of where to put her hands or how to stand or even who she was. In his face she read that he wasn't going to say it again. Her hands, of their own volition, undid the tie so the sides fell open. No, that wouldn't be enough, she knew immediately, without his face so much as twitching. Hesitantly, almost shyly, she shook it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. As she stood there, she was suddenly aware of her near nakedness. Her large breasts straining against the cups of her nightie, her areolas clearly visible through the sheer fabric, the nipples like pebbles at the top of each solid mound. The tightness along her stomach and waist, accentuating her womanly shape. The open cleavage and low-cut back blatantly inviting his gaze. The short, frilly hem that ended just below her pussy, a superfluous layer of gauze that barely concealed her now pulsating slit. She was aware of all that, but now, upon thinking about her panties, she became intensely aware. The high cut that revealed the flesh of her thighs and ass. The tight fabric between her legs, puckering and creasing with every shift of her body. The elastic that was the only barrier between covered and uncovered. And how, suddenly and unexpectedly, the thought of being uncovered felt scary and dangerous. "Panties." Again, just a single word. Neither hard nor soft. Neither demanding nor requesting. Just a word, spoken by that presence. She realized that she could no more defy it than she could order her own body to stop breathing. Even as she thought that, she found herself pushing her panties to the floor, joining the robe that had arrived there in the same fashion, as a result of his bidding. The air felt cold against her bare slit, even though it was warming up outside. The fringe of fabric along the edge of the nightie ended just below the valley of her pussy, not covering a single thing from his penetrating gaze. Her ass, too, was more bare than covered, and she felt more exposed than if she'd been completely nude. Shockingly, she realized that his presence was so commanding, she would be standing there ready to do his bidding even if her husband hadn't provided the approval. No wonder he was so successful in real estate. Sal studied her, taking in every detail as she stood before him displaying some trepidation. He'd known that simple, direct and almost ominous orders would work on her. It was the way of big breasted women. They used their tits to draw in the weak-willed men, those who would allow themselves to be led, or those who couldn't resist. And then the woman would play her games. She would direct the action. Offer her body. Or allow herself to be taken. Even in the throes of passion, she would take comfort in her ability to be in control. Because she had the tits. And the guts to use them to her advantage. He'd watched Angela play fast and loose with men's attentions during the pool parties they'd attended over the summer. The suggestive looks. The revealing poses. The outrageous flirtations that could so easily be explained away as a result of too much to drink. She was so easy to understand. And so easy to manipulate. "Knees," he stated simply. As she sank to her knees, he committed every movement to memory. He had an eidetic memory, not really photographic, but he could remember details of events well after they'd occurred. He still remembered, in exacting detail, everything he and his wife had done on their honeymoon night over eleven years before. Including her gasping orgasm when he'd entered her asshole. Angela, he noted, was as beautiful nearly nude as he'd imagined her to be in her bikini during those pool parties. She'd shaved her pussy bare, save for a small, thin patch just above her dark slit. Her pussy lips were full, the soft mounds thick for someone that slender. He was pleased to see that her pussy was all contained inside; he didn't care for the ones that stuck out too far. He found her waist very appealing, marking the perfect transition from the curve of her hips and the curve of her breasts. Her tits were most impressive, more than a handful that stood up and away from her torso, as if lifted by an invisible bra. That could be the result of implants, he reminded himself. But that was something he'd be checking, personally, in just a few short minutes. She had a long face, enhanced with open, Midwest beauty, the kind you only found in girls born and raised on a farm. Her hair reached down to her shoulder blades, and he could easily imagine it swirling across his chest as she rode his cock to oblivion. She knelt, arms at her sides, aware that he was inspecting her but unable to meet his eyes. Never before had she been this intimidated by a man. Not even her first boyfriend, all those years ago, when she was so young and innocent. He stepped up to her, his frame filling her field of vision, and nudged her breast with his knee. That was, she surmised, a signal to start. With trembling hands, she carefully unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his jeans and pulled the waist down. His shorts followed his jeans down, leaving his cock exposed and quivering. He was uncut, the foreskin still concealing his cock head. It had been a long time since she'd had an uncut dick in her hand, since her college days, in fact. But some things were just like riding a bike, when muscle memory took over. Grasping the shaft firmly in one hand, she encircled his cock with the fingers of her other hand, then steadily pulled the foreskin back. His cockhead was bulbous and red, almost angry looking at having been forced out of its sheath. Even as she held it, the shaft grew stiffer and longer. Though neither the thickest nor longest cock she'd ever seen, it had an impressive heft that made her wet with anticipation. Sal's ball sac matched his cock, and the muscles in his thighs held the promise of a vigorous fucking ending with a huge load of cum somewhere on or in her body. She felt his hand lightly tap the back of her head and took the cue, taking him into her mouth. He tasted slightly of sweat mixed with soap, but that taste quickly disappeared as she covered his rod with her saliva. Eagerly she ministered to his fuck stick, licking and kissing it, rubbing her lips along its length, striving to show that she was worthy of providing a temporary home for it inside one of her three tight holes. At another tap of his hand she bent her neck and pressed her mouth all the way down to his groin, deep throating him. His cock filled the whole of her throat; if not for being able to breathe through her nose, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all. She relaxed her jaw, trying not to gag, although her throat convulsively collapsed on the snakelike intruder. She held the position as long as she could, challenging herself not to pull away until the very last second. Sal almost collapsed to his knees as he felt her throat convulsing around his dick. He could feel her tongue rasping along the bottom of his shaft, while the sides of her throat caressed the head as thoroughly as a woman giving him a handjob. He'd never been able to go this deep with his wife. Her gag reflex was just too strong. But Angela took him like a champ. He was almost ready to stake her to the ground and fuck the living daylights out of her. But there was a matter to be attended to first. "Top," he stated, pushing her head back and denying her any further taste of his cock. She understood immediately, pulling the offending top up over her head and negligently tossing it away. Standing over her, he could see that her tits were just as intoxicating as he'd imagined. He could barely keep himself from falling atop her and raping her writhing body. Instead, he shuffled backwards and sat down on the nearest sofa, beckoning her forward. Obediently, she crawled forward, her tits swinging and swaying below her like udders on a cow. As she approached him, he bent down and grabbed a tit in each hand, jerking her forward and up into a sitting position. Then, wordlessly, he pulled her forward until her lips were once again in contact with his cock. With another jerk to her tits and he was back in her mouth, her lips encircling his thick shaft and her eyes glazed with a primordial pleasure. He watched her work at him, pausing only once to invite her to lick his asshole, a task she performed with obvious pleasure. What would it be like to have a sex toy like this available to him every day, he wondered. Clearly, she would do anything he told her to. And there was clearly no part of sex that she wouldn't do, especially if it got a cock in her pussy or ass. He liked women who got the idea of quid pro quo; if I do something for you, you'll do something for me. And if what I'm doing for you makes me happy too, well, that's great for me. Most women didn't get that. He stripped off his shirt, and with a nudge of his knee, indicated that she should strip off the rest of his clothes. She did so with a businesslike efficiency, then lowered her mouth back onto his cock, licking and kissing the tip before sliding her lips down the underside until she could reach his balls with her flaming hot tongue. He'd been pacing himself, reveling in the moment and the anticipation of things to come. But that time was over. Using the big toe on his right foot, he nudged it against her swollen slit. "Lay back," he ordered, smiling as she immediately rolled onto her back and spread her legs for him. His cock, already hard as a rock, seemed to stretch even larger as he dropped to his knees between her legs, then lined up his shaft just above her pussy, like a pole about to be fitted into a socket. * * * Tom watched as Angela's ass took every inch of the man's cock, as easily as if he'd pushed it into a bowl of butter. Now he could see, from the look on her face, that she was giving as good as she was getting. She had great control of her ass muscles, and was even now clenching and unclenching her anal ring, in effect massaging the hard shaft even as it plunged in and out of her dirty hole. His wife grunted in time with the man's frequent and insistent penetrations, her butt both accepting and resisting the snake delving deep inside of her. Tom wondered if she had properly prepared for the intrusion. Had she taken an enema to clean out her bowels? Or was that cock meeting the resistance of some hard packed shit? The first time he'd felt that, he'd been grossed out. But after a couple of times spent fucking her anally, he'd found that the idea of it kind of turned him on. He was fucking her dirty shithole. And like an animal, nothing was going to stop him. There were even times, after his cock had crammed itself into a wall of shit, that he'd pulled out and made her suck his cock in some ass to mouth action. He never asked if she tasted poo on his cock. But if she did, she would learn better to keep herself clean. The man reached down and pried open her cunt so Tom could take some pictures of her split open pussy dripping above the cock buried in her ass. Despite not wanting to be photographed, the man did have some perversions that he would allow to be caught on camera. One of his favorite statements was that he came over for an ass fucking, and an ass fucking was what he wanted. If she wanted to get her pussy off, then she'd have to get some other man to do that for her. Angela's cunt literally dripped as the man held it open, her cunt odor wafting through the room. She wasn't stereotypically fishy smelling, but she did smell and taste somewhat pungent. Tom knew that the more she got worked up, the sharper her tang would be. And she smelled very sharp already. Tom leaned in and took a few super close pictures of the inside of his wife's juice covered pussy. He already had plenty of pictures of it; he'd once spent an entire evening photographing her most intimate parts in all their spectacularly close-up detail. For the photo examination of her cunt, he'd used spring-loaded clothespins to pull her pussy flaps open, and kept them open with strings tied to the bed posts. Any movement by her would tug on her sensitive lips, giving her a sharp shock of pain. She quickly learned not to move at all, even when he inserted a clear tube to let him look all the way into her uterus. After thoroughly exploring her cunt, he'd jerked off and shot his cum down that tube, squirting it inside her without giving her the pleasure of feeling his cock ram inside. The pictures of her, spread open, with a cum smeared tube inside her cunt, even now caused her to beg for a fucking every time she saw them. Tom wondered if the man would be interested in exploring Angela's ass with that very same tube. He'd never thought of that, but made a note to try it one time. The thought of her, bent over and with a tube sticking out of her ass, was a very compelling fantasy indeed. For now, though, he'd have to content himself with the sight of his slut wife bouncing her ass up and down on top of a slick fuck stick. Her tits jostled rhythmically with every stroke, and her long hair bounced with almost as much vigor. She had her eyes closed, a sign, Tom knew, that she was concentrating on the sensations of the cock inside her anus, touching its walls, stretching its muscles, punishing its rim. He laid aside the camera to watch for a while. Some things are just best enjoyed in person. * * * Sal wasted no time and slid himself into her steaming cunt until his pubic hairs ground against hers. No, steaming wasn't the right word for it. She was volcanic. A blazing hot hole of slick liquids and throbbing walls, all conspiring to encase his manhood in a tight cocoon of pleasure. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her cunt to show that she was his for the taking, she wanted nothing more than to have his cock ramming into her. She couldn't believe how completely he filled her. How his cock, while not the biggest she'd ever had, so forcefully filled out the contours inside her cunt, taking her and telling her, without any words at all, that she was his to keep and own and use. Crouching over her, his mouth occasionally capturing a tit and sucking on it, he stroked in and out of her slit, causing her juices to sluice from her in rivulets and streams. Every so often he slammed his groin against hers, so hard that the slap of skin on skin sounded like an explosion. So hard that it pushed her body across the carpet, leaving rug burns along her hips and shoulders. Neighborhood Butt Fuck Ch. 03 When he finally pulled his cock from her ravaged cunt, she quickly scrambled around and sucked him into her mouth, an eager supplicant to the power of his manhood. She could taste her own tangy juices on him, mixed with the musky taste of his jizz, creating a flavor that she'd gladly sample again and again. But she knew this wasn't the time for a taste test. She wanted to get him harder, stiffer, longer, for the main event, when she was finally able to offer him her ass. Sal wasted no time, letting her wet his cock with her spit for just a few moments before motioning her over to the sofa. "Lay back," he ordered, watching with a grim smile as she expertly positioned herself to give him full access, her legs spread, her ass pointed upwards, her arms underneath her ass and supporting her weight. He ran his fingers around the brown raspberry of her anus, noting how the skin puckered at his touch. He knew his friends had already sampled this fruit, had already declared her a good fuck, but that didn't matter. He would judge for himself whether Tom's wife was a good fuck. Her anus was dry, and while he had her saliva on his cock, he didn't want to hurt her. Not yet. Leaning forward, he put his fingers into her mouth, letting her slather them with her spit, then wiped that along the outside of her squirming anus. As with her pussy, he didn't waste time, but simply pressed his cock head insistently against her asshole until it parted and allowed him inside. He pressed into her smoothly, ignoring the sounds of discomfort she made, knowing that her discomfort would very quickly turn to pleasure when she felt his cock head scraping along the sides of her bowels. With his hands on the back of her thighs, he pushed her legs against her chest, giving him better access to her sweet ass. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, he stroked in and out of her, sometimes pulling all the way out just to have the exquisite pleasure of reaming her asshole one more time. The split second of pain Angela felt when he first defiled her turned to shivering pleasure when his cock continued its passage into her asshole. In those few seconds, she felt her will completely drain away. She wanted nothing more than to have him pillage her ass, over and over, all day long. She would do anything to keep his cock in her ass, say anything, promise anything, worship anything. He had complete command over her body and her thoughts, and he could do whatever he pleased, as long as she would have the chance to keep his cock firmly encased deep in her anus. When, finally, he allowed her to ride atop his throbbing member, and lower herself down so it split her ass crack, she did so with fervent gusto. She quickly began bouncing up and down on him, fucking his cock with her ass, opening her cunt lips so he could see how hot she was for him, acknowledging that he could have her cunt again if he wanted... that she was a helpless slave to the power of his cock. She rode him for a while, then crouched over him as he fucked her from below. Every so often, when the whim hit him, she would lean back against his chest so he could grab and pinch and torture her tits, or reach down and finger her vacant but still slippery pussy. Then he would resume mindlessly fucking her, widening her asshole with every stroke, gaping her like some anal whore, until the only way he could find stimulation was to lean one way or another until her rim ass rubbed along the length of his questing shaft. Finally, sweat soaked and panting, he mounted her from behind, like a dog on a bitch, standing over her and cramming his stiff rod into her loose and gaping butt hole, using the ridges of her ass to suction the last remaining bits of pleasure from her. Then, he pulled his cock from inside her, and she felt the wet stickiness of his cum splash along her butt crack, across her gaping hole and down along her pussy lips. She was his. "Lie down," he growled, the order accompanied by a smack on her ass that sounded like a rifle crack in the room. Immediately she dropped down, belly against the carpet, straining to look back to see what he had in mind. Suddenly she felt his cock re-enter her asshole, and she quickly understood his intention. He was using her tighter hole and ass cheeks to milk the final drops of cum out of his slowly softening member. When he withdrew, he left her with a final order, "Don't move from that spot until after I leave. I'll be back again. And next time, I won't take it so easy on you." With that, he slapped her ass, got dressed, and left. Angela watched him walk out from her spot on the floor, thoroughly sated and trembling from exhaustion. He'd taken it easy on her? The thought of what that meant sent another thrill up her spine. Then she set about the task of crawling to the shower without dripping cum all over the carpeting. * * * Tom slowly played with his cock under the covers, squeezing the shaft hard enough that he could feel the veins constrict. He could, if he wanted, stand up and make her suck it while she road the other man's iron shaft. She was so far gone, she would do anything at all, without thinking. His wife, he concluded, was getting the fuck of her life. With that pole in her ass, all she could physically do was move around in a circle. Or so he thought. As the man continued to pound her ass, she slowly leaned back onto her hands, so her torso sloped away from them, and her sweat-covered breasts and stomach gleamed in the incandescent lights. The new angle of his cock in her ass caused them both to moan, and the man redoubled his efforts to jackhammer her butt into oblivion. Tom had just reached over to grab the camera and get a shot of this highly erotic scene when a flash of movement at the door caught his eye. There was a man standing there, just inside the shadows! Tom's breath caught; he didn't have anything nearby he could use as a weapon, unless he threw the camera at him. Then the shadowy form stepped forward. Mark? What was Mark doing in his house at this hour? Mark, however, wasn't looking at him at all. He was watching Angela riding that thick, slick pole. There was drunken lust in Mark's eyes. Oh, this was going to get interesting... * * * To be continued. Neighborhood Butt Fuck "Probably inside, straightening up the house," Tom replied, keeping his voice level. He didn't want to scare this guy away. "If it's OK with you, I'm going to go inside and talk to her for a while," Mark stated. He turned and faced Tom full in the face. "You know, if you're fucking with me, with all of us, we're gonna make you pay. Especially me. If this is all some sick joke, and I walk in there and Angela doesn't know what's going on, I'm gonna get even. And it's not going to be pretty." Tom started to feel his blood boil, but then calmed himself down. He could see his friend's point. The whole situation was so bizarre, anyone would think it was a joke. What else could it be? "Look, you just put Mr. Tribbles in the back yard and go in the house through the back deck. I'm going to finish this yard. When you come out, you can either punch me in the face or say 'Thank you very much.'" As he entered the home's family room, Mark spotted Angela through the doorway, polishing the dining room table. She wore a loose-fitting white halter top which stretched downward and swayed tantalizingly as she bent over the table and rubbed the wood energetically. Her legs were bare, as were her feet, and he imagined she must be wearing a pair of the short shorts she seemed to love. She didn't look up as he approached the doorway and he got a full view of her stunning breasts, the cleavage like a tunnel leading down to the promised land. With a sheen of perspiration on her face, and her lips pursed in concentration, it was almost like looking at a woman in the middle of a hot round of enthusiastic fucking. She looked up, startled, "Mark! You about scared me to death! You should know better than to sneak up on a woman with a polishing rag in her hand. You could've ended up polished yourself!" She giggled, but remained in the stretched out position he'd caught her in, almost all of her succulent breasts exposed to him, the nipples barely hidden but announcing their presence by the hard nubs pressing against the thin fabric. And just past that, the buttons on her jean shorts and a couple of worn holes in the denim that could only mean that she wasn't wearing panties, either. He looked up to see her staring at him and felt his face begin to blush. He was even more embarrassed when she slowly put her elbows on the table, and beckoned him to come closer, for the lecture on manners that would surely be following. "Closer. Closer. Closer," she instructed, like a mother about to deliver a reprimand that could only have any effect if given full in the face. Soon his face was only inches from hers, and he gritted his teeth against the fury that was going to come. In tightly measured tones she said, "If you would be so kind as to fuck me in the ass, I will do anything, and I mean anything, that you want. Just put your big, fat, hard cock in my tiny, tight, ass!" she added emphatically. She leaned forward, and the kiss when their lips met, was filled with the most desire and longing as any that Mark had ever experienced. His eyes closed automatically, and he pressed his mouth against hers, cramming his tongue inside even as she tried to do the same to him. He felt her shift in place and suddenly there was fabric draped around his neck. She had pulled her top off over her head and left it hanging on him! He opened his eyes and broke the kiss, thrilled to see her topless before him. Her tits were even more magnificent than he'd imagined. And much bigger than his wife's. At least a D-cup, if not larger. He watched them sway as she scrambled across the table, sitting on the edge before him. The lust radiated from her like a blazing fire. "They're 36 double-d," she said, grabbing his hand and placing it on the firm flesh. "I've been thinking about getting them made bigger. What do you think?" Mark blinked at the question, even as his hands, seemingly of their own volition, reverently touched and caressed her tits. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them hard, until his fingers buried in her mounds. "I like it rough," she growled at him. "Do to me what you can't do to any other woman." She kissed him again, this time even more lecherously than before, and he knew then that she was serious. She would do literally anything to get a cock in her asshole. "Don't be shy," she whispered, pulling his hand away from her tit and thrusting it down her shorts. Somehow they'd become unzipped, and his fingers brushed her pussy patch before ending up just outside the entrance to her cunt. "Don't you want some of that before you put your big boner in my ass?" At that, Mark let go of all his inhibitions. This woman, with her big tits and round ass, wanted him, and she wanted him bad. He curled his fingers inside of her pussy, rubbing the full lips and digging deep into the hot, slippery hole. "Before we do anything, you're gonna suck my cock," he demanded, pulling his face away from her insistent lips. "And take off those shorts. I wanna see all of you." Angela's face lit up and she nodded obediently, stripping off the shorts and kicking them to the side. Her pussy patch was carefully shaved in a short, thin landing strip, cut close enough so that the normally curly hair was straight. "Wait," he ordered, pleased to see that she froze in place. Grabbing her by the hips, he lifted her onto the table. Her pussy lips looked full and inviting, and he figured that since this might the be the only time he'd get to have her like this, however bizarre the situation, he might as well take advantage of it. "How do you taste?" he demanded of her. In answer, she dipped her fingers into her cunt, took them out, sniffed them like a wine connoisseur, then tasted them. "Delicious!" she declared, a wicked smile appearing even as she spread her pussy lips apart and showed him her steaming pink cunt. Mark didn't need any more encouragement, quickly bending forward to lap at her open pussy. She was right. She tasted delicious, without a hint of the fishy taste that some women had. He'd been at it for several minutes when Angela whispered in his ear, "You can keep going if you want. But don't feel like you need to get me off. I'll cum if you want this way. But I'd rather cum with your big hard cock deep in my ass." He lifted his head a bit gratefully, because that was exactly what he'd been trying to do: Making her cum before taking his pleasure from her. "There's still one thing you have to do, young lady," he said with a smile, looking meaningfully down at the floor. Without a word she slid to her knees, quickly undoing his shorts even as he pulled his shirt off. He was already semi-erect, and when her hot mouth enveloped his trembling cock, he felt as though he might explode right then. He knew what he was sticky with pre-cum, but Angela never blinked an eye, just turning to the task at hand and sucking and licking his member with the enthusiasm of a young girl. He was dimly aware of the absurdity of the situation; getting a blowjob from the wife of a friend in their dining room, while said friend was outside cutting the grass. If Tom came in the door, he didn't know what he would do or say. But then Angela began rubbing her tits up and down his shaft, and all those other thoughts faded away. After relocating to the family room, Mark found himself gazing upon a truly inspiring vista. Angela had bent herself over the arm of the sofa, and he looked down at the sweetest ass he'd ever seen. Her round cheeks had distinct tan lines on them, the pale skin like a target for his spear. Just beyond that, her hips and waist would provide excellent handholds to pull that hot body to him when the time came. He could trace the bumps of her spine almost to her neck, where her long hair splayed across her shoulders. She didn't look back to see what he was waiting for, but just waited obediently for him to initiate the action. He liked that. He rubbed his cock head up and down her crack, and she moaned gratefully, the sound emanating from deep in her diaphragm. The idea that this might be his one and only chance at this, that he might feel too guilty to return, hovered in the back of his mind. So, despite his lust for the brown puckered anus staring up at him, he slid his rod lower and plunged it into her waiting pussy. They gasped together, he from the intense heat, she from the long-anticipated penetration. She was smooth and liquid, her bare pussy lips rasping on his rod as it moved in and out of her. He plunged in and out of her, his hands naturally grabbing her hips and pulling her to him with every thrust. He knew he would end up blowing his load all over the inside of her cunt if he kept this up, her pussy was so welcoming and warm. But he hadn't put it all on the line for a simple fuck. He'd come for something more, something tighter and dirtier and forbidden. It was time. As soon as he withdrew, Angela canted her ass down a little, so he wouldn't have to stand on tiptoes to mount her. Her anus glistened from the cooking oil she'd applied during the walk from the dining room. She was lubed and ready and eager, panting expectantly. He lay the length of his cock inside the valley of her crack, getting some of the slick oil on his cock head. Then, slowly, dramatically, he took hold of himself and pushed his rod in her waiting asshole. Immediately he knew that the risk of coming over here would be worth the reward. Her anus was super tight, barely stretching at all to allow his cock to pierce the outer ring. Best of all, she responded like a hot bitch should, shoving her ass up against his thrust, so that he was balls deep inside her. Mark paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation and the view, his hard cock keeping this beautiful ass pinned to the sofa. Then he unleashed the animal inside that was raging at the gates and began fucking her ass as hard as he could. Beneath him, Angela moaned and gasped and cried aloud, a torrent of filthy words tumbling from her lips. The slapping of skin on skin echoed through the room, adding a rhythm to their madness. Outside the French doors, Mark could see Tom nonchalantly trimming the grass, as if completely unaware that his wife was being brutally butt fucked just inside the house. Outside, Tom turned off the trimmer and listened. With all the windows open for the summer, it was easy to hear the slap, slap, slap of two people fucking inside. He smiled at the thought. No matter how well she was getting fucked, he knew that his wife would be eager and ready for more within minutes of Mark spewing a load of cum inside her. He checked on Mr. Tribbles. The dog had finally finished drinking as much of the pool water as it could hold, and was now sleeping on the warm deck. Content that the dog wouldn't be joining him, Tom stripped off his shirt and crocs and plunged into the cool water. Tom was just toweling off when Mark joined him on the deck. "See ya again soon," Mark said, picking up the leash and attaching it to Mr. Tribbles' collar. "And, thanks, man." Tom watched thoughtfully as he left, then headed into the house. Angela lay on her side on the floor, her hair plastered to her face and her rump red from the hard punishment she'd taken. It was clear from the lack of jizz on her body that she'd taken his cumshot deep inside her ass. "So, how was it, my little cum slut?" he asked bemusedly, towering over her. "Is that something you want to do again?" She smiled up at him, rolled over onto her stomach and began languidly kissing and licking his feet. "Does my lord and master wish to share in my bounty?" she asked seductively. He smiled indulgently, crouching down until his crotch was just inches from her mouth. "I'll tell you what, my little minx. You can fuck as many guys as you want, as long as I get all the details, and get to watch whenever I want. How's that sound?" In answer, she reached up and began unbuttoning his wet shorts. He wasn't worried about getting sloppy seconds. He had his mind set on fucking her hot and sweaty tits. To be continued...