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My Neighbor Ch. 1

By: Jigs



Hi! My name is Melanie James. I'm thirty eight years old. My husband, Dr. Alvin James M.D., is fifty five, We have been married for eighteen years now. This my first marriage, his second. We live with our sixteen year old daughter, Samantha, in a comfortable two story colonial house on the edge of a small Ohio Town. From his first marriage, Alvin also has a twenty five year old daughter, Dotty, who is married to a local Realtor and lives nearby. 

My husband earns a good living as the head of the pathology department at a local hospital. I am a full time housewife. Although I have one child, and I'm in my late thirties, I am still a very attractive woman. I watch my weight, try to eat right, and work out regularly at a local gym. I am tall with a good figure, and a damn sexy set of tits and legs, even if I do say so myself. 

To all appearances Alvin and I are happily married. I suppose that is generally true although our sex life has been something of a failure. Our sex problems are more my fault than Alvin's. As you will learn from this story, my sexual needs are somewhat extreme. I am turned on only by a strong man with a big penis who demands that I submit to him in sexual servitude. Unfortunately, my dear sweet husband is neither temperamentally nor physically equipped to fill that role. Still, except for my somewhat unique sexual quirks, Alvin and I are otherwise compatible, and our marriage has been pleasant and loving even if not passionate. 

Our home is the next to the last house at the end of a dead end street. Behind all the houses on our side of that street is a wall of giant trees and heavy brush that marks the boundary of a state nature park. My neighbor to the north is a two story ultra modern design built just last year at the very end of our cul de sac. From the street, the house very private. The front and side walls have only a few windows, and those are small and up high. On the back side, however, the walls both upstairs and downstairs are single sheets of glass from ceiling to floor. These huge picture windows frame the panorama of the park forest and a lovely back yard patio and heated swimming pool. Of course the opposite is also true, and the view from outside looking in is just as open. 

On two sides, however, the my neighbor's patio is shielded from prying eyes by the wild woods of the state park. On my side an eight foot high hedge along the property line insures privacy at street level. I suppose the architect thought a tall hedge like that would be enough, but he apparently failed to consider that my home sits farther back on its lot than the house he was designing. As a result the windows of my sewing room on the north west corner of my second story not only look out across my neighbor's swimming pool and patio, they also peer almost directly into the second floor master bedroom. I can see and hear everything that goes on in the pool and patio. I can't hear conversation from inside the bedroom of course, but if the drapes are left open, I have a front row view of whatever goes on there. 

The first people to live in this new home were sensitive about their privacy. They didn't use the pool much, and always wore bathing suits when they did. Curtains and drapes were pretty much always kept closed across the glass fishbowl of that rear wall. Staying buttoned up like that closed off the view of the back yard and park that the architect had in mind, but it did protect them from Peeping Toms. I think the architect would have done the same if he had lived there. 

We now have an new neighbor living there, however, one Peter J. Carr. Mr. Carr is handsome man, forty to forty five years old with a full head of very dark hair just beginning to gray a little, a nicely trimmed mustache (also with just a touch of gray), and icy blue eyes. This fall he will begin his first full year as the football coach and history teacher at the local high school, where he is already at work with one class a day during summer school. 

How he can afford such an expensive home on a teachers salary is a mystery. The rumor is that his wife died leaving him a fortune and now he coaches and teaches just for the fun of it. That may all be just gossip, but Mr. Carr is apparently unmarried and he does live like a man of means. All that is certain about him, however, is that at six foot two, athletically trim and hard muscled, he is devilishly attractive, charming, and (I am told) a marvelous dancer. He is certainly has the attention of every unmarried woman in town between eighteen and eighty (and more than a few of those who are married). 

I too feel his charm whenever I talk to him, not to mention the germ of a dirty thought or two. I am unusually susceptible to strong dominating men because of the way I was raised and a traumatic sexual experience as a teen. I will tell you more about that as my story goes on, but for now it is sufficient to say that in the presence of a powerful self assured male like Mr. Carr I am strung as tight as a violin string. Tortured by my sexual demons, and always self conscious about my weakness, I try to stay far away from men like Mr. Carr who may tempt me to do something I might regret. 

A good looking stud right next door, however, is pretty hard to avoid. In Mr. Carr's case this seemed especially true. Chance meetings when he needed to borrow a cup of sugar, a shovel, or whatever, seemed to come up with suspicious regularity. 

I am on a razor's edge every time I must talk to him. To be such a weakling before a total stranger is simply ridiculous, but I can't help it. Its just the way I am. From the first day I could feel this man's deep cold blue eyes peering right into my soul. It shook me to think he was somehow reading all my horny thoughts, and the longer we talked, the more panicky and flustered I became. Most embarrassing of all, even as we stood there just talking I could feel myself growing damp between my legs. It was pretty awful. I could see Peter's nostrils flaring as if he was trying to catch my scent. I seems crazy, but I'm quite sure the man could smell me going into heat. 

Much the same thing happened every time our paths crossed. He seemed to be innocuously, but persistently, testing my erotic response, searching for the slut in me. He would hold our handshake a little too long. He would brush up against me when there was really no reason to do so. If I was in shorts, he would find a way for his hand to rub up against my bare thigh..., all apparently by accident, and quite innocently you understand. Once he came up behind me and put his face and nose right into my hair. I could hear him sniffing deeply, obviously enjoying the sent he found there. There is nothing more erotic to a woman than for a marauding male to examine her close up with his nose. When he told me how sweet and female I smelled, my knees buckled, and it was all I could do to keep myself from gushing all over him. 

One day he asked me directly if I could see into his bedroom from my upstairs windows. It wasn't necessary for him to ask that. He knew that I could. Why didn't he just shut his curtains and let things go at that? Then he told me, quite unnecessarily, that he sleeps in the nude, and often goes around his house that way. If all that wasn't enough, he grinned at me and told me not to look when he was swimming in his pool. He said that he almost always swam "bare butt". 

Damn him anyway! Why did he have to tell me all that? Was he testing me to see if I was a voyeur ready to spy on him? Worse yet, was he inviting me to watch as he paraded his naked masculinity? 

Anyway, on a hot day in July shortly after that little talk, I glanced out my sewing room window, and there he was, just as he said he would be, sunbathing in the nude by his swimming pool. Even as sensitive as I am to such things, I think I could have handled my emotions had what I saw been merely a forty five year old man without clothes. Mr. Carr was not, however, merely nude. Hardly! Peter J. Carr has the hard sculptured body of a classic Greek statue..., and oh yes, lest I forget to mention it..., he is also hung like a horse. A man built like that, with a bull's cock to match, is never merely undressed, no, he can only be naked..., sexually enticing, sensuously stimulatingly..., NAKED. 

I recalled how Peter had dropped his hint that he often went around nude like this. "Damn him," I thought, "somehow he knows how vulnerable I am. He is down there showing me his prick on purpose." 

It was my bad luck that my first boyfriend had a penis like that. I know from that bitter experience how a male so generously endowed between his legs can turn a proper but horny female into an absolute slut. I became so addicted to my young lover's woman killing penis that I was willing to do anything and everything he demanded just to have him keep on sticking me with the damn thing. I suspect that such may be case for almost any woman once she has experienced a cunt filled to overflowing with ten inches and more of throbbing male hard-on. 

So, with my first look a Pete Carr's dick, I knew I was in trouble. Still I could not bring myself to leave my window. I just stood there gawking, unable to take my eyes off of him..., or more honestly said..., OFF OF IT. While I watched he took a quick dip in the pool. Finished with his swim, he threw a foot up on the pool deck and started to pull himself out of the water. Half way through, however, he paused, frozen there with one leg on the deck, and the other still dangling in the water. The muscles along his abdomen and thighs tightened with strain, and between those spread legs his long male member bobbed and swayed..., beckoning to me I thought. 

Strange that he should hesitate like that. Was he posing..., showing off..., letting me admire his muscular body and his donkey dick? I suspect so but who could say for certain? What I do know is that I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. I could not resist sliding a hand under my dress and panties to stroke my clit with a finger tip. 

As I sat there masturbating at he sight of all that masculine meat hanging between a pair of strong male legs, my memory went spinning back to the time when I was being regularly used and abused by a cock just like that. I couldn't let that happen again, but what was I to do? This devil with a big prick must have known that sooner or later I would see him..., and IT. Damn him, he was showing off for my benefit, playing with my head.., and I.., God help me..., I have such little strength to stand up to the temptation of a really big dick. 

I blame my parents for the way I am. They belonged to a Christian evangelical sect that held to a very narrow definition of morality. As I was growing up my father was particularly strict with me about any thing he thought might be 'sinful'..., and to him, that was just about everything a young girl might do. I could have been a popular girl in high school if it hadn't been for my father. I was pretty enough, blond, blue eyed, with long shapely legs, and a set of perfect breasts. I always wore a bra because my father insisted, but I really didn't need one despite my 36 C cup size. 

I could tell by the way boys looked at me that I attracted them, but my father never allowed me to date or to have any social life at all. Not only was I prohibited from attending school dances and parties, I couldn't be a cheerleader, or even go to the football or basketball games like the other kids. I went to church on Wednesday nights and Sunday morning and evening, but that was about it, and I must not fool around with any boys while there or on the way home. 

My father talked about sin all the time, and he when spoke of the Devil, it was as if he knew him personally. I never told dad, but I would have gladly fucked his evil old Lucifer if only I could just have a boyfriend of my own. As things turned out, that's pretty much what happened too, because the prick that took my cherry was surely attached to Satan himself. 

I graduated from high school at sixteen, and my father shipped me off to an expensive women's college buried in a backwater of the bible belt south. The school was run by our church so daddy thought my virginity would be safe there. He was wrong. Less than fifteen miles away was a large State University just full of horny boys. 

The rules of our school were as near to those of a convent as non-Catholics can get, but no amount of rules, deans and house mothers, are a match for the raging hormones of teenage girls. My dorm roommate was a senior. She and her upperclassmen friends had long since learned how to sneak past the curfews and bed checks and into the arms of the guys from State College.., and I suspect into their beds too, although all my friends were real discrete on that subject. 

At first I was too shy and repressed to make a break for freedom, but I was watching and trying to learn from my more worldly new friends. Most of them had parents with religious convictions much like mine. They knew how frustrated I was, and they were more than willing to help a poor repressed and confused freshman. Halfway through that first year, my roommate set me up with a blind date with Eddie 'Country' Farmer a well known football player from State College.

Eddie was every teenage girl's dream. An All-American, his name was in the newspaper all the time. A senior almost six years older than I was, he was as handsome as a movie star, and very popular..., at least he was with a little clique of hangers on that followed him around telling him what a great guy he was. They all said Eddie was sure to be a 'first round pick in the NFL draft', whatever that meant. He belonged to the very best Greek letter social fraternity. He always had plenty of cash in his pocket. Where it came from I never knew. Eddie's money, and the flashy sports car he drove, were things that no one wanted to talk about for some reason.

Eddie was all the things my father had warned me about. He had no moral convictions, and he was completely indifferent to any distinction between right and wrong. He was conceited, selfish, and often insulting to the people around him, and his social manners were crude to nonexistent. He seldom went to class or studied, and he sneered at those who did. He was a user and abuser of everyone around him, particularly the girls he dated. There was long list of those. I knew that even when I went out with him that first time. What I didn't know was how he had fucked every one of them, and then cruelly dumped them with nothing but a load of guilt, and an occasional bastard baby. 

Most of his "ex's" were pretty bitter about the way he treated them (not that every one of them wouldn't have gone back to him if he had so much as crooked his finger). I didn't know any of that in the beginning of course, and by the time I found I was already hooked, just one more of his co-ed sluts (slut, that was his generic term for us all). Like all the rest, I was no more than a cunt for Eddie to screw, and like all the all the girls before me, he dumped me fast when he found new pussy to pleasure his penis. 

Eddie had other faults besides being a sexual predator. First on that list, he drank too much. Worse, when he was drunk, Eddie got mean. As strong as he was physically, there weren't many who would cross him, or who could control him, when he was drinking.

And did I mention that Eddie had a ten inch cock? No? How could I have forgotten to tell you about that. Despite his football ability and big man on campus reputation, Eddie Farmer's real asset was his big cock. He was famous for it. At the time, I really didn't understand why. The length of a boy's penis was simply not something I gave any thought to one way or the other. Why would I? I had never even seen one in the flesh, and I certainly didn't intend to let this Eddie Farmer fuck me with his, not on that first date or ever, football star or not. 

I just wanted a boy to pay me some attention, or at least that's what I thought in the beginning. I didn't yet comprehend what 'being horny' was all about, or how vulnerable a girl can be to a man like Eddie. Poor dumb little me, but green as I was, how could I have known? Anyway, like everyone else, I was in awe of the great 'Country' Farmer, and I was so eager to actually have a date with him that I was blind to my danger. 

As I sat in my sewing room watching Peter Carr dry his dick and balls, I reminisced about the first time I saw Eddie Farmer's cock. It was on that first blind date. We went to the movies first, then we stopped by at his frat house where Eddie had a couple of beers with his buddies while I watched TV by myself. 

I understood even then that I shouldn't expect the great Eddie Farmer to spend the whole evening entertaining me. My turn with him would come later. Sure enough, after about an hour Eddie took me off to a little private side parlor where we could be alone. I hadn't any personal experience with fraternity house side parlors, but I had heard the girls in the dorm gossip about what was coming next, and I was down right eager to get on with it. I had yearned for some boy to kiss me for years, and now I was going to be making out with one of the really big men on campus.

All of which brings me back to Eddy's cock. We necked and French kissed for a while. Despite my feeble efforts to defend my virtue, Eddie managed to get a good feel of my breasts, squeezing first one and then the other from outside my blouse. It all felt good to me, and I probably didn't resist him the way I should have. Before I knew it my blouse was open, my bra was down, and Eddie was playing with my bare nipples. I really liked that!! Still, I was able to stop him from running his hands between my legs. I knew instinctively (I think every woman does) that if he ever put a finger in my pussy, my virginity was lost. My father was still too much with me to chance that. 

My resistance frustrated Eddie, and I could see I was making him angry. Finally he told me that he couldn't be bothered with a "prick teaser" and that if I wanted him to date me again I had to do something about "the ache in his nuts". I asked him what he wanted me to do, and with that he unzipped his fly and pulled out this huge penis. Of course I had nothing to compare him with, and at the time I didn't realize how exceptionally big that thing was. 

Eddie said he wanted me to "jack him off", and since I had denied him my vagina, I thought I ought to do something that would please him. His sex felt silky smooth in my fingers as I pumped it up and down the way Eddie showed me. Amazingly his penis became even bigger as it began to harden, and by the time he was fully erect, my fingers hardly reached around him. I had been pumping up and down on this big pole of male flesh for only a very few minutes when he suddenly grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my head down into his crotch. My face was suddenly within an inch of the first penis I had ever even seen in my whole life.

He yanked my hair hard then, and demanded that I suck him. "Damn you, you little prick teasing bitch, suck me off!" 

I wasn't sure I ought to do that, but I knew this was something that boys expected of their steady girls. I wanted to be Eddie's 'steady' more than I ever wanted anything in my life..., and so..., I opened my mouth as wide as I could and closed my lips over the big purple bulbous head he was holding under my nose. I had heard girls in the dorm talk about 'going down.' They all seemed so familiar with a 'blow job' that I suspected most of them sucked their dates from time to time, if not regularly, although I never heard a single one admit it directly. I certainly didn't want Eddie to know how green I was, and if other girls could do this for him, then I could too.

What I didn't know much about were the details of just what to do, and he was so big I could hardly get him in my mouth. Nature carried me along, tho. I could get my lips over the head so I sucked hard on that and curled my tongue around the very tip end of his prick. Eddie must have liked what I was doing because he was soon gasping for air. I heard him whisper "Oh Yes, Baby, Yessss!", and with that he forced my head down, sending that big thing deep into my throat. 


My Neighbor Ch. 10



The car awaited them outside. The nights in Vegas are cold this time of the year. She shivered a bit. Mark opened the car door for her and with no hesitation she quickly got in and moved as far over as she could. Mark got in after her and shut the door. He motioned to the driver, the car started to move and the panel window went up. Leaving them to be unseen and unheard. She gasped, fear immediately came over her. She tensed up. Mark noticing her ever move and expression. “So, how did it feel,” his voice low and deep. She couldn't believe her ears. She was starting to feel out raged. She glared at him. “You sick bastered,” she blurted out, “how could you? No, how dare you treat me like that,” her voice sharp and angry. He looked at her, his eyes still soft upon her. “You liked it he told her,” in a pleasant voice. “Liked it,” she snapped back. “Oh, yeah, I just love feeling cheap and humiliated in front of others,” she snapped without rage in her voice. Mark Smiled at her. She was amazed that he wasn't losing his temper but she was. He reached over to touch her knee and she quickly pushed his hand away but to no avail. His hand on her knee she trembled with fear knowing that this phenomenal man could over power her. “Come, come now,” he said in a pleasant voice, “your body tells me other wise.” “Get away from me,” she demanded. Her demand fell on deaf ears. He scooted closer to her, his arm around the back of her. “I would never hurt you,” he told her. She didn't bother to look at him. She started to figid with her dress. “Your body told me that you were in shear heaven. I could feel your excitement. You want me just has bad as I want you, admit it?” His eyes still on her. 

     She heard every word he said and she hated herself for she knew deep down that he was right. She had indeed felt all those things and more. She loved his soft touches and the worst part is she realized that she enjoyed the whole thing. It was erotic she thought to herself. He had complete control over her and she enjoyed it. She started to get angry at the thoughts she was having. They sat in complete silence until they reached the hotel. Mark scooted over and opened the door and got out, he turned and held his hand out to help her out but she would have not part of it. She got out on her own and walked passed him without looking at him. She heard the car door slam shut. She trembled and turned to look at him. She could see he was angry but at what she thought at what he did or at her reaction to him. He glared at her intensely but she was not going to back down. She turned and proceeded inside the hotel and headed straight for the elevator. She didn't care if Mark was behind her or not. She got in and noticed Mark walking towards the elevator. She reached over and hit the button. The doors closed before he could get there. Piss me off why don't you, she thought to herself. The doors finally opened and she went straight to her room. No sooner had she gotten inside, when she heard the door open with such fore it hit the wall behind it.

     She spun around and saw Mark walking in slamming the door behind him. He was pissed. She was more then scared at this point, she was looking around to grab anything she could. This was not going to be a pretty sight. Before she could move, Mark was in front of her. His breathing rapid and deep. She glared at him. She was not going to back down, she stood her ground. Marks hand on her arms, she could feel them tightening. She tried not to show him any fear but that was unsuccessful. He could feel her fear. For a moment they stood there she was in his clutches and a sense of helplessness came over her. She looked at him and his facial features and eyes started to soften, his breathing started to slow. She hadn't noticed but he had backed her up to the bed. He gently sat her on it. She noticed the book next to her. Read after all this she thought. Mark reached for the book and handed it to her, he then scooted her to the middle of the bed. Her heart racing not knowing what he was going to do next. He took off his coat and pulled the band out of his hair to let his hair fall. She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Leaning against the head board. He knelt over her and took her pins out of her hair. Her long red hair fell gracefully down and outlining her face. She couldn't speak she didn't know herself it was out of fear or excitement. Then he moved to the end of the bed, down by her feet. He started to take her shoe off and started massaging her foot. “Relax,” he said in a soft whisper. She could feel her aching feet, his hands gently massaging the pain away. Her body tingling all over. “Read,” he whispered. She looked at him, her facial expression started to soften. She didn't understand what she was feeling. Her heart pumping.

     She opened the book and began to read. It was hard for her to concentrate on reading with him giving her a foot message. It was feeling so good. His strong hands caressing and rubbing her foot. Her body was starting to become limp. Before she realized it she was reading about Mr. and Mrs. Reese wedding day. Mrs. Reese wrote down every detail even what her guest were wearing and how she had noticed a smudge on ones guest jacket. Mark started to take off the other shoe and started to massage her other foot. She was in complete ecstasy. She then got to the part of their love making. She blushed and looked down towards Mark. He knew she was getting tired by the tone in her voice. Mark slowly stopped massaging her foot and slowly crawled up on the bed and reached for the book and again marked the page. His eyes never leaving her face. He slowly lowered his body next to her. He lay on his side with one arm propping his head up. “You are truly beautiful,” he whispered. She lay there almost half asleep. Mark put his arm under her head and the other on her waist. She didn't know what to think nor did she care if anything happened. Mark drew her closer, his hands strong yet soft. She was now on her side. Strange she felt safe after all that had happened. He wrapped her up close to him. They both drifted off to sleep in each others arms.



My Neighbor Ch. 11



Mark woke to find Leann still sleeping, both arm in arm. As he slowly moved his hand from around her waist to gently stroke her beautiful hair she awoke. Still sleepy she remembered she was in Marks arms. She gazed up at him. He was looking at her with sparks of passion in his eyes. “I want to make love to you,” his voice whispered. She didn't know what to say. She just laid there. She could feel him stroke her hair. It sent chills down her spin. His hand slowly made its way to her shoulder. “I won't hurt you,” he smiled at her. He started to gently and slowly pull one of the straps down over her shoulder. She could feel herself getting excited, her hand on his massive chest. She started to unbutton his shirt. She was already wet from his touch. He slowly pulled himself over her. She was now under his muscular body. Her body started to tingle all over. She looked at him and smiled. She felt herself slightly frightened by his size. Mark whispered, “I want you.” His finger covered her lips. “I promise you I won't ever hurt you.”

He started to kiss her forehead, moving down to her neck. She was enjoying every kiss he gave her. Her eyes closed yearning for him. He slowly made his way down her neck to her cleavage. He had taken both straps down her shoulder by now. She took her arms out of them, her eyes opened now watching every move he made. She could feel his breath next to her skin. She wanted him, he slowly exposed her breasts and cupped them in his two large hands. He looked at her and let go of one breast to hold himself up over her and started kissing her. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue parting then making his way into her mouth. He was teasing her. Her breathing started to pick up, she could feel his hand on her other breast. He barely rubbed it and her nipples got hard. He gently squeezed her nipple has not to hurt her. Her yarning was starting to over power her. She placed her hand on his should and pressed ever closer. He knew she wanted him. He had her swollen nipple between his fingers and pinched it gently. She moaned with passion. He pinched a little harder the next time. She felt it hurt a little. She tried to pull away but couldn't he had her pinned. She groaned again this time it was different. Her body was feeling strange. Mark had moved his hand down taking her dress with him. Still tasting her along the way, she arched her back. She was getting excited at the thought. “Relax, I will please you,” his voice deep and sinister with an evil little grin. He looked at her white smooth skin. Has he pulled her dress further down he to went with it past her feet. Where he kneeled and gazed upon her. She felt embarrassed yet she didn't know what she was feeling.

 “You're so soft and beautiful love,” he whispered. She smiled at him has if she got caught doing something she shouldn't have been. “You wait here, don't move,” he said in a domineering way. She looked puzzled and shocked. She obeyed his wish. He slowly got up and started to leave. He looked back at her and smiled. “Now don't you move till I get back,” he said and left. She could hear the door open and shut. She lay there, her mind in a whirl, wondering where he went and when he would be back. Her body trembling with excitement.

 It was only a few minutes when she heard the door open and shut again and the stereo go on. Her body jumped with excitement and fear of the unknown. He came into the room. She looked at him with wanting eyes when she noticed he was wearing his black robe, the one he wore on television. With the hood over his head. She started to giggle. “You laugh,” he said in a stern voice. She quickly stopped, thinking to herself okay, I'll play his little game. He moved over to the side she was on. He knelt down by her, his eyes locked on to her, he held her gaze. She could feel something being put under her pillow. She started to turn her head to find out what is was. “No,” he demanded in a sharp stern low voice. Her head snapped back to look at him. He then got up and walked to the bottom of the bed. Her eyes locked on him. He bent over and had her by the ankles. It sent a rush through her body she felt his hands move slowly up her legs. He gently parted them slightly. She started to arch her back. His fingers slowly pushing aside her panties, He tantalized her clit, she moaned in utter excitement. Her head drew back onto the pillow. She was enjoying what he was doing to her. He watched her every move with such intensity he started to pull her lace panties off. He opened her legs further apart to expose her. He saw her lovely fur and her pussy beckoning him. He looked up towards her. You are indeed lovely, excitement in his voice. His hand making its way up her leg to its destination. She felt his finger slowly entering her wet pussy. She moaned he was teasing her. His finger in and out of her pussy, her hips moved to his rhythm. She wanted him. Suddenly he stopped. “You want me don't you,” he smiled, “you want to see it,” his voice sounded like a little boy, waiting to show you his gift. “Yes, I do very much,” she gasps for air. He bent down between her legs. God, she didn't believe what she was doing. She felt his cold silk robe on her inner thighs. She looked, Mark was going to make her squeal, he still had the hood over his head. God, she thought. She pulled her legs up in his coming towards her. She felt his tongue slowly circling her clit. Her head fell back, she started to grab the covers and clinch them tightly in her hand. Her hips swaying to every move. His hand on her hip not allowing her to hardly move, she was almost climaxing. Her moans of ecstasy filled the room. Just then he stopped.

 “Not yet love,” his voice deep. She looked at him with begging eyes. “I want this to last, I want you just has much but I want this to be special for both of us.” She smiled at him. “I don't know what you're doing to me, the things I am feeling, I don't understand,” her breathing was rapid. He positioned himself over her. He gazed into her eyes. “You've made me feel special for along time. I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” She reached up to pull the hood down off his head. Her hand stroking his hair. She pulled him down closer and kissed him passionately this time her tongue parted his lips, she was tasting him and he tasted divine. With her other hand she started to pull the robe apart to expose him, he slightly lifted himself so the robe would open all the way down. Then brought his body closer to her. She felt his hard warm body on hers. She trembled with pure pleasure. His hard cock throbbing against her. He pulled away finishing their passionate kiss. With one hand he took her breast and started to suck it. Her hands now on his head, her back starts to arch. He went from one to the other sucking them. Her body ached with passion. He nibbled at them taking her nipples between his teeth and gently biting on them. Her moans were filling the room. He kissed her all over making his way down to her hot wet pussy. She felt him suck on her clit. Moans of passion filled the air, his tongue in and out, licking her. Her legs started to wrap around him, but he stopped. She could feel herself wanting to explode. She was sure he knew it too. He started again licking and tasting her. Screams of passion came forth. Her hands clutching his long hair. His tongue was in her hard and deep, she was cumming and he was taking it all. Tasting her. Her body started to twitch uncontrollably, she couldn't stop gasping for air, moans of ecstasy filled the room. He stopped and came up towards her. 

 “You taste wonderful,” he whispered to her and gently and passionately kissed her. Her body lifeless, he could see her pleasure. She gave him a sexy smile. “Take me,” her voice begging in passion. Her arms around him. “I will my love,” he smiled back at her, his eyes filled with passion and fire. He put his hard stiff cock up against the entrance of her canal. She gasped as he slowly entered her. She could feel his cock penetrating her. As his hips came down, her legs wrapped around him at least as far as they could. He felt her nails dig into his back and hearing her moan with pleasure and pain. He was hurting her as his hips came down and his long hard cock went deep inside her. Her moans loud and raspy. He took her arms and placed them above her head. Her head swaying back and forth with each thrust he gave her. She didn't notice he reached under her pillow with his other hand and pulled out a set of handcuffs. He wrapped them around the post of the bed ad on her wrist when she heard a click, click and cold medal against her skin. Her eyes opened, her head stopped moving. God no, she thought. She looked up and seen she was cuffed and looked back at him with fear in her eyes. “Hush pretty,” it's okay he assured her.

  His thrust became faster and his cock went deeper. Her head started to sway her hips meeting his. She couldn't touch him and that was exciting to her even more. She wanted to touch him and couldn't. She heard him moan in pleasure. His breathing rapid, she felt his eyes watching her. She felt like a wish bone being pulled apart. It hurt so bad but felt so good. His thrust became faster, she was screaming out of ecstasy. He put his hand over her mouth to quite her never missing a beat. She felt him smack the side of her ass. Her eyes opened immediately. It sent a shock through her body. Mark looking at her and sweat coming down his face. “You will never raise your voice in front of other to me, will you,” he demanded. She looked at him with panic in her eyes. His hand over her mouth still. He still kept thrusting deep into her. He smacked her again on the side of the ass. This time a little harder. “Will you,” he said again in a stern gruff voice. She nodded her head not but a strange feeling came over her. She loved what he was doing to her and how it made her feel. Good my love, he smiled at her, this is your first lesson he grinned. Her eyes began to beg for more. He thrust his hard cock into her as deep as he could a few more times and he came inside her. He groaned and her screams of ecstasy muffled by his hand. Sweaty bodies laid on each other. He quickly uncuffed her and moved his hand from her mouth. Mark looking at her, she was lifeless and out of breath. “You are mine now,” he whispered. “You will be forever mine.” “Yes, I am yours,” she whispered back. He slowly pulled his cock out and lay next to her, wrapping her in his arms both in ecstasy. He stroked her hair and in a very low whisper he told her he loved her. She almost didn't hear him with the music playing in the back round. She snuggled closer and sighed. The soon fell asleep in each others arms.

 Since that day they have been together. Everyday a new. They made it through the diaries to find out about the room in the attic. The funny part is that not shortly after they became each others soul mate they already knew what was up in the attic for they often played up there. The live in bliss for she knows her place by his side. Of course the lessons went on. She found herself loving it has Mark found himself loving her. She knew her place well and would you believe years later they are still together. They are truly one. Though there are times she finds that disobeying can have its fun when she is getting it from Sir Mark.



My Neighbor Ch. 1



Stuffed with his penis that way, I couldn't breathe very well, but just as I was choking, Eddie jerked my head back, and I was able to get some air before he yanked me back down again. I got the idea, and I began to bob my head up and down on my own, raking him with lips tightly sealed around his hard masculine root. It was hardly any time after that before his ejaculation came in a flood. I had only the vaguest idea about what had happened, but my mouth was already full of cock, so there was nothing I could do but swallow the thick white goo Eddie was giving me. I couldn't take it all, tho, and some of his ejaculation leaked out the corners of my mouth, down my chin and onto my bare breasts.

As I sat in my sewing room widow, my finger in my pussy, watching Peter Carr dry his fire hose prick, I could still taste Eddie Farmer's cum. I sucked Eddie off often after that, at least once on every date. Poor submissive little me, I came to love doing it..., so much so I would orgasm just from just having him in my mouth. 

It has been such a long time since then, but I haven't forgotten how good those orgasms were, or how much I loved having the flavor and feel of his thick white seed on my tongue. Watching my neighbor wave his dick at me, I had a sudden overwhelming thirst for a creamy load of male jism to swallow. God help me! If it hadn't been such a humiliating thought, I would have rushed right over to Pete Carr's swimming pool and asked if I could please give him a blow job. 

I must have stayed at that window watching Carr sunbathe his dick for an hour or more, masturbating myself all the while. Three times I got off on my finger. Finally it began to get dark and he went into the house. Soon, however, I could see him again as the lights went on in the upstairs master bedroom. He made no effort to close the drapes. I had a great view, every bit as good as if I was watching him on of those oversized TV screens, only clearer. Right away, he spread himself on the bed and began to beat off. In due time he shot his load into a towel. I should have pulled down my own shade and quit watching, but I was so mesmerized by that huge cock, and so hungry for it, that I just couldn't bring myself to back away from this inflammatory performance. My hand went back inside my panties for a fourth orgasm. 

Even with that release, it was almost more than I could stand to watch this sexy man climax into his towel . God, what a waste. I remembered how Eddie Farmer liked to squirt his load over my face and tits. I know he did it to shame me, but I really didn't mind. He was the great Country Farmer, All-American, and my wonderful boyfriend. He was entitled to take his pleasure from me any way he pleased, and anyway, I loved the taste of his cum that I would scoop off my tits and then lick off my fingers. 


Perhaps it was the relationship I had with my father, but all my life I have been titillated with the thought of being a slave girl. I have often masturbated to the fantasy that I am a sexy harem concubine owned by a cruel Arab sheik. His guards lead me naked to his tent by a rope around my neck. There I am made to service the penis of my desert master. He clamps my head between his strong hairy legs and forcibly feeds his great prick into my mouth. I suck him frantically. When at last he begins to ejaculate, he pulls from between my lips and jacks himself frantically. His cum splashes across my face and hair drowning me with his load. White goo drips from my chin onto my neck and tits. Eddie Farmer treated me just that way, and like my imaginary slave girl, I always assumed that cum in my face was the reward I had a right to expect. 

As I sit in my window playing with my pussy my desert fantasy closes in on me stronger than it has in years. I can picture Pete Carr as my Arab sheik, straddling my throat, and drenching me with his load. Eddie Farmer was my worst nightmare, but at the same time he was the fulfillment of my every sexual dream and desire. Would I dare to see if Pete Carr might be the same? 

NO WAY. Nineteen years ago I became the chaste and proper wife of a respected physician. That is my real world now. I am no longer the concubine of a masterful barbarian stud, nor can I ever be that again. I was wrong to be peeping on this stranger, admiring his penis, and dreaming of the ways he might pleasure me. No matter how it tortured me to watch him, I could only sit there, look, dream..., and suffer. 

What I didn't know was that Peter knew I was watching all the time. He has since told me that he beat himself off that day purely for my benefit. He seemed quite proud of himself about it. It was all a part of his style, a cruel game he was playing, and he enjoyed every minute of it..., that bastard! I didn't realize it at the time, but Peter held all the cards in this sad little sexual poker game. 

I was in fact, already doomed.

-----------------------------------------------

PART TWO: REBECCA VISIT PETER

After that afternoon, I spent a lot of time in my sewing room. Peter didn't disappoint me. He paraded himself and his oversized sex organ in front of me almost every day. I knew watching him was only making things worse for me but I just couldn't stop myself. 

Then, a week or so after his first penis show, Peter added something new. That was the day that Mrs. Rebecca Angle first came to visit my sexy neighbor by his pool. My husband and I know Becky Angle real well. Her husband is the pastor at the Methodist church we attend. Becky is a very pretty red headed woman about my age with big boobs and a dynamite figure despite being a little on the heavy side. She teaches English at the same high school where Peter is now the coach and math teacher. 

When I first looked out my window that day, the two of them were seated at a table by the pool enjoying a shaker of what I am sure were cocktails. Both were fully dressed and sitting in separate chairs, all very conventional and proper. I could hear them discussing methods and problems of teaching adolescent students. I wondered about what was going on here. Pete Carr didn't strike me as someone that all that interested in theories of secondary education.

Becky repeated her visit several times over the next week or two, and each time what I saw was much the same except that the cocktail shaker was replaced by a pitcher that kept getting bigger with each visit. These little social afternoons were certainly becoming more alcoholic, and lasting longer too. "Candy's dandy, but liquor is quicker," I thought to myself.

Then one sunny afternoon the scene under my window suddenly changed. No longer prim and proper, Pete and Becky were both very much under the influence of whatever was in that pitcher. Nor was this any longer a polite discussion of educational theory between two fellow school teachers. No, this time a totally naked Mr. Peter Carr, and a scantily dressed Mrs. Rebecca Angle were frolicking in the shallow end of the pool. Playing 'grab ass' would be a better description. I could see Peter's discarded pants, shirt & underwear over by the diving board where most of Becky's clothes were also piled. Becky was still in her bra and panties, but wet as they were, the skimpy silk of those under garments didn't hide much. 

Peter was doing his best to strip Becky of her undies while feeling her up in the process. She kept telling him to "stop it" but her protests lacked conviction, and of course Peter went right on trying, tugging first at the her bra, and then at her panties. In their playful struggles Peter repeatedly grabbed Becky by her tits and ran his hands between her legs. Becky would complain that a gentleman shouldn't touch a lady like that, but her giggles denied any real indignation about his roaming hands. 

She was making a great show of trying to escape, but when she did slip away from Peter's grasp, she didn't seem very eager to swim for safety. Each time Peter caught her easily, and the two of them would resume their playful wrestling match. 

Peter's cock was already up and rock hard, sticking straight out from his balls like the jib mast at the prow of a sailing ship. At every opportunity, Peter would rub his rampant male weapon against Becky's body, and there wasn't much she could do to avoid him..., although she certainly wasn't trying very hard to do so. 

Once in her struggles her hand grabbed him by the prick. The grip on his tool didn't seem accidental to me, and she certainly held him a lot longer than was appropriate for a preacher's wife. It was obvious that she was thoroughly enjoying this introduction to Eddie's long woman tamer. Becky knew perfectly well what Peter wanted of her, and all three of us knew that it wouldn't be long she gave it to him. 

Eventually the silk of her panties gave way. In that moment Peter must have also run his finger into his victim's pussy because I saw raw desire flash across Becky's face. Peter saw it too, and he responded by pulling his flushed and still weakly resisting victim from the water and onto the big double air mattress that waited on pool deck. Ripping her bra away, he pushed the now naked woman flat on her back. She lay there in quiet surrender. Her breasts rolled flat against her chest, and her knees were up and spread as if resigned to what she knew would happen next. 

Peter knelt upright between those knees, his cock barely touching her pussy lips, but there he paused and waited. Gloating over his conquest, but watching his captive female closely, he carefully measured her response to her compromised situation. What he saw in Becky's face must have satisfied his predator instincts because with a one quick motion he grabbed her by her ankles, yanked her legs straight up over his head, and then spread his arms straight out to each side, splitting the cunt of his female toy wide open. Becky, neither protested nor resisted. She lay quite passively on her back with her legs as wide apart as they would go, her shaved pussy gaping open and defenseless, ready for his use. 

That bald crotch caught me by surprise. Who would have thought it? What kind of a chaste and faithful preacher's wife keeps her pussy shaved clean of pubic hair? Had she shaved hers crotch for her husband or for Pete Carr? I'd be willing to bet the farm that Pete Carr was her reason! Why that shameless little redheaded whore! She had meant all along to be seduced by my sexy neighbor and his oversized prick! I wonder how long ago she shaved her pussy for the big event?

Becky, however, began to have second thoughts, either that or she was desperate to excuse her guilt in what was about to happen. Suddenly, but far too late, she tried to squirm away from the fearsome male weapon that threatened her pussy, and for the first time she seemed to be sincerely protesting against what Peter was doing to her. 

"No, no, Pete. This mustn't happen. I am married..., a Christian woman. I've never done anything like this before. I can't let you do this to me," 

Pete, however, had poor Becky spread and helpless, and he intended to enjoy the fruits of his conquest. Like a wrestler seizing his final winning hold, he dropped between those open thighs, and pinned his struggling victim beneath his full weight. His hips and giant cock were pressed solidly against her feminine core, and if rape was his intent, it was now inevitable. 

Rape, however, was not going to be unnecessary. Becky might have been uncertain and afraid of the consequences, but she was in heat, and she could have no more refused the big cock of this sexy stranger than she could stop breathing. Peter knew that too, and continued to apply pressure to the protesting but hopelessly horny red head. He French kissed her passionately. All her complaints were abruptly silencing by a tongue that forced its way deep into her mouth. 

Well, that did it! All this was surely a new experience for poor Becky, I doubt that she had never been kissed like that before, and certainly never while on her back with an insistent lover and his ten inch cock between her legs. For sure, I couldn't picture the Right Reverend Angle on top of his spread eagled wife with his hard cock pressing against her bare and open cunt. The Reverend Angle just wasn't the type to run his tongue down a woman's throat, and demand with every wiggle of his body that she submit to his animal desires. 

Raising his hips in the V between her knees, Pete abruptly seized Becky by one wrist and forced her hand into his crotch where her fingers grabbed his sex as if by reflex. Peter paused and waited, his ass still raised and poised for that final plunge into the pussy that waited under him. 

Becky tho, hesitated. I recognized that hesitation. It was too late to save her virtue, if indeed she even wanted to, but a woman about to be seduced must always make a show of resistance. After the deed is done our pitiful and feeble protest gives our conscience some excuse for being the sluts that we are. 

Peter, however, would allow poor Becky no 'outs.' He was demanding that before he would fuck her, she must admit the truth of her desire by stuffing his cock into her pussy with her own hands. 

Poor tormented Becky! She tried her best, I'll give her that. Even teetering on the very brink with a giant penis held temptingly in her hand, she fought hard to save at least a scrap of ambiguity about what she was about to do. Peter said nothing. The devil! He knew very well how this game would end. He waited patiently for her decide, his hips still raised and threatening. Finally, as if negotiating for a compromise, she began to slowly jack his foreskin up and down over the cock head. 

After a minute or two of masturbating his prick, I saw her look up at Peter longingly, and say something to him I couldn't make out. She must have thought that sweet words might slip her past the trap she had fallen into. Peter, however, remained resolute. He wanted her surrender, unconditional and absolute. He was not to be put off by with a feminine hand job, no matter how loving. 

I heard his answer to Becky's plea quite clearly. He left no room for further equivocation. He called her his bitch, and he told her for the first time what until then had been unsaid..., that she must insert him into her cunt with her own hand. 

Becky, however, remained determined to salvage something of her honor despite her hunger for this man who lay between her legs. 

"No, No, we mustn't," 

It was the best she could do, all the resolve she had left. She pouted a little, and even renewed her futile squirming under him, although she never turned loose of the penis in her hand. It was all much too little too late, however. Peter's answer to her final effort to resist him, was to slide his arms under her knees, and force her thighs up and back against her full breasts. Her female slit came open under this new pressure, and poor Becky was suddenly even more vulnerable than before. 

Pushed beyond caring, Becky could delay no longer. I heard the moan that announced her surrender. Her fingers brought the head of Peter's long thick woman tamer in line with her slit, and deftly pushed it between the lips of her pussy. Pete punched his hips down and then forward. Becky cried out with the wail of a woman announcing the arrival of rock hard male flesh inside her. I know all too well what it is like to be filled that way. I also knew that henceforth, Rebecca Angle would belong to Pete Carr, forever willing to do anything he might demand of her to have him in her again..., and again..., and again. 

I knew because I had already been down the road where Becky was now going. For five dates over two weeks I refused to let Eddie Farmer fuck me, although I sucked him off at least once every time we went out. On our third date had I let him put his hands between my legs and inside my panties. He fingered my virgin pussy to a string of orgasms. God, how I did enjoy having him do that to me while I sucked on his dick.

He was at 'third base', and he knew it was only a matter of time before I gave in. My friends refused to believe that after two weeks I was still a virgin. Apparently no girl had ever gone beyond the third date with Eddie without having his cock buried in her cunt, even if he had to rape her. I think he was more patient with me partly because I was a challenge to him, and partly because my blow jobs were so enthusiastic and satisfying. 

It was on our sixth date that Eddie had decided that he had waited long enough to plucking my cherry. He skipped the usual movie and took me straight to an apartment of a friend of his. He told me right off that either he would fuck me this night or we were through. Well, I was ready too, or I thought I was. I hadn't even worn any underwear. Eddie had hardly closed the door behind us when, without being told, I stripped off my skimpy summer sun dress and spread my self on the bed. No teenage girl was ever more willing, or in a bigger hurry, to give up her virginity than I was that night. 

It was a mistake to let Eddie see how horny I was. He seized upon my passion as a weakness to be tormented. He took his good old time fiddling with the stereo and having a cold beer before he even started to bed. I was in heat, and desperate for him to stick it in me. For a week now I hadn't been able to sleep I was so caught up in my romantic fantasies about having my adored lover between my legs, and his cock buried in my cunt. 

Now that it was about to happen, but Eddie was enjoying my impatience that grew with every passing minute, and he made me wait. I could only lay there with my legs spread obscenely apart, aching to have him in me, while he paraded naked around the room more or less aimlessly, enjoying his bottle of beer. 'It' was swaying with his every step, and I lay there mesmerized, lusting after that long fleshy tube that was so near, but as yet so useless to my need. 

Finally, I began to sob hysterically as I begged my lover to come fuck me. Eddie didn't care about my distress. He made me admit that I was a slut and a whore, and that I was his property, his slave to do with as he pleased. Before he would even kiss me he insisted that I prove what an oversexed tramp I was by frigging myself to an orgasm with my own finger while he watched. Only after I had been thoroughly shamed did Eddie crawl between my knees. Once there, he raised himself a few inches, and just as Peter had done to Becky, Eddie took my hand, and forced my fingers around his cock.

And he did so with almost exactly the same words as I had just heard Peter use with Becky. "Put it in for me, bitch." 

I had long wondered how I could take something so large in my tight little hole, but God, right then I wanted Eddie Farmer in me more than I ever wanted anything in my life. Hoping for the best, I started the thing into my slit, wedging it in as best I could, but keeping it between my fingers hoping to control the thrust I knew was coming. I whimpered to my lover (as if Eddie ever loved anyone but himself), reminding him that I was a virgin, and to please be gentle and not hurt me. I should have known even then that Eddie was incapable of caring whether he hurt me or not, and he didn't. With a single thrust he drove that monster penis through my hymen. With a second hard hunch of his hips, he buried the rest of his ten inches in me, all the way to his balls.

I screamed in pain, and spread my legs as wide as I could. It must have been true that I was every bit the horny little slattern I had just admitted to. Even deflowered in that cruel way, my pain soon began to ease, and as it did so, I was overcome with the warmth of being stretched and filled. I locked my legs around Eddie's the way he told me, and churned my hips in sync with the prick he was pumping in and out of me. With each stroke I could feel his hard flesh rub across my clit. Within minutes, maybe seconds, all my hurt was gone and I wanted more. Indeed, I was quite vocal about it..., begging shamelessly for more..., more..., more.




My Neighbor Ch. 1



By this time I must have been almost incoherent! I screamed at my lover, begging him, "Fuck me. Fuck me please. Don't ever stop. More, Please! Deeper! Harder! For the love of God, give it to me. Give it all to me!" 

I am told that very few women orgasm on the fuck that breaks their cherry, but I did..., over and over. I bled like a stuck pig its true, but damn, it was all soooo gooood. Perhaps it was the size of his cock. Perhaps it was because I had waited and yearned for this for so long. Perhaps I was just getting even with my father. Or, perhaps I am just a born slut. Whatever it was, I was in heaven..., and forever hooked on really big pricks. From that day to this, I have never recovered from the way Eddie bred me that night and in the weeks that followed. 

As I watched Peter fuck Becky that afternoon, I was so envious of her I could hardly stand it. Below me Peter was putting it to poor Becky with all his might. His fish had taken the bait and he was quick to set the hook. Becky was rolling her head from side to side as Peter stroked his long hard rod in and out of her stretched cunt. Almost immediately her screams announced the arrival of an orgasm. At least three more intense climaxes followed before Peter finished in her, and then rolled away to lay beside her. Both of them just lay there breathing hard. A dribble of his jism oozed from her hard used and distended cunt. 

Peter grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head down to his suddenly soft penis. It was greasy now with their mutual fluids, but Becky didn't hesitate to do what he wanted. Almost gratefully she opened wide to swallow him down her throat as if she had been sucking a ten inch penis all her life.

The male meat Beck stuffed into her mouth was partially flaccid. It didn't stay that way very long. In only minutes, Peter began to regain his hard-on and Becky was making little mewing sounds as her head bobbed up and down on the erection that was growing in her throat. This was a woman no longer reluctant to play the whore. Her mouth was full of a male sex organ that was steadily growing bigger and firmer, a prick almost ready to pleasure her once more. Having him in her cunt again was all that mattered to her. This wreck of a once chaste and virtuous preacher's wife and mother was in heat, ready to do anything her stud demanded if only he would fuck her again with his great prick. 

Once more hard and ready, Peter demanded that his helpless victim lay back and spread her legs for him a second time. This coupling was quieter and more sustained that the first. On top of her once more, he again insisted that she insert him into her pussy. This time Becky was quick to comply, but that simple submission was no longer enough for Peter. Now before he would pump his hips, or let her move hers, she had to beg him to fuck her as well. She did so willingly and with enthusiasm. She was his slut now, and eager to admit it if he would just reward her with more cock. 

Satisfied that he had her total surrender, Pete began a slow deliberate piston stroke, driving his long tool deep into the frantic woman's core, and then withdrawing it at the same measured pace. I could hear Becky whimpering as her orgasms rolled over her, one after another. In a world all her own, she begged over and over for her lover to fuck her, and to keep on fucking her, in almost the same words I had used to plead with Eddie almost twenty five years ago.

It was a full fifteen to twenty minutes this time before Peter finished by straddling her neck and hand jacking his ejaculation into Becky's face. Still, Peter was not yet satisfied. He remained kneeling over her face with his great cock hanging down just above her mouth. Becky no longer needed to be asked. Still hungry for the male meat that had pleasured her so well, she raised her mouth to him and took his cock head between her lips. Eagerly she nibbled and sucked upon the big hard ridge around the glans until Peter was ready to fuck her for a third time. 

For this encore, however, Becky would have to do the work. Peter laid on his back with his dick erect and ready. Becky stood directly over him looking down and carefully calculating her aim at the huge erection that was pointing upward at that vital spot between her spread legs. Slowly her knees bent and splayed as she lowered herself onto the male pole that waited below her pussy. As she neared her target, she paused for only an instant as her hand reached into her crotch to join them together. Once that great hard-on was solidly pegged inside the lips of her pussy, Becky resumed her gradual squat, slowly enveloping him until she was fully impaled. 

I could remember how good it felt to sit down like that on a long slippery cock. Yet, I was amazed how easily Becky took a penis in her cunt that was every bit as large as one of those exaggerated dildos sold in sex shops. With all that dick buried deep in her belly, I'm sure Becky must have been on fire, yet she sat there quietly at first as if enjoying the sensation of her sex being pried apart by such an oversized male tool. Her new lover was patient with her mood. He reached up and began to play with her boobs, concentrating on her nipples, twisting them cruelly.

Then, as if triggered by this new sensation in her tits, Becky began to use her thighs as springs, slowly bouncing up and down on the masculine peg that held her captive. Faster and faster she pumped herself on that cock, sliding up and down, up and down, all the while babbling incoherently. Despite the heat of his partners passion, Peter demonstrated an awesome control over his own pleasure. With stamina like I have never seen before, he withstood this impassioned assault upon his cock for minute after minute as I watched in disbelief. Finally, however, just as the muscles in poor Becky's legs began to tremble, and it seemed she was near collapse, he filled her pussy with his third load of the afternoon. 

Becky rolled away from him and lay quietly on the pool deck as her orgasms subsided. Finally she sat up weeping. Her passion spent, Becky had no illusions, and no excuses, about how her life had just changed. She had not only just been fucked by a stranger, she had begged him for it, and then stuffed his cock into her pussy with her own hands. 

Heavy guilt fell over Becky like a cloud as she tried to explain to Peter that they could never repeat what they had just done; how she had a good husband who loved her; and children who, if they only knew, would never speak to their mother again. She said that she was a sinner, a loose woman, and that she would probably go to Hell because of this. She began to cry harder as she passionately confessed to him how ashamed she was. What she had just done must never happen again. 

Peter said he understood, and that he still 'respected' her despite what had 'just happened' between them. Everything he said was bullshit. He knew, and I knew, that all this 'post fuck remorse' was meaningless. The old Rebecca Angle, the prim and proper teacher and preachers wife, was gone forever. In her stead, there was a new Rebecca Angle, a red headed slut with big boobs and meaty thighs who was forever hooked on Peter's big cock. Once hooked, an addict will always returns to his or her weakness. Becky would soon come back to hers. Not only she would fuck Peter Carr again, she would do so on any terms Peter demanded. 

God help her!

Sure enough, two days later, there she was, naked with him in the pool again. That scene repeated itself almost ever week day afternoon for about a week and a half. All that time I watched as they sucked and fucked each other like a couple of teenagers. It was clear that Becky had lost control of herself and the situation. 

Once she spent all night in his bed. I can't imagine what lie she told her husband to arrange that. That night Peter left the light on (purposely so that I would watch as I now know). Well I did watch. I watched as Peter fucked her mouth, her pussy, and in the ass for the first time. I'm sure Becky had never before in her life even considered such a thing. 

As her will to resist eroded, she became more and more submissive to Peter's kinky and abusive demands. Now totally his love slave, at his command she regularly crawled across his knees to be spanked for some misdemeanor, real or imagined. I knew from experience that it wouldn't be long before Peter's open hand would be replaced with a belt, a crop or a whip. 

One day I had been shopping in the early afternoon and I was late looking in on my neighbor and his mistress. Becky was by then already buck naked sitting on the side of the pool, and Peter was standing hip deep in the water between her spread legs making a meal out her pussy. 

I opened my window a bit so that I could hear as well as see what was going on. Becky was whimpering in delight at what he was doing to her. She was trying her best she not to be so loud as to attract attention, but she was certainly making it quite clear what she wanted done to her. 

"Please don't stop; Lick me there; Keep on licking me there..., Lick my clit, damn you. I'm going to cum, lick me you horny sexy bastard, make me cum."

In reply he raised his head from Becky's crotch, plunged all four fingers into her pussy and demanded her surrender. 

"Tell me what you are, preacher's wife!! Admit it or I won't fuck you!"

Peter never let Becky forget who was boss. He almost always refused to fuck his poor captive until she told him how badly she wanted his cock. It was the regular price Peter made her pay every time she was privileged to use his dick. Becky's answer came in a hoarse whisper from a script that was by then well rehearsed. 

"I'm a whore...,your whore Peter! You own me! I am your cunt slave, your slut, your whore! When you are between my legs I am the whore of Babylon in the service of your cock. My pussy, my ass, my mouth, they belong to you. Use them as you please. Fuck me in any hole..., but you must fuck me." 

"I am a slave to your great penis. Please ..., Please, give it to me..., stick it in me..., split me open..., fuck my mouth, fuck my ass, fuck my pussy, ram it in as deep as you can..., fuck me until I can stand it no more. When you're done, let me clean you in my mouth. I love your taste all mixed with my cunt juice. I'll make it good for you I promise..., just don't tease me like this and make me say these awful things." 

Poor Becky was in tears by the time she finished her pathetic mind-washed and programmed babble. Peter must have been satisfied with her obedience because pulled himself out of the water and laid her on her back on the cement pool deck. He took her without a towel or a blanket to protect her poor backside from the harsh tile. He fucked her hard too, pounding his cock in and out without mercy. I wondered as I watched how Becky was going to explain her raw butt to her husband.

She wasn't concerned about her husband right then tho. Once that cock was in her, she forgot about everything except the man meat that filled her. As the waves of orgasms washed over her, she was not in the least bashful about announcing what she wanted from her lover. Peter worked her long and hard before he let himself cum, but eventually the time came (as it always does with every man), and he spurted his jism into her vagina.

He rolled off of her then. I heard her sigh "My God, Peter, but that was soooo gooood".

His response was to grab her by the hair & pull her head down to his cock slippery with cum and pussy juice. 

"Suck me Whore!"

I remembered how Eddie Farmer used to make me do that after he had fucked me. Like Peter, he was neither gentle or loving in his demand that I take the penis that had just pleasured my cunt into my mouth. It demeaned me to have to do it, but at the same time, I loved feeling him become hard again against my tongue knowing that in a few minutes he might fuck me again. 

Today, however, Becky was not so grateful a slut as I had been. I had never seen her resist sucking him clean before, but this time she inexplicably whimpered in protest and tried to pull away. Pete did not accept this revolt gracefully. He grabbed a handful of hair and cruelly forced Becky's disobedient head down to his penis, but again she tried to pull away from the servile task he demanded. Her resistance seemed only to excite the horny in Peter, however. I could see him growing stiff just from the poor woman's refusal. With a jerk of her head he drove his hardening prick down her throat. Becky would suck his dirty cock or else! 

I heard him yell at her. "Suck me slut! I have another load for you. This one you are going to eat. Eat me, damn you! Swallow my cock and drink my cum.., suck me off you whore before I take my belt to your fat ass"

Voluntarily or otherwise, Becky began to service the fat male rod that had been forced down her throat. Her head was bobbing up and down and slurping sounds were coming from her mouth. Peter never turned loose of her hair. Whenever her effort slowed, I could see the muscles of his arm tighten as he yanked her down on his cock, driving even more of its length down her throat. Finally, his expression changed, and from the corners of Becky's mouth white globs of cum leaked out and hung from her chin in long strings. Peter kept his grip in her hair and made her keep her head in his crotch for a long time as his now flaccid sex organ soaked in the saliva of her mouth. 

"Clean me!" he ordered, and Becky dutifully went to work licking the cum out of his pubic hair and off his belly.

Long minutes went by. Finally, he pulled the woman off him, and as they both stood up, he snarled his orders. 

"Be here at 7 next Tuesday night, bitch. I've have some business associates coming by for drinks. As horny a bunch as you have ever met, they will flat wear out your red headed pussy. You're gonna love it."

Rebecca protested immediately. "No, Peter, don't make me do that. I told you before I just can't do that. You know how difficult all this is for me. I may have given you every right to call me your slut, but that's only for you. I'm not some trailer trash whore who goes around screwing strangers."

Anger flashed across Peter's face and his reply came out bitter and snarling. 

"Listen slut! Let's get it straight who the boss is around here. You will fuck anybody I tell you to. That's what makes you my whore. It's tit for tat you might say. You show my horny friends a good time, and I show your horny cunt a good time..., otherwise hit the road bitch."

Becky tried once more to say no, but Peter would have none of it. He grabbed her by her nipples and yanked hard, pulling her to him. His voice was livid with anger!

"Shut up, God damn it. You are going to be here Tuesday night, ready to put out, and that is that! Either you take care of my friends, or get your fat ass out of my sight. Go on home if you want, and see if that whimp preacher you're married to can give you ten inches of what you need."

"All right," Becky began so quietly I almost couldn't make out what she was saying. 

"All right! We both know how weak I am. I've let you overwhelm me with pleasures of the flesh. As ashamed I am of myself, you're right. I am a whore, not even an honest whore at that. An honest whore sells herself for money at least, while I cheat on a good husband for nothing but my own pleasure. It is only right that I pay the price for my iniquity, but if I am a whore, you are nothing but a pimp. I didn't understand that before, but now I do. Yet what is a whore without a pimp? Its the law of the brothel. A whore must have a pimp to tell her who to fuck. Well then my pimp, bring on your friends. Give them your whore to fuck. Whore that I am, I will play my part. I will get them off, every one of them."

With that the poor woman collected the discarded pieces of her bikini from the pool deck and went into the house without another word. I couldn't tell for certain if she was crying, but despair had settled around her like a cloud. I knew exactly how she felt. 

I knew because I had been through it with Eddie Farmer. I can never forget the horror of that night. I had refused to go at first. Then Eddie stripped me naked, tied me face down across a coffee table, and beat me with an electric extension cord in front of his fraternity brothers. I was humiliated, and I hurt terribly, but like Becky it was only when Eddie threatened to take his cock away from me that I finally agreed to fuck his friends. 

Eddie drove us along a dark and lonely road through dense pine woods to where three of his trashy friends were waiting in a cabin off in the middle of nowhere. I wept all the way there. When we arrived, all three of them were already drunk and naked. Eddie soon joined them, and they all became drunker yet as the night went on with Eddie becoming the drunkest of all. 

Eddie made me take off my clothes and get on my knees. One by one, while the others watched, I sucked the four of them off...and then..., and then I sucked them hard again. One at a time I mounted their pricks and rode them hard, bouncing up and down, my tits flopping, my hair flying. I didn't care. All that mattered was that if I did what Eddie wanted, he would keep on fucking me with that big dick. 

And, Oh, God yes, there is more. I took them two at a time, one in my ass and another in my pussy. Then I would suck on the cock of the third one. It shamed me then and it shames me now, but I orgasmed over and over again on the erections of those awful boys. I couldn't help myself. Publicly whipped with an electric cord, then forced to play the whore, my deepest submissive desires had been fanned into a firestorm. I was a frenzied bitch in heat, desperate to get myself off, as one by one my tormentors filled my distended and abused pussy and ass hole with warm sperm. 

A woman gang banged is woman hopelessly enslaved by her passion to be filled with male meat. I couldn't bear to see what happened to poor Becky that next Tuesday. I had Alvin take me out to dinner and then to the late movie. When we got home the Carr house was dark. I guessed that Peter's buddies already had their fill of Becky and had gone home.

Thank God! I wouldn't have been able to resist watching..., and I would have been devastated by what I saw. 

* * * * *

This is a story that did pretty well at another site. I thought I would bring it to Literotica to see if the readers here would enjoy it. As always, it is only by your vote and feedback that I can tell if you are really out there in cyber space. Its not always easy to write these stories, and its very important to me to know you are reading and enjoying them. Please vote, and I will answer any feedback if you will include your correct e-mail address. Please...at least vote. I await your opinion.



My Neighbor Ch. 2



For the next four or five days I managed to stay away from my sewing room anytime when Peter might be home. I was even recovering a little until one hot August afternoon my virile neighbor caught me working in the yard. All I had on was a T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, the gym class kind with the short loose legs and elastic at the waist. My only underwear was a pair of bikini panties barely big enough to keep my pussy decent under those skimpy shorts. I was dirty and wet with sweat. 

I wasn't even aware that Peter was there until he spoke to me. "Hi, Melanie, isn't it time you took a break" 

He was already standing over me when I looked up. I knew in an instant he was taking inventory of my bare legs, and of my braless nipples clearly outlined against my thin damp T-shirt. Peter didn't have much on in the way of clothes either, only a low cut spandex bathing suit that showcased an impressive bulge in front, and a pair of tight buns in the back. I panicked, my eyes frozen on that big bulge at his crotch, and at once fearfully conscious being on my knees before this scary male as if I was already his willing and obedient love slave. 

My head began to swim, and I thought, "If I lean forward just a bit, I will be able to lick his crotch. I wonder if I can taste his cock through his swim suit?" 

"Damn it Melanie," I told myself, "what are you doing? Don't think about things that. " 

But I couldn't help myself. I knew how vulnerable I must look kneeling there in the dirt in my revealing gym shorts and T-shirt. Under the wet fabric that covered them, my braless breasts were clearly outlined. Worse, hanging free as they were, they swayed with my every move. In this sexy show I was putting on for Peter despite myself, I might as well have been topless. Too weak to rise, I stayed where I was, vigorously pulling weeds as if to prove it was not submission that kept me on my knees. 

"Hello, Peter, how are you?" I had answered, too quickly, and I instantly regretted that I had not stood up. 

Peter grinned at me, somewhat evilly I thought. "Lady, you're all hot and sweaty. Come on over to my pool. You need to take a swim and cool off, and maybe something tall and cold to drink." Masculine charm just oozed from his invitation. 

"No, I don't think so," and I added my answer as quickly as my wits would allow, "These weeds are taking over..., I..., I've got finish this flower bed."

"Nonsense, I have a friend of yours at my house, and the daiquiris are already made. Come on and cool off in the pool. You can dive right in with what you have on."

Becky must be there I thought to myself. God, how can I face her after spying on her the way I have? Anyway, I must stay away from this man, or I'll be in the same fix she is.

"No, I just can't Peter. I'm not fit to be seen in public, and besides I smell"

"You always smell just like a woman should, Melanie. Sweet with perfume, but with a real female scent underneath." 

His answer to my excuse confirmed my suspicions. "So he HAS smelled me going into heat," I thought. 

I looked up longingly again at that lovely bulge. I needed to stand, but it was perhaps safer to stay on my knees. As ready as I was to submit to this man, it was certainly more appropriate. Peter decided the issue by lifting me by my arm pits. On my feet, but very close to him, at least I was no longer staring at his crotch Now I was looking directly into the hairy tan of his broad chest. My new view wasn't any easier on my raging libido and collapsing confidence. God how I wanted to bury my face in all that hair, breathe in his odor, and taste him with my tongue.

"Come on now!" He had his arm over my shoulder now, and was pulling me toward his driveway. "I'm not going to take no for an answer young lady. It is definitely time you had a swim and a cool drink."

"No, No, Peter, I mustn't..., I mean I can't..., Please, Peter...," 

I protested all the while he was walking me out of my yard into his. Maybe with Becky there, it will be all right I thought. Surely he wouldn't make a pass at me with her there. That, I knew, was pure bull shit. Eddie Farmer wouldn't have cared what Becky thought, and Peter won't either. He knows about me, the way I am, and he is taking me to his house to fuck me! God help me, why can't I stop him? 

Peter continued to ignore my excuses why "I just couldn't" as he pulled me along. A dozen steps and were at the gate to his back yard. Surely I could at least try to pull away from him couldn't I? No, somehow I just didn't have the will! Did I even want to escape? Escape from what..., that thick ten inches of heaven sent male meat between Peters legs? Or was it ten inches of hell? What did I want? In my panic I wasn't at all certain. A dozen more steps and we were through the gate and onto the paved deck of my neighbor's pool. 

"Melanie, I think you know Rebecca Angle..., the Reverend Angle's wife." That last, the part about being the preacher' wife, I knew he added to be snide and cruel to poor Becky who was already so flustered she could barely say hello.

"Certainly! How are you Becky," I replied trying to sound as natural as possible. Becky stammered something I couldn't quite catch in reply and pulled the terry cloth robe she was wearing tighter around her neck. Her bare legs, and the pile of her clothes on a chair, gave her away. I was sure that she was quite nude underneath, and had grabbed the robe in her panic when she realized her lover wasn't coming back alone.

"Where are our manners Becky," Peter asked facetiously. By all means bring Melanie a daiquiri."

Becky needed something to do, some way to escape her embarrassment, and she was quick to respond. The tall ice tea glass felt cold in my hand. I was hot and dry, and the icy rum and lemon tartness hit the spot, even easing my confusion a bit. 

It did occur to me tho that an alcoholic buzz was not exactly what I needed in my situation. Anyway, I don't think daiquiris are usually served in tall ice tea glasses, but I was hot, thirsty and flustered..,, and ambivalent about what was almost certainly going to happen to me. I gulped the big glass of strong liquor for the want of any better solution to my dilemma. By the time I had downed the second glass full, my head began to swim. As I staggered, Peter caught me in his arms, hugging me for the second time to that masculine bare chest. With his chest hair in my nose, I could enjoy his smell again. That threatening bulge in the crotch of his bathing suit was rubbing up against my belly. God it all felt soooo good..., but a voice inside me kept saying "come on Melanie you've got to get a hold of yourself." 

I wasn't listening. The voice inside me never the less continued to scream, "Run, Melanie, Run!"

"Thank you, Peter," I told him as I pulled away. "I'm all right now. I was just a little dizzy there for a minute. Let me take a swim. I'm sure I'll feel better when I cool off." With that I dived into the water before he could hug my body against his again.

The cool water of the pool was refreshing, and it cleared my head a bit. I was, however, still feeling the effect those two big rum drinks. I shouldn't have swallowed them so quickly. For the next few minutes I deliberately ignored Peter and Becky with a series of lazy backstroke laps back and forth across the pool. I had to get out and face them sometime tho, and finally I pulled myself up the pool ladder. 

What I saw gave me a jolt.

Peter had stripped both Becky and himself to the skin. He was sitting on the lounge with his feet off the end holding the naked body of his fellow school teacher held firmly between his legs as she struggled mightily to free herself. 

"Please don't do this to me, Peter," she pleaded with her lover. "I can't be here with you like this! Not with Melanie here.., Please Peter."

"Come here, Melanie," Peter called to me. 

"Rebecca didn't believe me when I told her that we have nothing to hide from you. Tell her Melanie. Tell her how you have been watching me fuck her for weeks now. I can't always tell when you are up there, but I know that you have been looking and listening. How many times, Melanie? How many times have you heard the preacher's wife here beg to suck my cock..., Please, Please, Peter, God Yesss Pete, Please Fuck Me?'" 

At the last, Peter's voice raised to a falsetto, mocking Becky's feminine pitch.

I couldn't think of what to say. Becky had stopped trying to escape from between her lover's legs, and was staring at me open mouthed shaking her head silently denying that anything of what Peter said could possibly be true. Finally I found my tongue. "Yes Rebecca its true. I have watched while you and Peter had sex together, and I am ashamed of that. But you Peter, you should be ashamed too. You trapped her into this, and now you're trying to do the same thing to me." 

With that I started to step by them toward the gate. It was a good try, I didn't quite make it. Peter's hand snaked up and caught my wrist in a steel grip as I tried to go past him.

"No, No, you don't my horny little cunt," he said pulling me down to my knees on the pool deck beside him. 

"I know when a housewife is aching for somebody to feed her wet pussy some real man meat, and you lady need to be fucked about as badly as any I've ever seen. What say you suck on it a little first to get us both hot and ready."

With that he turned Becky loose, and yanked me to my knees replacing her between his legs. Restrained by one with the hand around my wrist, he used his other one to gasp a fistful of my hair and force my face into his crotch. For a long moment he just held me there with the silky soft skin of his bare cock pressed firmly against my cheek and lips. 

I could feel him beginning to harden as he again asked, "You do want to suck my cock? That is what you want..., isn't it?"

My tongue was suddenly frozen. I could not even stammer a reply. Certainly, I wanted to suck him. To deny this man anything he desired was out of the question. I wanted to tell him so, but memories of Eddie Farmer came flooding back. I had been shattered when Eddie replaced me with some other piece of coed pussy every bit as ready and eager as I was to satisfy his dick. 

Now another man was holding my face against his big cock, again demanding my submission. Was submission the answer? Once he tired of using me, wouldn't he take away his cock and throw me aside the same way Eddie did? 

But..., there was no time to waste..., he certainly would if I didn't please him. If I couldn't speak, then I must act. I opened as wide as I could and sucked as much of him into my mouth as I could force down my throat. Eddie had taught me how sensitive the ridge around the head of a penis is, and I gave that notch special attention with my tongue. As he began to harden, I bobbed my head up and down over this ever stiffening rod, furiously raking him with my lips, masturbating him with my mouth.

As I sucked, I heard him talking to Becky calmly chastising her for her jealousy. 

"You see my sweet slut, while you were pouting and being silly, some other whore has come along and stolen your toy. Be a good girl and I'll let you play with yourself while I get it on with Melanie. I'll even fuck you again later on. If you don't straighten up your act tho, I'm going to hang you from the gym bar over there with one vibrator in your pussy and a second one up your ass. While hang there, you can watch while I fuck little Melanie with the cock that won't fill your cunt today, maybe never again. 

What you will get is my belt across your sorry fat ass before I send you back to your preacher man. With such a pretty neighbor in my bed, who needs you anyway? Well, what will it be cunt? You want to be a good girl and help me fuck this little blond tramp, or would you rather be hung by your wrists to watch me fuck her, then be whipped, and sent home to live with an unsatisfied pussy? Those are your only two choices."

"You win Peter," I heard Becky reply. "You know that I'll do anything to have you fuck me. O.K., I'll play your in your dirty little game if only you don't send me away, but don't forget your promise to fuck me again before I go home."

"O.K., then! Help me strip this little whore. I want her naked and climbing the walls when I fuck her. Remember how bad you needed my cock that first time, Rebecca? Remember how good it felt to be laid down all naked and horny, and then have my big hard dick in your cunt? Well, Melanie here is in the same fix. A slut has no shame when she's horny. Just like you did, Melanie will beg me like a whore to stuff her hot cunt with my meat. Afterwards, just like you, she will want more, and she'll do any slutty thing I want to earn it."

It was my mouth, not my ears that were filled with Peter's prick. I could hear every cruel demeaning word, and I hated myself for the truth of what he said. You would think that I would be too humiliated to allow him to go on degrading me. Well, humiliated I was, but that didn't change the my situation. He was right. More than anything I wanted to be on my back, my legs spread, with his huge prong splitting me open. Certainly I would beg him to fuck me. No price was too great to have his prick in me, but right at that moment, I was unwilling to take him out of my mouth so that I could tell him so.

Abruptly, Peter solved my problem. "O.K., Melanie my sweet little slut, that's enough for now. Stand up! Let's get a look at you. Rebecca you help her pull that wet T-shirt over her head while I get her out of these shorts." 

"All right bitch," he was talking to me again now, "raise your arms like a good little tramp, and let Becky get that T-shirt off. I want to see your tits." 

In less time than it takes to tell about it, the two of them had me stripped, and I was standing nude before my new cock master, while he inventoried my sexual assets. 

"Well now," Peter said as he reached up and took a tit in each hand as if weighing them against each other, "What a nice body. Any man would be proud to take it as his own." 

Suddenly Peter's voice lost its soft pleasant tone, and in a growl he snapped at me. "Listen to me bitch and listen good. Your body is mine now. From toenails to ass hole, to the hair on your head, I own you. I will do to you, and with you, whatever pleases me. You slut, will do as I tell you. Nothing in your wretched yuppie life matters anymore but serving my cock. If you disobey me, I'll hang you up by your thumbs and whip the skin right off your cute little ass. For right now I choose to amuse myself playing with your tits and pussy. I will do that often. Your first lesson as my cunt slave will be how to offer your body for my pleasure." 

Suddenly Peter became a Marine drill sergeant as he fired out his rapid fire orders. "THIS BITCH, IS HOW YOU WILL OFFER YOURSELF TO ME!! 

"STAND UP STRAIGHT!!

"MOUTH OPEN!! KEEP YOUR LIPS APART

"SPREAD YOUR FEET!! LEGS APART!! 

"ARMS UP!! HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!! FINGERS LOCKED!!

"CLOSE YOUR EYES!! KEEP THEM SHUT!!"

"STICK OUT YOUR TITS!!"

His instructions came fast and furious as if he was daring me to question him or make a mistake, but I had been a man's sexual plaything before. I knew to be quick and not to resist or protest. 

"This is 'cunt attention,'" he instructed. "It is the way you will stand whenever I, or anyone else that I may give you to, wishes to play with your body. It is your first lesson in how I expect you to serve me. Remember, you aren't a spoiled yuppie housewife any longer. You have reverted to what mother nature meant you to be, a tramp, a whore, a horny slut whose only value in life is the service of a man's penis."

Damn him! He was right! I was again the property of a cruel male animal..., a return to my roots as it were, my destiny, my natural state..., once more I was common female trash in heat..., a man's plaything..., all tits, ass and cunt..., an animal pet to be used and abused at whim of my owner. Oh, how I did need to be fucked by this man's proud prick! God help me! It was all so terrible..., and so wonderful. 

Terrible or wonderful, it made no difference. I stood there offering my body to this man, my eye lids tightly shut, my legs spread, my hands locked behind my head. I must have been the very picture of female submission, naked and quivering, my tits protruding, all my most private parts open and available to Peter's hands and mouth. Any resistance or protest was useless now. I was trapped, and doomed to my fate as a female slave. 

I waited expectantly. Surely my new owner would take full advantage his tempting and helpless slut, but at first nothing happened. Peter was teasing me, making me anticipate my fate. There was nothing I could do but hold that humiliating pose even as puss juice leaked down my leg. I was filled with fear..., and passion. I hated myself for allowing this man to abuse me like this, but I lusted for him to begin. 

"Damn you Peter Carr," I thought, "play with my tits, play with my pussy, finger my ass hole. BEGIN DAMN IT!" 

Then at last...,there it was, a finger tip gently stroking the slit between my legs. It was a caress was so unexpectedly soft and loving that I could not help but gasp in surprise. Loving he may have been, but Peter was also merciless. Once begun, he played me like a violin. His tongue, his hands, his fingers, they roamed everywhere, testing, teasing, tormenting, searching for the slut in me. Behind my ears, the back of my knees, under my tits, my arm pits, and up and down my legs, everywhere he teased and tempted me with shameless caresses. 

He knew my horny body had no defense to his sublime torture. He intended that I should be shattered and torn apart by my need for his cock. How long did it last? I have know idea, but suffering as I was from my pitiful desire to be fucked, it seemed like hours. When at last he returned to caress my legs and to stroke my inner thighs so near to my aching pussy. I thought I could stand it no more. 

"Good God," I said to myself, "if he doesn't fuck me soon, surely I will die," but damn him, even so close to my core, he refused to so much as run a finger up inside my pussy. 

"Please..., Please...," I thought. I was desperate to release the orgasm that was building in my belly. 

But no, this exploration of my body was for his pleasure, not mine. He could see my frustration and he was enjoying it. His mouth and fingers skipped past my crotch to and up to my vulnerable tits. These he rolled roughly in his palms before taking my nipples between his finger tips, playing with them, alternately tugging and pinching those tender nubs. 

Oh but that felt so good! Wonderful warm tingling sensations ran from my tortured tits down to my aching clit. God damn him tho, just as I was once more on the edge of an orgasm, he took his hands away as suddenly as they had come. Shortly, however, I felt his mustache brush inside my navel, but only very briefly before moving to join the fingers that were exploring my inner thighs. Then moving upward, those soft mouth hairs concentrated at the crease where my legs joined my torso, followed at long last by a finger that probed my pussy. 

That finger was soon joined by second one, and then a third as he split my sex apart. In and out he pumped those wonderful fingers, and all the while he was rubbing my tender clit with an opposing thumb. I was right in the middle of a shattering orgasm when, damn him to hell, suddenly his hand was gone from between my legs. One of those wet fingers pushed its way inside my mouth, soon to be joined by the other two. All were covered with my pussy juices. My owner spoke for the first time. I would, he ordered, suck those fingers as if they were his penis. 

The taste of my own cunt overwhelmed me. My orgasms came in waves, and unable to remain silent any longer, I began to whimper. I did so want Peter's manhood inside me, but I suspected that more trials were yet to come.




My Neighbor Ch. 2



I was right! His fingers soaking with my saliva returned to my eager pussy and beyond..., his thumb sank into my cunt and a strong middle finger pressed hard farther back along the crack of my ass. The tip of that finger, slick with the wet from my mouth, probed at my butt hole until it tantalizingly pressed its way just past my sphincter. Slowly his grip closed until I was caught in a vice, my cunt firmly pegged over his thumb, and my ass hole hooked on his finger. Abruptly his arm lifted, forcing me upward onto my tip toes. Helpless, I struggled to keep my precarious balance..., wobbling..., teetering..., not quite falling..., but suffering an exquisite orgasm even as I thought I would surely fall. 

As suddenly as I had been lifted, however, my feet were back flat on the floor. Peter's thumb left my cunt as quickly as it had come. My eyes were tightly closed, and the world went deadly silent except for my sobs. I could have been in a tomb. Then Peter's mouth was on my sex, swallowing my open cunt and alternately lashing my clit with his tongue. Peter dined between my legs, as minutes went by, or was it hours, and orgasm piled on top of orgasm. 

In the end, however, I was left hanging in frustration again as he worked his way up my belly to play with my tits one last time. Warm lips closed around my left nipple, and a talented wet tongue lubricated the tender flesh around the aureole. God, I was in heaven..., or was it hell..., caught in the throes of a constant climax, even before those strong lips closed down over my tender teat sucking it into long hard nub of sensitive nerve endings. 

Eddie Farmer's favorite thing when he had my nipples fully extended was to bite down on one. Eddie liked to hear me scream. Now, standing there all spread and helpless in the inky midnight of my closed eyes, I instinctively knew that my new master would be equally cruel. Women screaming in pain echo down thru the centuries, and certify the authority of the male over the female body. I tried to steel myself for the hurt I knew was coming, but I was trembling in fear as I waited. Finally, however, when Peter's teeth did at last close down on my nipple, I was so filled with passion that I orgasmed massively along with the pain. An electric sexual shocks cascaded through me from my breasts to my cunt. 

Having proven his right to hurt me if he wished to do so, Peter then sucked diligently on my teat to wash the hurt away. My breath returned, and my heart beat slowed. For the first time since my failed attempt to escape I dared to speak. 

"Please Peter, no more please! Please fuck me now!

"Listen to the little whore, Rebecca," I heard him say. "I had to teach you to beg for cock, but not this little yuppie slut. It comes naturally to her. I was certain it would." 

Pausing for a moment to heighten my anxious anticipation, he again hooked a finger into my pussy, and once more lifted me upwards onto my toes. This time it was his index finger buried in my cunt while his thumb clamped down on my clit. I hung there struggling to keep my balance against the pull of his hand, repeating over and over..., Please..., Please..., Please..., Please...," without knowing exactly what it was I was pleading for.

When he finally spoke again it with a sneering tone. 

"Please what, slut? Do you want me to fuck you? Where should I fuck you Melanie? Which of your holes shall use to satisfy my cock?" 

These were not questions but demands, the confident inquisition of an Islamic Sultan testing the desire of the concubine he had chosen for this night's abuse and pleasure. 

"In the mouth, Melanie? Should I fuck your mouth?"

At first I did not answer. I was too overwhelmed with my desire to please my new owner, and fearful of giving him the wrong answer.

"Speak up Melanie," I was told. "I will not give you my cock until you tell me where you want me to fuck you."

"God yes," I finally manage to whimper. "Yes, fuck my mouth! Please fuck my mouth! I want to taste you again!"

"No Melanie, I've already tried your mouth, and sweet as it is, I think I will enjoy some other hole this time." 

The sneer came back into his tone with his next suggestion. 

"How about your ass woman. What if I want you on your knees, your shoulders on the floor, and your rear end up, offering me your rectum. What if I make you reach back with your hands and spread your tight little ass hole that I might take my pleasure there? Would you like that, Melanie?"

"Oh, Yes Sir!" I answered quickly this time. Eddie Farmer had taught me this game. Peter was shaming me, making me grovel to prove his authority over my body. For many women, to submit their ass to their lover's prick was both painful and the ultimate humiliation. Not for me, however. Eddie Farmer had used me anally with some regularity. I found it painful at first, but as time went on, I became as passionately addicted to taking him up my butt hole as I did having him in my mouth and cunt. 

"Yes Peter," I was calmer now and able to speak more clearly despite the desire that was overwhelming me. 

"I am your slut! You own my ass with the rest of me. If it pleases you, I will give you my bottom hole, and hold myself open myself for you while you fuck my ass." 

In truth I didn't care in what hole he fucked me..., if only he would fuck me. How I ached for his cock. Whatever I had to do to have him fuck me, I would do. My submission was so absolute, there could be no redemption, no going back. I was his slut, and all that was left of my humanity was a primative sexual urge to have this man bury his long male member inside me, It was an urge a even greater, many times greater than I that I had for Eddie Farmer's cock.

"No I think not, not tonight any way," came Peter's reply. 

"It is fitting that I use your cunt when I fuck you for the first time. Do you want my meat in your pussy woman? 

"Yes! In my pussy Please! In my cunt! Spread my thighs and split me open with your great prick." I was shaking in my passion, and my voice was trembling. 

"Tell me again, Whore," my tormentor demanded. "Do you want me to fuck you?" 

"Oh, Yes Sir! Please take me, breed me, use me, abuse me, stuff me with your big cock. My holes are only for your use and pleasure..., all of them..., whichever one you may choose..., my mouth.., my cunt..., my ass. Just..., Please for the love of God..., just don't tease me any more. Fuck me somewhere, anywhere! If you will just fuck me now.., I will be your mistress, your slut, your whore, your cunt slave..., tomorrow and the next day, and all the days thereafter..., fuck me wherever and whenever you like, but please take me now!"

And take me he would. It was all over! Peter had broken me, and I was helplessly, hopelessly his to do with as he pleased! 

* * * * *

PART FOUR: SLUT BRED & SLUT ABUSED

You may open your eyes now my little blond slut. Come here and mount me!" 

Peter was laying flat on the patio lounge chair. His cock was standing straight up, hard and ready for my pussy. I swung a leg across the both he and the chair, and stood on the pool deck, astraddle of his belly and facing him. My God, how I wanted to sink down on him and slide my worthless cunt over the length of that magnificent male weapon. I knew better to move before I was told, however, and it is a good thing, because, Peter had something else in mind. 

"Sit down bitch, but on my belly in front of my cock, not on it," he ordered. "Let that lay against the crack of your ass where the preacher's wife here can enjoy it for a while. It's her turn. After all she has been here using it while you were still just watching." 

A mischievous gleam in his eye went along with his instructions. I suspected that whatever Peter had planned for Becky, she might not like very much.

I dropped my butt down onto his hips. As I did so, I let my legs hang loosely off the lounge chair on each side, wide spread and barely braced by toes just touching the pool deck. I could feel Peter's prick pressing against the groove of my ass, or at least I could until Peter pulled my shoulders down to him so that my hanging tits framed his face. 

"All right Becky," I heard him say, "go down on me. Suck my bone while I dine on the tits of this little blond bitch." 

With that he pushed my shoulders slightly upward and began to lick and suck on my nipples, first one and then the other. His tongue was both talented and experienced, and my pussy was soon leaking its juices all over his bare belly. At the same time I could feel Becky's cheeks rub against my buttocks as her head bobbed up and down on her favorite cock. Her lips must have been right at the edge of my wet pussy on every down stroke, closer I suspect, than she probably has ever been to a woman's vagina before. 

I knew from experience, however, that she was not nearly as close to another woman's cunt as she was going to be before this afternoon was over. 

Eddie Farmer had a little bleached blond tramp of a waitress from in town that he used as a regular sex toy even while he was fucking the shit out of some star struck coed like myself. Eddie, like many dominant men, got off on watching his women making lesbian love to each other. He had been stretching my pussy with his cock for less than two weeks before he introduced his townie bitch into our bed. One of things an innocent and sheltered little Melanie learned to do that night was to lick the pussy of that little bleached blond whore. It was something Eddie made me repeat more or less regularly in the weeks that followed.

"Yes Sir," I thought to myself, "Becky is going to be shocked when Peter makes her eat me. I wonder how she will like it when it is my turn to eat her?"

My thoughts were interrupted by a command from our master to Becky. "O.K., my fine red headed tramp, that's enough for now. " 

Then turning his attention to me he ordered, "Melanie, raise your ass so that Becky can slide my cock into your cunt." 

How humiliated poor Becky must have been to feed Peter's cock into my slit. Women are inherently jealous creatures. It is bad enough that a woman must share her man's cock, but to insert him into some other slut's sopping wet pussy is just about the most humbling thing a woman can be asked to do. I know that from experience. I fed Eddie's penis into the crack of his townie whore often enough, and I hated him, and her, every time he made me do it. 

My concern for Becky's feelings were easily forgotten, however, the instant she pressed the head of Peter's big rod against my pussy. I could feel her fingers spread the lips of my sex as she started him inside me. 

"That's right you red headed bitch," I said to myself. "Put it in for him. Help him fuck me."

I must admit, it made me feel very sexy and superior to my sister concubine for my owner to make her serve my pussy this way. Becky's misery was the fuel that pushed me past waiting for more instructions. On my own choice, I shoved my hips backward and down, enveloping that wonderful shaft with my love sleeve all the way to his balls. Already in the early throes of an orgasm, I began to rock my pelvis over the root of the male meat that was stretching me so wonderfully. I heard Peter say something to Becky but I was too far gone to catch what he said, or care. It had been so long since I had been fucked with ten full inches of warm male flesh that I had almost forgotten what real sex was like.

God, it was wonderful! Not only was I full of cock, Peter's hands, and then his mouth and tongue, and then his hands again, where all over my tits doing the most wonderful things to them. I must have orgasmed a half dozen times as I jacked myself off on the tube of male flesh that filled me. I should have prolonged the moment, but I just couldn't. All too soon, his penis spazmed under my pounding hips, and I felt warm rush of his sperm gushing into my vagina.

"Go lay on the air mattress," Peter commanded. "Spread your legs so Rebecca here can clean your cunt with her tongue." 

Rebecca didn't move, frozen into a horrified statute by the thought of what Peter expected her to do. I, on the other hand knew how pointless it is to resist a man like Pete Carr. Much as I hated to, I let his now softening prick slip from the grip of my vagina, and in a single bound I was flat on my back with my legs obscenely spread. 

Becky, however, squealed in denial, "No, no, God no Peter! You can't ask me to do that. I won't put my mouth on another woman's sex. I won't lick some slut's dirty pussy that's full of your cum."

Becky's protest fell on deaf ears. Peter was actually laughing at her when he said, "Come on Rebecca! Just look at that pussy, all stretched and open. Here's your chance to eat my cum that you like so much. Lick it out. Take all you want" Peter's mouth was in a sneer so pleased was he with the way he was shaming his pretty red headed victim.

"No, Peter, I won't do this," Becky continued to protest.

"I'm not asking you Rebecca, I'm telling you. You forget what you are now. You are a slut, my slut. You will do whatever I tell you to do!" 

Peter's snarling demand came at the same moment he sprang to his feet and grabbed poor Becky by the wrist. Cruelly he wrenched her arm behind her back. I could see the pain on Becky's face as Peter forced her wrist upwards until it touched her shoulder blade. Using his painful arm lock for control, Peter half carried, half pushed, the struggling woman over to where I lay spread eagled with my stretched pussy leaking cum. 

Becky was screaming "No, No, No..." all the way, but Peter used his leverage and drove his captive to her knees between my legs. With a final cruel twist to her arm he forced her face down into my crotch. His free hand grabbed a fistful of red hair and yanked her mouth over my wet pussy, stifling her final protests.

"Your tongue, woman..., use your tongue! Clean her crack!" Peter must have increased the pressure on her arm right then because I heard her muffled cry of pain, and her tongue immediately begin to stab its way into the goo of my wide open hole. Reconciled to her task now, and encouraged by the painful pressure against her shoulder joint, the tortured preacher's wife began to clean my hard used and gaping vagina with all the skill and enthusiasm of a veteran pussy eater. So often and so well did her tongue roll across my clit that I lapsed back into spasms of the orgasm left over from my ride on Peter's cock.

"All right, slut," I heard Peter finally say to Becky, "she ought to be clean by now. She certainly has enjoyed it, I'll say that for you. Now lay down beside Melanie and spread your legs. Its time for this little blond tart to return your favors."

Here it was, what I knew would come. He wanted me to lick Rebecca's cunt. Well I was ready. I was on a sex high, like an addict after a shot of heroin. I had just been fucked for the first time in years with a big demanding and rampaging cock, and then licked to even more orgasms by the tongue of a sister slut. I wanted more, and whatever I had to do to get it, I would do. 

Becky, however, protested. "No, please no, Peter. I'm not that way. I can't allow a woman to lick my sex." 

Frustrated by Peter's refusal to listen, Becky even tried to plead with me. "Don't do this to me Melanie! For the love of God, Don't do this sinful thing to me!"

"Shut up, you God Damned whore," Peter shouted. "I'm going to wear my belt out on your fat ass if you don't learn to do as you're told." 

Then turning to me he ordered, "Get to licking slut. If she doesn't orgasm in the next five minutes I'm going to whip your ass right along with hers."

Not if I can help it, I thought. I knew he meant what he said about whipping me. Men like Eddie and Peter are almost always cruel to their women. A woman hanging naked, helpless and suffering turns them on because it reassures them both of their masculinity and of our submission. Eddie could be mean as hell that way, especially when he was drunk. More than once he tied me to a tall bed post, or face down spread eagle across a bed, and lashed my naked ass and the back of my thighs with his belt. Peter's threat refreshed that memory, and I needed nothing further to encourage my obedience. I buried my face between Becky's legs, and to began licking that cute little bald pussy with everything I had. 

Becky was all tensed up, trying hard not to react to my tongue. It was no use. Eddie's little blond townie whore had taught me all the finer points of eating a cunt, and I'm damn good at it if I do say so myself. Once I uncovered her clit, and began to suck on that tender nub, the tension in her legs and body began to disappear. Soon her pelvis was rocking forward and back just the tiniest bit to meet my tongue each time I thrust it into her slit. 

Peter too could see that she was responding, and he began to taunt his poor red headed mistress. 

"Getting your pussy eaten isn't so bad after all is it Rebecca?" he asked with a sneer in his voice. "How 'bout it Rebecca? You want me to make her stop?" 

There was no answer. Peter repeated his question a third time before Becky could find the breath to reply. Gritting her teeth and forcing the words, Becky was just able to cling a bit longer to her pre-slut theology. 

"Yes, Please! Make her stop! I'll burn in hell for this. A woman can be forgiven her adultery, but not this! This is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord! Stop! For God's sake, make Melanie, Stop! St-t-o-o------" 

Even as she fought to deny the pleasure from my tongue, the hesitant small rocking of her hips became a sensual squirm. I knew she was on the very cusp of an orgasm, and I had no intention of giving Peter an excuse to whip me just to save Becky's sense of Christian morality. Right in the middle of repeating 'stop' a final time, her hips twisted under me and her scream announced her surrender to the sensations in her clit. That orgasm was only the first of several that came rat-a-tat-tat. 

Becky was in no condition to resist further as she bucked her hips frantically trying to drive her cunt deeper into my mouth. 

"No, No, No," Becky was finally able to babble to Peter, "I lied. I don't want her to stop! Please don't let her stop!! Oh dear God, I'm cummmming, I'm cummming! More! Please, more! Please, please, Peter make her keep on licking me. No! No! I don't want her to ever stop! Make her lick me more! MORE!"

"You bitch, you whore, you pussy licking slut!" Becky was screaming at me now, blurting out in dirty words the passion she could no longer control. 

"Don't you dare stop! I'll kill you if you stop! Lick me! Stick that whore's tongue in my cunt! Suck on my clit! More! More! Make love to my pretty pussy you blond strumpet! Bring me off, you Godless trash, you slut, you bitch, you God damn cock stealing whore! I need to cum. Make me cum. Tongue me! Lick me! Oh God, I'm cummming! I.., I..., God damn, I..,"

She would have continued babbling I'm sure, but Peter interrupted by kneeling over her face where he fed his hardening cock into her mouth. 

"Stay with her until she sucks me off Melanie," Peter's instructed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'm pretty sure she has changed her mind about wanting you to stop."

And I did stay with her, despite the way her hips were bucking upward, then dropping away, then rebounding back into my face. Above me I could hear poor Rebecca choking and strangling on the big male meat that filled her mouth and throat. Finally Peter announced his coming ejaculation. 

"Swallow it all you fat faced pussy eating dyke! Swallow my cum or drown in it." 

Peter was rocking his hips forward as he spoke sending his long prick down Becky's throat. I could heard his victim strangling on the overflow of male prick and jism, but Peter kept on raping her mouth, refusing to pull his prick back and give her a chance to swallow. 




My Neighbor Ch. 2



"Drown she just might," I thought. That was an awfully big load from an awfully big cock.

"All right girls, that'll about do it for ol' Pete today," Peter announced as he stood up from Becky. 

I lifted my from between her legs and looked inquiringly at the man to whom I had so completely surrendered myself. 

"Take a dip in the pool to cool off and get dressed," he told us. "Then go on home. Your pussies have my permission to service you own husband's pricks tonight."

"But..., but..., you promised to fuck me again before I went home." Rebecca was whining, on the verge of tears. 

Peter ignored her complaint, picked up his discarded swimming suit and started toward his back door. 

"God damn you, Pete Carr, you come back here." Becky words were angry. "I helped you fuck Melanie just like you said. You didn't say anything then about licking her pussy clean when you finished, but I did that too..., It may not have been my choice, but I ate your blond whore's dirty cunt, and I let her eat me besides..., I didn't want to, I'm ashamed of what I did and of the way I acted, but I did it. I have earned what you promised me."

"Why you horny old slut you," Peter interrupted, spinning around on his heels, his face livid with anger. "I promised to fuck you, and I did..., I fucked your mouth. If that wasn't good enough for you go on home and spread your legs for that whimp preacher husband of yours. I'll bet his five inches of holy rod is downright hungry for some of your hot pussy. A little bird has told me that Reverend Angle is a lot hornier a man than you seem to think."

Peter smiled knowingly as he made that last remark about Becky's husband. He seemed to be hinting at something that Becky knew nothing about, and I could see that it both puzzled and upset her. 

"And just what do you mean by that?" Becky was quick to ask.

"Well, maybe nothing at all..., and then again, maybe I know something you don't," Peter answered. 

"Any way, what are you complaining about. You got your rocks off big time on Melanie's tongue didn't you? If you want a dick in you as bad as all that, it might be a good idea to let your husband use your fat ass some. Just because he doesn't have as big a cock as I do, doesn't make him an eunuch. He probably needs to get laid now and then as much a the next guy. When was the last time you let him between your legs? I'll bet he doesn't even know that lately you have been keeping your cunt shaved as slick a baby's ass." 

Continuing, Peter smiled evilly, "So he doesn't get you off the way I do. Maybe he could learn. He just doesn't understand you like I do. He thinks you are a nice Christian lady, pure in thought and deed. If he knew what a horny slut you really are he might lay you better. Perhaps I should drop by some evening after supper. You and I could demonstrate for him..., kind of show your talents off, as it were. 

Let's see, we could start with you naked and on your knees sucking me off. I'm sure your husband has no idea what a great little cocksucker his wife is. What do you think he will say when he sees you swallow my cum? Do you ever do that for him Rebecca? Do you ever suck him off and swallow his load. Tell me! Do you?"

In my own imagination I could picture my friend kneeling naked and sucking on Peter's big cock while her husband watched. I could tell by the troubled look on her face that Becky was having the same vision, and she was not at all sure that Peter's talk was just an idle threat. Peter was such a powerful personality, nothing seemed impossible to him. However remote the chance might be that he would put her through such a humiliating display, his threat was sufficient to silence Becky's demand that Peter fuck her pussy once more today. 

Chastised, Becky dived into the pool. I was right behind her. 

On his way in his back door Peter turned and said to us, "Have a nice evening ladies. I enjoyed our afternoon together. I trust I will see you both back here tomorrow afternoon."

Becky and I both knew that was not an invitation but an order. We would both be back as demanded of course. Peter's cock was our addiction, and our hungry cunts would not give him up. Depressed by the understanding of our plight, we each dressed slowly, and lost in our own thoughts we did not speak. Without so much as a good night to each other, we departed through the side gate, Becky to her car, and me to my front door.

* * * * *

Now boys and girls don't you dare go away without at least voting. There will be a drawing for those who vote (a double chance for those who send feedback). The male winner will have his choice of Melanie or Rebecca for a weekend. For the woman winner, the prize will be Peter J. Carr himself as their new neighbor. Well maybe not quite. Melanie and Rebecca are fictional, but Pete Carr is quite real. He was a college fraternity brother of mine and my roommate for a year. I know he would be proud to live next door to one of you sexy ladies (true, Pete's a little long in the tooth now, but if I know old Pete, he's still willing and hasn't slowed down any). 



My Neighbor Ch. 3



My Husband arrived home a little later than usual that night. He was all excited and full of himself as he came through the door. "Great news honey," he told me, "my research grant has been approved. I fly to Washington tomorrow at noon to meet with Senator Causeway and tie up the loose ends and paperwork. The funding should begin next month."

"That's wonderful darling," was the best I could do for a response, preoccupied as I was with having just been fucked to a fare thee well by our next door neighbor. "You've earned it, and I'm so happy for you." It was true. He had earned that grant, and I was happy for him, but I was in a guilty funk about what a whore I had been today. What would he say if he knew?

Alvin was so up beat, however, that he didn't notice how quiet I was. He insisted that we go out for dinner to celebrate. All thru the meal I tried to drown my distress in brandy, and I was pretty loaded by the time we got home. Alvin had a snoot full also, and in his elation he choose this night of all nights to get amorous. Under the circumstances I could hardly turn him down. Bless his short little cock, he tried hard to pleasure me. He took his time with the foreplay, and even ate my pussy before he stuck it in me. After the way Peter had fucked me earlier, however, he just couldn't get me off. I faked 'the big O' though, and he dropped off to sleep satisfied.

I didn't sleep very well that night, and the next morning as Alvin packed for his trip, I fretted about the mess I was in. I knew that come 2:30 that afternoon I was due at Peter's swimming pool. I also knew that Peter would spend the afternoon abusing my body and turning me into an even bigger adulterous tramp than I had been the day before. 

No, Damn it! I am not a whore! Pete Carr can't run my life! I won't show up. That'll show the bastard! This is all fantasy, The son of a bitch doesn't really own me or my cunt. I refuse to be his captive slut! No more of this female submission foolishness! No more crawling at the feet of some man with a big prick. A woman has every right to control her own body. 

But, but then..., then, I remembered the ten inches of male love meat that hung between Peter's legs, and what that thing did yesterday for my poor sex starved pussy. I remembered those crashing orgasms, and how meaningless Alvin's lovemaking had been the night before. God help me! I did so need a cock, a real cock, a demanding cock, a cock that would force me to do its will..., Peter's cock. How could I ever give him up? No! I couldn't give him up. I won't give him up. Not for anything. 

"Face it, Melanie," I admitted to myself, "You're a born slut, happy only when you're on your knees servicing some generic bastard's oversized penis. Both you and the rest of the world will just have to learn to live with that."

And so it was that around 2 pm I changed into the same sort of jogging shorts and T-shirt that I had worn the day previously. No bra again of course, and today I even dispensed with the panties. I wouldn't be needing underwear for what Pete Carr had in mind for me, of that I was certain. Some lipstick on my mouth and nipples, and some perfume on my neck and pussy and I was ready.

I thought I might be a little early, but by the time I walked through the gate into Peter's back yard, he and Becky were already there ahead of me. They must have dismissed their summer school classes early and come straight to Peter's pool. By the time I arrived, poor Becky was hanging naked from her wrists handcuffed over the high bar of the little gym set at the far end of the patio. Peter was also naked and holding a small very limber branch from the hedge he must have just cut because a couple of leaves were still at the tip. 

Poor Becky was in serious distress! Her toes were just touching the ground barely able to take the weight off her arms. An angry Peter Carr was about to wear his switch out on her ass the back of her thighs. As her legs danced under the lashing, her head would fall backwards, and her arm muscles would go taught and quivering as she lost even the small support of her tip-toes. With every cut, a new flaming red stripe marked where she had been hit. When she tried to protect her backside by twisting around to face her tormentor, Peter would mark either her belly or her breasts with the same cruel red welts. I saw one strike land directly across her nipples. I can't even imagine how much it must hurt to be whipped there. Tears were streaming down Becky's face, and she was trying hard to make herself heard over her sobs. 

"Plea-Please, Please Peter no more. I--I--I won't d--do it ag--again. Whatever you t--tell me to--to d--do, I p-promis I-I'll d--do."

"You bet you will woman," Peter said, still lashing at her tortured flesh. "Here she is now! Tell her! Tell her how sorry you are for the names you called her. Apologize for saying she had a dirty cunt. Ask Melanie to please allow you to eat her pussy again." 

Peter punctuated his surrender demand with a particularly vicious swipe of the switch across the back of poor Becky's thighs. His effort was rewarded with a scream of pain!

"G-god p-please, Melanie, m-make him s-stop. I'm s-s-sorry that I acted l-l-like s-such a b--bitch. G-g-god I d-didn't really m--m-mean your p-p-pussy was d-d-d-dirty. I liked l-l-l-licking you. I s-s-swear I-I-I d-d-did. Pl--Pleas-sse let m-m-me eat you ag-again. I-I-I'll make it g-g-good for y-y-ou I sw-swear. "

"OK,' Peter interrupted. "Let's see if she means it. Strip Melanie! What the hell are you standing around in your clothes for anyway. You didn't come over here to play canasta!" 

Turning to Becky he released her handcuffs and took her down from the gym bar. "Lay down on the air Mattress Becky, on your back," Peter ordered, "and You, Melanie..., you straddle her, sit on her face. I want your pussy right over her mouth, and her tongue had better be up your slit."

Becky and I wasted no time. The threat of Peter's switch was too real for us to dawdle. In seconds I was naked, sitting with Becky's head locked between my thighs. As Peter had ordered, her tongue was as far up my trembling cunt as it would reach. 

"Spread your legs Becky," I heard Peter say behind me. "While you get Melanie off, I'm going to check out your pussy." 

I don't know what Peter did to Becky's cunt behind me, but almost immediately she went off like firecracker. She must have been hurting something awful, and I could only suppose that being strung up naked and whipped had been an aphrodisiac to her. Whatever the reason, whether Peter's abuse or his tongue, she dissolved into a sexual frenzy, frantically gorging on my pussy. Never have I been eaten like that before, not by man or woman. It was as if she couldn't to get enough of me in her mouth. I must have come a dozen times..., but even at that I was way behind Becky's almost continuous orgasm. .

"All right bitch," I heard Peter order from behind me, "get up and stand at 'cunt attention.' I am going to play with your worthless yuppie ass now, and Becky here is going to help."

Still concerned with avoiding Peter's switch, I sprang from Becky's face into the required position. I stood there as I had yesterday with my legs spread, my fingers locked behind my head, my tits pushed forward, my eyes closed, offering myself, inviting abuse. 

They began with their tongues. I could tell it was Peter licking my pussy because I could feel his mustache. That must be Becky then who was reaming my ass hole. Unlike yesterday, today she did not hesitate to invade the most intimate nooks and crannies of my body. The pain of her recent beating had taught Becky a hard lesson. 

Nor was the lesson of Becky's discipline lost on me. Standing there in the dark, the image of a naked and weeping Becky hanging helpless from the gym bar was frozen in my mind. Peter's switch probably didn't hurt any more than Eddie Farmer's belt, but Eddie never made a sexy spectacle of my beating the way Peter had of Becky's. The way his switch made Becky's legs dance, and her big tits jiggle was more than just a woman whipped. Punishment like that has a class that makes it an intensely sensual experience to both participants and spectators. 

Unlike Eddie Farmer, who would beat a woman just because he could, there was a purpose behind Peter's cruelty. Like every great cocksman, he knew that the female animal has an ancient and primordial desire to submit to a powerful male warrior. A woman hanging naked, whipped and helpless is, therefore, inherently erotica of the highest order. Peter understood as few men do how, when properly done, a whipping by a lover can stimulate a woman's natural submissive nature. I was living proof. Even though I feared and hated the pain, I was none-the-less fascinated by the thought of hanging hurt, humiliated, and crying at the mercy of this dominant and masculine stud. 

Even as I stood there, legs spread, tits out, offering my body to him as his plaything, I knew Peter was reading my thoughts. He knew I would be drawn to sexual punishment like a moth to flame, and switching poor Becky was only a part of his larger plan. When my turn to be whipped came, how would I respond? After all, Peter was no green college boy like Eddie, but an experienced cocksman expert at turning on the horny in a female sex slave. Like Becky would I go into heat and lust to have the bastard who was beating me stick me with his cock? 

On this day, however, a whipping was not to be my fate. Peter had decided that today I would receive the more subtle and sensual tortures of 'cunt attention.' 

I could only stand helplessly as two sets of hands, two of tongues, and two sets of lips erotically tortured my wretchedly horny body. The mouth, and the sensual mustache hairs that came with it, were no longer covering my sex. Now they nibbled at my inner thighs, and up into the crevices where my legs joined my body. My legs trembled as the sensation was accentuated by Becky's wet tongue licking at creases at the back of my knees, then between my shoulder blades and in my arm pits.

Then as suddenly as they began, both my tormentors were gone, replaced by a pair of soft female breasts that pressed sexily against my own. The phantom tits began to slowly rotate, ever so gently rubbing nipple against nipple, breast flesh against breast flesh. The mouth with the mustache then reappeared, behind me this time where a tongue probed at the crack of my ass, and then slowly worked its way straight up my back bone, up to my neck, and then on to behind my ears. As the tongue rose, the pair of breasts slid downward across my belly button and lower abdomen, and finished with one of my thighs enveloped in a channel of soft tit flesh. 

Good God, would these two ever return to my poor pussy that ached so in its isolation? Cunt fluid was running down my leg long before strong male fingers finally began to plunder that sloppy slit. I thought at first I was going to repeat yesterday's experience of being raised to my toes helplessly pegged on a thumb or index finger, but I was wrong. Today Peter's fingers were only confirming that I was aroused and ready for cock.

Withdrawing his hands from my pussy, Peter told me to open my eyes, and follow him. On that oversized air mattress at the edge of the pool, he laid down on his back. His prick was hard and erect, pointing upward from his midsection like the mast of ship. He carefully positioned me to where I was standing directly over his cock, but unlike the day before, now I was turned to face his feet. A tug at my hips told me that I was to squat. God, Please God, was this a signal to let myself down onto that pole of male flesh aimed so tantalizingly at my hungry cunt?

Yes! Yes! That must be it. I was, it seemed, about to be fucked upon that delicious prick that waited beneath me. I gingerly lowered myself, and held my breath as I felt Peter guide his cock head past my pussy lips and into my slit! Slowly I dropped another inch or so, uncertain how far I was allowed to go. I felt my pussy split and stretch to take him in, but I was not admonished or corrected. It was true, he was going to let me ride his cock! 

Overcome by my desire, my legs gave way suddenly, and as I landed on his belly with a rush, that huge rod buried itself in my cunt all the way to his balls. Once seated there, however, his hands held my hips in a steel grip, refusing to let me pump my slick pussy up and down over the hard pole that had pinned me and made me its captive. God, how filled I was with delicious male flesh. I ached with desire, desperate to move, but without my owner's permission, I could only grit my teeth and wait. 

Peter calmly explained he wanted me to bring him off using only the muscles in the wall of my vagina to grip and massage his prick. I had heard of women who had 'snapping pussies,' but this was a technique new to me, something Eddie Farmer had never demanded. I sweated and strained, a willing student, but not a particularly adept one, No matter how hard I tried to clench my pussy, I simply could not grab Peter's prick with the slippery insides of my vagina. 

It was not all bad, however. Even as I struggled to satisfy Peter's erotic demand, my own orgasm swept over me, aided I must admit by Becky who sat down beside me and began to suck my nipples. She did so without being told. What a change from her attitude yesterday. Who said an old whore couldn't learn new tricks..., especially when stimulated with a limber switch applied across her bare ass and tender tits.

After a while Peter tired of my meager talent as a 'snapping pussy,' and he pushed me forward and off his cock. I was disappointed that I had failed to satisfy my new owner, and even more distressed at the loss of the his big prick. Would he punish my failure by leaving me altogether in favor of Becky's tighter and probably better trained pussy? 

I whimpered a little and began to beg him to put his cock back in me. He told me to shut up and to again stand directly over him, still facing his feet. Slowly I once more lowered myself, but this time Peter guided his cock into my rectum rather than my pussy. This was the first time in many years that a man had taken my ass, and Peter's big cock hurt me as it went in. As you already know, however, I was no virgin back there, and the sheer eroticism of being butt fucked again after all this time soon took over and washed away the pain.

Peter, however, had something more in mind than a simple ass fuck. Once all of his love pole was deep inside my bowel, he pulled my shoulders backward so that I lay stretched full length on top of him facing the sky. Under me he slid his feet inside my ankles and then spread them wide splitting my legs apart and leaving my stretched but empty pussy exposed, vulnerable, and dripping with my sex juice. 

"All right Rebecca," I heard him say. "Remember what you promised your little blond friend just a few minutes ago. Well here she is, all spread and waiting. Get down there and lick that pretty pussy. Do your very best and keep in mind what might happen to your tender ass otherwise."

Becky had certainly not forgotten Peter's switch. Without a word of protest or an instant of hesitation, she obediently knelt between our spread legs. Looking down between my tits at my pussy I could see her crawling toward me on her elbows, her full breasts swaying under her, and her eyes big and wide as she stared at my wet cunt. 

Abruptly, her face dropped down into my crotch, and the top of her head began to rock and bob as her tongue raced up and down up the length of my gaping crack. My God, never had I felt anything like that..., my butt filled with a hard penis..., my cunt and clit scrubbed by another woman's tongue..., Peter's masterful hands playing with my tits, pinching my nipples, and all the while saying dirty things into my ear. 

In hoarse whispers Peter described in detail how tight my ass hole was, how hot my bowel felt around his prick, and how my spasming tissues were milking him with my every orgasm. I knew well enough that his great male member was stretching my ass hole, but he told me about it anyway, describing how, when he was finished, his cum would drip from my distended anus. He reminded me once more that I was his property now, and this was only the beginning of how he would use and abuse me as his slut, his whore, his sex slave. 

He demanded to know if I enjoyed taking his prick up my poop chute. I managed to whimper that I loved it. Then he asked me if I wanted him to give me to other men who would also fuck me in the ass. Before I could answer, however, he told me that what I wanted didn't matter anyway. He was going to make me suck him off in front of his friends, and when their dicks were hard from watching, he would let them take me in both my pussy and my ass. If I refused, he said he would hang me from the gym bar and switch me the same way he had Becky, and after I had been punished, he would rent me to some stranger as a prostitute. 

To be used as a public whore was not the worst of his plans for me, however. The worst, and the sexiest, of his threats was to make me strip in front of my husband and maybe even my daughter, and after they heard me beg for his cock, he would fuck me while they watched. 

A butt full of cock, a female tongue licking my open pussy, and all this sexy talk about my submission was more than I could stand. The images he planted in my mind set me on fire. God, what this bastard was doing to me was awful, horrible, and humiliating beyond tolerance. Stimulated as I was, however, I accepted without protest that he owned me, body and soul, and had every right to do with me as he chose. My pitiful subservience to his abuse triggered a climax that raced thru my wretched body and exploded like an A-bomb in my belly. Peter's ejaculation came almost simultaneously. 

When at last strong hands under my ass lifted my bowel off his pole, I could feel his semen leaking from my stretched and open ass hole in a hot gooey stream. He made Becky and I take a 69 position on the pool deck with me on top. I was told to lick my friend's pussy until she orgasmed. Poor Becky! She was given an even more humbling task. Lying beneath my spread legs, Peter's cum dripped from my ass directly onto her face and mouth as she struggled to clean my ravaged rectum. Peter watched with considerable glee while he directed Becky's efforts with humiliating suggestions.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze as Peter switched his attentions to Becky. He took great joy in shaming the poor woman before he would give her the sexual release that she so ached for. He would never just fuck her. Each time she had to beg him for his cock, and promise over and over that she would always be his slut and whore. Peter took particular pleasure in making her agree to suck his dick in front of her preacher husband. 

Even after he had humbled her, he would not just fuck the poor woman and be done with it. No, there are many ways to shame a woman, and Peter knew them all. He knelt behind her and demanded that she back up to him on her hands and knees "so that he could fuck her like the dog bitch she was." Once the end of his prick touched the crack of her ass, he insisted that she drop her shoulders to the ground in order to reach back with her hands and spread the cheeks of her ass for him as he teased her rectum with the end of his cock. 

Poor Becky was already half crazy with anticipation that he was going to fuck her ass when Peter suddenly switched, and with a quick short jab split her pussy open. It was still a tease, however, because even as he reduced to an animal bitch in heat hung up on the end of his cock, he still refused to give her more that just the head and maybe two inches of meat.

Becky pleaded with for him to give her more. "Please, please, fuck me Peter," she begged him shamelessly. "Give it all to me, I so need it in me. God damn you Peter Carr, fuck me with your big cock. Oh please put it all in me." 




My Neighbor Ch. 3



Peter only taunted and teased the poor woman's passion. "This is how much you get from that tiny dicked husband of yours isn't it? You were satisfied with this much all these years. Why should you need any more now? 

In time, however, the teasing ended. Like a cat bored with its still living mouse and ready for the kill, Peter rammed his iron cock home to the hilt. I thought Becky's scream was probably divided half and half between pain and orgasm. Once begun Peter fucked her harshly, even cruelly, as if he was punishing her for being such a slut. Repeatedly his hard hands struck her upraised ass, cruelly spanking that broad white butt even as he savaged her cunt. Tears were running down Becky's face, but if she wanted him to stop, she certainly didn't say so. To the contrary, to the best I could make sense of her babble, she was begging him to fuck her even harder. 

After he finished it was my turn to clean his cum from between poor Becky's legs. I didn't really mind because as I licked her, Peter spread my thighs and ate me with a deliciously long tongue that brought back the spasms of my earlier orgasms.

An hour or so before sundown, Becky and I were sent into his kitchen to prepare a meal for him. As Peter ate his meal, two thirty-something females knelt at his side, naked and obedient, alternately feeding him and playing with his cock. From time to time he would reach out and stroke a tit, suck on a nipple, or run a finger into one or the other of our pussies. The whole thing was weird, even fictional, like a harem scene from the Arabian Nights perhaps. 

Finally Becky was sent home, but with Alvin gone for the weekend, and my daughter visiting Alvin's parents in Texas, Peter came home with me. I didn't understand at first why we didn't stay at his house, but then it dawned on me. Peter was showing off..., demonstrating to me that I was longer Mrs. Alvin James, loving wife and mother. Now I was the slut of the man next door. Peter meant to prove his point by fucking me as he pleased right in my husband's bed. During the night he did just that..., twice. Both times he spread my legs and played with my tits and pussy until I pleaded for him to fuck me. I was deeply ashamed that even in my sweet trusting Alvin's bed I would beg this stranger to "stick it in me"!

But, good God Damn..., how good it all was!

* * * * * *

Next week Peter takes Melanie on a leash to meet his black assistant coach. The size of the cock she finds there is not her only surprise. As always though, the next chapter depends on your vote and mail. You liked the story well enough to read this far. Don't go away without at least leaving your vote behind so that I will know you were here. Thanks, JIGS



My Neighbor Ch. 4



When he was clean, I looked up at my black stud, batted my eyes coyly and asked, "Are you going to whip me now, Oh Great Black Cock, or did my worthless white pussy satisfy your Most Exalted High Horniness?"

"Don't be a smart ass white bitch, or I just might do that very thing," but he was smiling as he answered. I was certain that he had enjoyed himself just as much as I had, and for the moment at least, this black giant was quite as sexually sated as I was. On the other side of the room Dottie was still astride Peter's lap looking well fucked and pleased with herself, and Peter..., well Peter was sitting there grinning like a big happy bare assed bear squeezing a tit in each hand.

The men were hungry, after their exertions. Dottie and I, still naked with our leashes hanging down between our tits, were sent scurrying into the kitchen to fix breakfast. It was our chance to compare notes, but as we scrambled eggs and buttered bread for toast, Dottie not only refused to answer my questions, she wouldn't even look me in the eye. I refused to stop asking her what she was doing here, however, and eventually I began to break though her wall of guilty silence.

"Does dad know about this?" she finally asked. It was natural that she wanted to know whether my husband, her father, was aware that I had become Peter Carr's slut.

"No, of course not," I answered. "How about Fred? I asked, inquiring about her husband.

"Oh yes, he knows. In fact, he's why I'm here. The sun was hardly up this morning when the son of a bitch put this collar around my neck and drove me over here naked as a jay bird. He sends me to Harvey like this whenever that big black bastard in there gets horny for a white woman." 

My daughter's tone was bitter as she went on to say, "Harvey has a 'lease' on my white yuppie ass, or at least that is the way Fred puts it."

"What in the world..." I started to ask, but with that first unhappy revelation, the dam of Dottie's emotions overflowed and tears ran down her cheeks. "Please," she begged me, "Its a long story and we don't have much time. Anyway, I can't deal with it right now. Maybe later! Yes, later I will explain! I want to explain because I need you to understand. No, hell, that's not quite right. More than anybody, It's ME who needs to understand what is happening here!"

"Hurry up in there! Harvey and I are God damned hungry," came Peter's command from the front room. I cut my questions short as Dottie and I hastened to feed our men and save our backsides from a beating. Minutes later we were kneeling at their sides while they enjoyed a their grits and eggs. Dottie and I didn't get any. Peter said they would have something for us to eat when they were finished. 

It wasn't hard to figure out what our breakfast was to be Even as they ate, their hands were roaming over our bodies, pinching our nipples and fingering our pussies. As soon as the last of the toast disappeared, Dottie and I were on our knees working for our breakfast, bobbing our heads, sliding our lips up and down over a pair of rock hard dicks. Dottie dined on the white meat while I sucked away on twelve inches of the dark stuff. After ten minutes or so of our best cock worship we were each rewarded with gobs of creamy protein that I'm sure was a nourishing breakfast even if a bit salty.

With their pricks made soft and useless once more you might think that Dottie and I would be allowed to rest, but no, Harvey wanted a lesbian show. "Great idea," Peter agreed, "I've never seen a woman eat her step mother's pussy before. Let's have these two bitches show us some 69 action."

I could see we had no choice, and I was quick to lay down and spread my legs. Dottie didn't hesitate either as she stepped over my head and laid down her body over mine, her legs spread, her pussy in my face. Her head dropped between my legs, and her tongue probing my cunt was my signal to reciprocate in kind.

If forcing Dottie and I to have lesbian sex was meant to shame and humiliate us, it didn't work. I can't speak for Dottie, but I am suddenly too much the slut to be ashamed of eating my step daughter's cunt. To the contrary, I enjoyed immensely having Dottie's tongue deep in my slit and the taste of her pussy in my mouth was certainly not unpleasant. Indeed it was a highly erotic fantasy that I could not have enjoyed under 'normal' circumstances. 

Within minutes I began to orgasm repeatedly. Women have a personal understanding about where and how the pussy should be licked, and Dottie's tongue was too expert on my clit not to have had previous experience. God but she was good! Almost as good as a man's cock. I could not help myself from closing my knees tightly against her ears to hold her head firmly at work on my inflamed and swollen slit. 

Dottie responded to the efforts of my mouth as well. Her hips began to undulate against my face, forcing my tongue deeper and deeper into her love hole. I could hear her muffled moan from between my clasping legs, and I believe that orgasms were every bit as real as my own. Neither of us had douched since we had been fucked earlier in the morning, and along with Dottie's juices came the strong flavor of Peter's cum. I'm sure that Dottie recognized Harvey's jism in me as well. 

We weren't allowed to continue for long, however. Our men wanted to see us orgasm, of course, but not to have too good a time. After they pulled us apart, we were told to dress. We were going for a ride somewhere but we weren't told where. I stuffed myself back into that too small T-shirt and too small red shorts, while Dottie put on a bikini top and a pair of short shorts she kept at Harvey's place to use on those rare occasions when clothes were necessary there. 

As the men led us to Peter's car by our leashes, Peter announced, "Harvey and I are driving over to Cleveland to see the Browns play this afternoon. You two will wait for us at my house. I'm giving a little party this evening and the caterers will be there about four. Let them in and help them set up the bar and buffet. You can take the leashes off but, stay dressed as you are and leave the collars on. That ought to give the caterers a thrill. 

Except for helping with the party set up, you have the day to yourselves. If you want a swim, you won't need a swim suit. Go in bare butt. The caterers will enjoy that too. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. Harvey and I will be back about six and we'll be using your lovely bodies this evening so be showered, douched, and perfumed by the time we get back.

With that we were dropped off in front of Peter's house and our two studs drove off to their football game. I fixed us a couple of stiff drinks before Dottie and I stripped off our tops and settled down by the pool to get some sun. For a long time neither of us said anything, each waiting for the other to be the first to bring up the topic that weighed so heavily on our minds..., how the hell did we each get into in this fix?

Time ticked by as we lay in the warm fall sun, quietly lost in our own thoughts. Dottie waited me out. It was well after lunch before I finally gave in and asked, "Well..., you want to talk about it now?"

She began to cry a little, and there was a catch in her voice from time to time as she told me this story:

*******************

"Fred and I hadn't been doing very well for the last couple of years. It wasn't something I could put my finger on exactly, but we certainly weren't lovers anymore. He wasn't abusive or anything like that. He was, well, when he wasn't angry with me, he was just sort of indifferent. I was busy with the children and he was tied up with his business. I thought he might have a mistress on the side, but I couldn't be sure. We hadn't made love in months, and I was crawling the walls I was so horny."

"One evening I went to a neighborhood ladies card party at Margie Swenson's house. Margie is divorced and something of a free spirit. The party and the liquor loosened our hostess's tongue, and she told us that lately she had been getting "the dark meat." She said it was the best fuck she ever had. She was clearly please with her sexy find. She even bragged that her Negro paramour was coming by later that same evening to 'breed her,' as she put it. She said she could hardly wait."

"Well, I'd had way too much to drink, and I was curious to meet this 'great Moor' as Margie called him. In fairness, I suppose I was also titillated with my mental image of a fair skinned Swedish blond Margie on her back and squirming with the kinky haired head of a black stud between her knees eating her cunt. Anyway, I didn't leave when everyone else went home. I wanted to see this modern day Iago for myself. Maybe I should have gone on home. Staying was the either the greatest mistake of my life, or an epiphany. I'm just not sure which."

"Ralph, that was Margie's black boy friend, was every bit the awesome stud she had said. Short hair, clean shaven, bulging with muscles, about six foot two, 190 pounds or so, and handsome as a movie star. He wasn't even real black, only a kind of coffee-with-cream colored. The three of us sat around a while talking, and I had still more to drink. After almost an hour or so I decided that I was a third wheel and started to go. Margie insisted that I stay. She said she could see how horny I was, and that she would lend Ralph to me for a good time. She said that after Ralph had 'taken the edge off,' we could have a three way. Ralph, she assured me, was man enough to satisfy us both, and maybe a couple other women as well."

"Well, I was half drunk, and I needed to get laid in the worst way. I must have hesitated all of two seconds before I grabbed Ralph by the hand and led him off to the bedroom. He was everything Margie said he would be. He fondled my tits and cunt as he stripped my clothes off, and then when he was naked too, he knelt beside me on the bed and let me play with the longest pecker I had ever seen. Funny thing, Ralph's prick was black as crude oil, much darker that his skin generally. I have since noticed that's true of a lot of Negro men, their cocks are often blacker than they are." 

"Anyway, Ralph sucked on my nipples, and when he had them good and erect, he bit down ever so gently on those tender nubs. I went crazy. My pussy was sopping wet and I begged him to stick his cock in me. I had never begged a man to fuck me before, but then I have never been fucked like that before either. I never even knew it was possible for any woman to be fucked like that. I must have orgasmed a dozen times or more."

'I stayed until almost dawn, and for the whole night Ralph, that human fuck machine, stuck it to Margie and I over and over again, sometimes one at a time, sometimes all three of us together in a big knot of milk chocolate and white flesh. When he needed to rest, Margie and I would eat each other's cunts. I had never tried sex with another woman before, but I enjoyed having Margie's tongue in my slit, and admit that I found licking her's to be pretty sexy too. Ralph recovered quickly watching the show we put on. When he was ready, Margie and I would suck him hard so that he could service us again..., and again. " 

"I showered before I went home, and quiet as a mouse I slipped into bed with Fred while he was still sound asleep. He must have missed me sometime during the night, however, because at breakfast he asked me what time I got home. I could tell he was a little suspicious. I told him that I had too much to drink while playing cards, and I thought it was safer to sleep it off at Margie's house rather than trying to drive home drunk. I don't know if Fred believed me or not. He seemed satisfied, but there was an undertone of skepticism in his voice."

"Right then I didn't really care. I wanted more of Ralph's big cock, or at least more of one just like it, whatever the price. I just didn't know at the time the price would be so high. Anyway, beginning that next day, I was slipping back over to Margie's house every chance I got. I wasn't the only one either. Just as she had done for me, Margie let Susan Collier and Mary Kaplan have a free dose of Ralph's black tranquilizer for horny white housewives. Like me, Susan and Mary were coming back regularly for more of what Ralph had for us. 

"Four sexed up white women got to be too much even for Ralph, and he started to bring a couple of his friends along to help him satisfy the all the hot cunts in his harem of oversexed honky housewives. That's how I met Harvey. Good God, for a woman as sex starved as I was, that foot long sex tool of Harvey's was something to dream about. Pretty soon I wasn't even being discrete. For about six weeks there, Ralph, Harvey, and various other ghetto studs were servicing my pussy four or five days every week, and every time by a cock 10 inches or more long. It was heaven. For the first time in my life I was getting all the sex I needed."

"But then Fred found out. I suspect one of Margie's other friends tipped him off, or maybe I was just acting too strangely, too happy. Anyway he hired a private detective who managed to photograph Harvey and two other nigs gang banging me in every hole I've got with what totaled about a yard of black cock. Fred brought his lawyer home with him one evening and confronted me with my sins in living color. Fred said he wanted a divorce. Worse, his lawyer said that once the judge saw the pictures of me fucking three niggers, I would for sure loose custody of my children. He said I probably wouldn't even get visitation privileges. I didn't care about the divorce, but I hadn't even considered that Fred might take my kids away from me." 

"I couldn't stand the thought of that. Fortunately I knew Fred's weakness. He's the cheapest bastard that ever lived. I reminded him that a divorce would cost him a lot of money, and if it got out about my 'indiscretion', he would not only be a laughing stock, his business was sure to suffer. On that on top of all that he would have to replace me with an expensive nanny and housekeeper. 

As an alternative to a divorce, I offered to become his unpaid slave, sexual and otherwise. I would cook and wash and clean and look after the kids during the day, and at night he could use me as his personal whore. After all, I'm just as pretty, and I have just as good a body, as the pros I knew he paid from time to time to entertain his clients. " 

"I pleaded with him to let me stay and raise my kids. I promised I would do anything, even let him sell my pussy on the street, if that was what he wanted, if only he would let me be with my children. Fred never could resist a bargain. He agreed to keep me as his whore and nominal wife, and I took him as my pimp and nominal husband."

"Fred wasn't long in cashing the blank check I had given him. I had been right. He did have a mistress, and that very night he brought his bleached blond tramp home with him. To keep up appearances she hasn't moved in yet, but she comes over after the kids have gone to bed and she sleeps with my husband in my bed until dawn two or three times a week. Fred insists that I stay in the room with them while he fucks her. He makes me sleep on the floor unless I am 'invited' to help them have sex. Then I am 'privileged' to suck Fred's cock until its good and hard, and then I am 'allowed' to slide it into his slut's shaved pussy for him." 

"I can't imagine where Fred found this bitch. She's got a good body, but she's not very pretty, and she's about half dyke. Boy, does she ever like me to eat her cunt, almost as much as she likes to eat mine. Another of her favorites is to stick me from behind with a strap-on dildo while I am on my hands and knees sucking on Fred's prick."

"Fred abuses me even worse than his whore does, I guess he's still trying to get even with me for fucking black men. Anyway, he must stay up nights thinking of dirty thing for me to do. When his whore isn't around to amuse him, and sometimes even when she is, he ties my hands behind my back, and then he bends me over an arm of our couch. With my feet spread on the floor, my face in the cushions, and my rear end up in the air, he takes his belt to my ass and thighs to warm me up for a butt fucking. After he cums in my ass, I have get on my knees with my hands still tied behind me, and suck him until he is hard again. Then it's back over the couch arm for seconds on my stretched ass hole. "

"Another of his favorites is to lay his whore on her on her side with one leg up so that he can fuck her sidesaddle. Then I have to put my head between her spread legs where I can lick them both while he pumps her pussy. When they finish, I clean them, cunt and cock, with my mouth and tongue." 

"A plaything for his bed, however, is not the only way I serve my loving spouse and pimp. A week after we made our 'arrangement,' Fred brought home three executives from a company interested in buying a office building he has been trying to sell for two years. Fred's a good salesman. He knew that it would take something special to sell that turkey, and what could he offer that was more special than a piece of his wife's ass? Arranging for a reluctant customer to bang some hired whore is a routine in big time real estate deals, but a chance to fuck the shit out of the respectable wife of a the broker, now that was indeed something rare and tempting. " 

"Fred insisted that I play part to the hilt. I had to greet our guests dressed in an absurd French maid costume consisting of spike heels, frilly black stockings, a bra two sizes two small for my tits, and a scandalously short skirt with no panties. Fred is never embarrassed by anything that might make him a buck. Right off the bat he introduced me to these strangers as his wife, and even managed to casually show them our wedding picture so there could be no doubt about who I really was. Then he made me lift my skirt and show our guests my bare pussy." 

"While their eyes were bugging out of their heads, Fred fed them some wild shit about me being a nymphomaniac who had to have regular injections of cock. He said that he ordinarily kept me away from people we knew, but I happened to see our guests at his office, and ever since I had been begging him to let me fuck them. With a perfectly straight face he said that he had refused at first, but because he loved me, he had finally given in and agreed to make me his gift to them. 

"The lying bastard went on to protest how he hated himself for doing this, and apologized for putting them on the spot. He guaranteed, however, that I was a 'great piece of ass'. He even said he would consider it a personal favor if they would please fuck me so hard that I wouldn't need any more strange cock for a while.' 

"And that is how my husband officially turned me into a whore. A great actor and liar my husband. He even cried real tears while he spread all this bullshit around." 

"Our guests looked a little shocked at first, but It didn't take very long for them to take Fred up on his offer. By the time I was serving the second round of drinks they began to sample my charms with their hands. With three strangers fondling my thighs and tits, I began to get hot too, and when the boldest of them dipped his finger into my cunt, he found me dripping wet. By the time I served dinner, they had my tits out of my bra, and my skirt tucked up into my belt, front and back, so that my pussy and ass were on permanent display. During desert, at my dear husband's suggestion, I crawled under the table and sucked on one cock after another while they ate their ice cream."

"After dinner, Fred had another bright idea. While our guests were having coffee and cigars, I sat on floor with my legs spread and put on a show with a vibrator. My first fuck of the evening came shortly thereafter when one of them pulled me onto his lap, shoved his face into my tits, and buried his long hard cock in my pussy. Things went downhill from there into a gang bang with me as the bangee. I took cocks in my mouth, in my pussy, and in my ass, and once, in all three holes at the same time. I must have been a success as a prostitute because Fred's guests bought that white elephant of a building. " 




My Neighbor Ch. 4



"Pretty raw stuff, huh? I said I would do 'anything', and Fred certainly took me at my word. After that, between servicing Fred and his blond tramp, and whoring for his friends and clients, my sex life was on a big roll, but God forgive me, I was loving every bit of it. The problem was, the more cock I got the more I wanted, and even Fred and his clients weren't enough. Those white guys weren't hung anything like Ralph and Harvey. What I needed was a long black dong that would stretch my cunt."

"The very next day after those three dinner guests fucked me half to death, I slipped over here for a quickie with Harvey. It wasn't nearly enough. Addicted as I was to his big honky-woman tamer, I kept coming back for more. I couldn't help myself. Fred caught me of course, and he felt cheated. He tied me face down on the coffee table and whipped my poor ass till it was raw, but I refused to repent. Fred didn't much care who I screwed. I wasn't really his wife anymore, but I was 'his whore,' and he figured that there should be something in it for him every time I got dicked." 

"Trust Fred to find a way to make a profit from everything. A week or so after my beating Fred paid your friend Peter Carr a visit. I don't know the details but Harvey is Carr's buddy, and Carr has friends with money and influence who invest heavily in real estate. In exchange for easy access to these people, Fred "leases" me to Carr who "subleases" me to Harvey. Harvey, and sometimes Peter, use me any time my kids don't need me, and Fred doesn't have some other assignment for my hot pussy. 

Oh, yeah! I'm a well used whore these days. Fred, and his slut mistress, the gray flannel suits Fred lets use my ass, Harvey and Harvey's friends, they are all pretty rough on me, but damn, these days I'm wet and horny all the time. Without any choice about who fucks me or when, I can have all the cock I want without feeling guilty about it. Even the humiliating things I have to do for Fred turn me on, and, God, you already know what Harvey's big Arkansas black snake can do for a woman. So what if my ass belongs to Fred and that big mean black bastard who fucked you this morning. So what that I am a slut, a sex toy, a female plaything, a sex slave. I'm willing. As long as I get fucked often and well, I don't much care what they do to me. " 

"Well, I guess you don't have much doubt about that. You saw the way Harvey makes me play the humble slave girl when I suck him off. He almost always makes me do that before he will stick it to me. I guess he thinks it evens the score a little for a nigger to own a white female slave, and make her grovel at his feet. Well, I don't care about racial politics. I need that big black stud to fuck me with his foot long dick, and if I have to play the slave to get it, so be it! Anyway it turns me on to be submissive like that." 

"And that submissive streak works pretty much the same way with Fred. To be forced lay on the floor beside and watch him fuck his tramp mistress in my own bed would be just awful..., except for the way it sends me into heat. The more my bastard husband humiliates me, the more I enjoy his cock. As master and slave, we have had the best sex of our married lives. And, as far as being made to prostitute myself to his clients is concerned, well, the truth is that playing the whore is a turn on. Anyway, neither Fred nor Harvey give me any choice. They beat me whenever I resist. Why should I be defensive about something I can't do anything about?" 

***************

Dottie was quiet as she ended her story. 

"Well, that's about it, Melanie." She paused, and then added. "This morning you saw on my knees sucking a black man's cock. I know how that must have looked, and what you must have thought, but I hope you can understand and forgive me. I may be a slut and whore, but it isn't all my fault. I had a bad itch in my pussy, something that happens to a lot of women. It was my bad luck that while I was getting it scratched, things got out of hand. Otherwise I would be just another frustrated housewife cheating on a husband who is also cheating on her." 

Then came the question I dreaded. "What about you?" she asked. "You haven't been exactly faithful to my father today. How did you get into this picture?" 

She had bared her soul to me, and as a sister in pain, I could do no less. I confessed the whole thing..., about Eddie Farmer, about watching Peter and how he seduced poor Becky Angle, and how when he finally waved that big prick under my nose, I had melted like an ice cream cone on hot day. I admitted that I had that same itch in my pussy that she did, and Peter had taken advantage of it to turn me into a nympho slut. 

"We are lot alike you and I," I told her. "We both have that submissive streak that makes us an easy mark for any dominant male with a big prick. Like you, I don't believe we should be held responsible for something we can't help."

"You won't tell dad about me will you?" Dottie asked pleadingly. 

"Of course not," I replied, "but its sure to get back to him someday, somehow..., and about me too. In fact I'm scared to death that Peter will tell him just to show his authority over me and humiliate me further.

"Surely he wouldn't!" Dottie exclaimed.

"Oh but he would. It would be just like him, and he has already threatened as much. He had his cock buried to his balls in my ass when he described how he would make me suck and fuck him in front of Alvin. I have heard him threaten poor Becky several times that he would do with the same thing with her in front of her husband. Oh yeah," I added, "he gets a kick out of humbling his women, and he knows all the tricks about how to do that best."

Dottie could only shake her head in wonder, and it was right at that moment that the door bell rang. It was the caterers arriving with tonight's goodies. We spent the rest of the afternoon helping them set up the bar and buffet for the evening's party. At six thirty the first guests arrived. It was Joe Palmer and his wife. They were parishioners of church where the Revered Angle was preacher, and where she served as the organist. 

I hardly knew either of them and I had no idea what he why they had been invited. They seemed surprised to see us too, and more than a little taken back at our collars and skimpy outfits. We got them each a drink and they sat quietly sipping on it until just after seven when Peter and Harvey returned. Right behind them the door bell ran once again.

It was Becky..., and with her was the Right Reverend Robert Angle. She was dressed in shorts with a halter top. Bare legs and bare midriff, and beautifully made up, she was gorgeous, but her eyes had the terrified look of a deer caught in a hunters search light. 

"God Damn," I thought, "now the shit is gonna hit the fan for sure."

* * * * * 

To find out about that fan, VOTE and let me hear that you want another chapter. Your vote, that's the only fee for the story. I try to answer your mail and I'm always on the lookout for fresh ideas. On that line, Elizabeth (45) call home and leave your number.



My Neighbor Ch. 5



As Chapter 4 came to a close, Peter was giving a pool party. Present were Melanie and her daughter Dottie, his black friend Harvey, Becky and her husband the Reverend Robert Palmer, and Joe and Susan Palmer, parishioners of the Reverend's church. The party has just begun.

* * * * * 

The atmosphere at pool party that evening was more than a little bit strained. Only Peter and Harvey were in a jovial mood. They had enjoyed their football game almost as much as the quart of whiskey they had shared before, during, and after the action on the field. More than football and the liquor though, they were positively beside themselves over a surprise something that they obviously thought was going to be great fun. I hadn't a clue about what they were enjoying so, but I did wonder how they had managed to drive home from Cleveland as drunk and as giddy as they were. 

Everyone else, however, was really up tight. I could understand poor Becky's discomfort at visiting her sexual master's home in the company of her husband. Dottie and I were equally uneasy. To start with, we were embarrassed to be marked as a pair of whores by our slutty costumes and the dog collars around our necks. Moreover, we were afraid that whatever was in the wind, eventually we would be forced into something more than just seeming to be ten dollar hookers. Thus, ashamed of our appearance, and uncertain about what might be expected of us, we each tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

Joe and Susan Palmer were also decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine why, but the air between the couple and the Reverend Angle was thick with a tension and hostility. The Palmers and he not only didn't speak to each other, a sheet of ice separated them. The Reverend would not look either Palmer in the eye, although Joe Palmer was almost constantly staring daggers at him. All this was strange. The Palmers were very active parishioners in the Angle's church. Susan was the choir leader, Joe a Sunday school teacher, and they both had been close social friends of Robert and Rebecca. 

The food left behind by the caterers was excellent, and the liquor flowed freely, but the open anger that surrounded the Palmers eased very little, if any at all. After everyone finished eating, Peter turned on the pool patio TV and VCR. A tape was already in the machine, and it wasn't a Walt Disney movie. There in living color, naked on the big leather couch in the Church rectory, was Samantha, the eighteen year old daughter of the Palmers. Between her legs licking frantically at her young pussy was the balding head of an equally naked The Right Reverend Robert Palmer. 

So this was what Peter was hinting at the other evening while he was tormenting Rebecca about her husband and how horny he might be. 

The TV tape seemed to go on and on endlessly. We all sat and watched without comment, mesmerized by the graphic sex on the screen. It was one of those 'the emperor has no clothes' situations where no one had the guts to acknowledge what we all saw..., the Reverend's talented tongue stroking up and down her slit of a delighted teenage Samantha Palmer. The sound track wasn't as good as the picture, but it was clear enough to hear the girl frantically beg over and over for her spiritual councilor to "please..., please..., please fuck me now." 

Fuck her he did, and even when he ejaculated in that teen cunt, no one around Peter's pool still did or said anything. We all sat there immovable and mute, watching Samantha suck her lover's undersized prick to a renewed erection for a second round in their game of 'cock-in-the-hole.' Samantha was certainly a precocious little slut. Twice fucked, she orgasmed over and over, and she wasn't the least bashful in describing to her older lover all dirty erotic things she wanted done to her. 

I couldn't help but think to myself, "God honey, if you think this is good, just wait till some stud with a real prick gets a hold of your pussy." Still, small dick or not, the Reverend had an accomplished and enthusiastic wiggle to his ass, and by the time the tape ended twenty minutes or so later, Samantha was a well fucked young lady. 

While the tape was still playing, I checked out those sitting around me looking for their reaction. Becky was just sitting there glassy eyed while her preacher husband was slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands, refusing to even look at the pornographic show he and his young paramour were putting on. Over on the couch, Joe Palmer was so flushed he looked as if he was ready to explode. His wife had a firm hand on his arm as if to restrain him from rushing over to beat the erring preacher to death. 

Finally, just as the tape was ending and the Reverend was spilling his seed into Samantha's pussy for the second time, Joe Palmer could stand it no more. 

"You son of a bitch!" Joe screamed. "You psalm singing hypocritical son of a bitch. She's still in high school, barely eighteen years old, and you, you bastard, you go and stick your dirty sanctimonious dick in her. I would kill you, but that would be too easy on you. I want you to suffer you child fucking piece of dirt."

"Please, Please...," Robert Angle began as he slipped from his chair and onto his knees facing the irate father. "This will ruin me. It will ruin my family. My Bishop mustn't know, and, please, please don't go to the police. I couldn't face going to jail. I know what I did was wrong, very wrong. I have sinned against Samantha. I have sinned against my wife and children. I have sinned against God. I am human and I have committed a human sin, overcome by my lust in a moment of weakness. It won't ever happen again, I promise. I'll get professional treatment. I'll move away to another church. I'll pay you. I'll do anything you want, but please God, this must not get out. If this is made public, I'll kill myself."

The angry Joe Palmer turned his back on the pleading preacher. His only answer was a bitter, "As I give a damn."

That was when Peter spoke up. "No Reverend, you won't need to kill yourself. I have convinced Mr. Palmer here that it would be in no ones's interest for this bit of dirty linen to be washed in public, least of all that of his wife and daughter. No, Reverend we have agreed on a different kind of punishment, one more biblical..., you know, an eye for an eye, and the redemption of sin through penitence and chastisement..., all that bible stuff. You do believe in the bible don't you Reverend?" Peter asked mockingly.

Reverend Archer said only "Of course." His face was a pasty white and he was beginning to cry. 

Peter continued, "That's good, but I'm afraid for a sin so black and heinous, your penitence will require a very severe and painful chastisement, and your punishment should fit the crime. You sinned while naked. Your crime was sexual. You must do your penitence naked, and your chastisement must be sexual." 

The preachers expression was blank with lack of understanding as he waited for his fate to be explained. Peter paused for a moment to let his words sink in before he went on.

"A few minutes from now you are going to strip yourself bare, as naked as you were when you were abusing Samantha's childish trust. You will then show your contrition by humbly kneeling before Mrs. Palmer and asking her to punish you for what you have done. This will be the first test of your rehabilitation. You must ask her, beg her, to make you suffer. You must convince the Palmers how sorry you are that you screwed their daughter. You must make them believe that you are truly repentant and willing to pay for your crime. If they are not satisfied with your sincerity..., well..., then maybe the Bishop and the police SHOULD handle this mater. On the other hand, if you are sufficiently eloquent, Joe will hang you by your wrists from that gym bar over there where his wife will cane your naked body severely..., with special attention I am sure to that offending little cock of yours."

Reverend Angle looked sick. "Please, Please...," he began but Peter quickly interrupted.

"No, preacher," Peter said sternly, "if you don't want to be punished by the church and in the courts; if you don't want this sorry story in the headlines of the newspapers; then you must accept punishment from the Palmers personally. Do you understand that? Do you understand I am not negotiating your penitence, I am dictating it?"

"Yes, I understand," came the reply of a man now clearly crushed and defeated.

"Lets see, where was I when this baby fucker so rudely interrupted me," Peter asked, smirking all the while. "Oh yes, I believe the sinner in question was being chastised. Well, when Mrs. Palmer has caned you to her satisfaction, you will ask her politely but earnestly to allow you eat her pussy. You certainly enjoyed licking her daughter's cunt. At the least, you can do the same for her mother. Not exactly and eye for and eye, but under the circumstances, a pussy for a pussy will do."

Peter was enjoying himself so much he could hardly keep the gleeful sarcasm out of his voice. "Keep in mind that Susan saw how her daughter got her rocks off on your tongue. You had better perform equally well on her mother because she is looking forward to a similarly enjoyable experience. Otherwise, it will be back to the gym bar with you, where she will start over with the cane again..., and keep on starting over until you get it right."

I looked over at Susan Palmer to see what she thought about this latest condition of the demanded 'penitence.' She was bushing fiercely, but she didn't protest, and I wondered if her flush might have been much in expectation and arousal as embarrassment. I looked back at the Reverend Angle. He was no longer crying. His face was a blank stare now, as if nothing made any difference to him anymore.

Peter paused again for a moment to allow his audience a moment to dwell on the image of Susan Palmer with her legs spread having her pussy eaten, then he continued. 

"And Oh yes, as you might expect, Joe is entitled to his fun too. While you are on your knees sucking on Mrs. Palmer's cunt, your wife, Rebecca, will be sucking Joe's male weapon until it is up and loaded. As you worship at Susan's pussy, Joe will keel down behind you. Then, while Susan enjoying her orgasms on your tongue, you will reach back and spread the cheeks of your buttocks, inviting Joe to bugger your ass hole with the hard-on your wife Rebecca has just given him. When he has finished raping your bowel, and filled it with his cum, you will turn around, thank him."

I thought our distressed preacher was going to faint. Slowly he began to shake his head from side to side repeating "No, No, No...," under his breath.

"Oh but yes, yes!" Peter told him. "Remember, this is not a deal we are making here. It is an alternative, and the only one you have. You stole something that Joe and Susan Palmer loved. It is only justice that they do the same to you. The something you love of course would be Rebecca. It is now their turn to use her for their pleasure..., just as you used their daughter for yours." 

"Anyway there is more. Although I am sure Joe will enjoy having your wife's sweet lips around his dick sucking him hard to rape your ass, such a passing interlude is not nearly enough repayment. Simple fairness requires that the Joe and his wife have generous opportunities to enjoy the considerable favors of your lovely wife. Therefore, after Joe has sodomized your ass and mouth, Becky can begin to work off your debt to the Palmers by serving as Joe's whore. Unfortunately, sometimes the innocent must suffer right along with the guilty."

"Oh God No....." the Reverend Archer attempted to object.

Peter ignored the interruption. "And, do not suppose that this one evening's entertainment will pay the debt you owe to parents of the child you defiled. You have been regularly fucking the Palmer girl after junior choir practice every Tuesday night for the last six months. The schedule and term of your penitence and chastisement will be the same. Every Tuesday night for the next six months, you will present yourself naked in the church rectory in order that Joe and Susan Palmer may beat and sexually abuse you for two hours each evening." 

Peter could not even try to hide his enthusiasm for the next torment he had in mind to for the guilty preacher. "And on each such evening, your wife must be there also, as naked as yourself, and as you watch, the Palmers will use Becky for their mutual pleasure. Although only a substitute, it is unfortunate but inevitable that your wife will likely bear the brunt of the Palmer's attentions. As unfair and inequitable as this may be, it is Becky's misfortune to be a sexy and attractive woman while your head is bald, your body scrawny, and your prick small. I think you would agree, however, that in some way your suffering ought to be at least the equal of hers. After all, Reverend, you are the one who is directly doing penitence. Therefore, if the humiliation of watching your loving wife fucked in her every hole is not enough, Joe and Susan have planned various subtle artifices to raise the level of your discomfort." 

Reverend Archer was back to shaking his head in denial, but Peter ignored him, and continued with a look of some considerable satisfaction written over his face.

"Tell me Reverend, do you think you will enjoy the taste of Joe's cum when you clean it out of Becky's cunt with your tongue? Do you suppose the load you lick out of Becky will taste the same as the one Susan makes you suck from her slit after Joe has fucked her? Have you ever watched Becky eat another woman's pussy? How will your wife respond to Joe's and his cock? What do you think, Reverend? Will Joe so arouse your wife that she will she beg him to pleasure her cunt...? with his finger...? with his mouth...? with his cock?" 

Peter was making no secrete of his glee as he continued to torment poor Reverend Archer. "Preacher man, I'm sure he will give you, and her, every opportunity to find out. Interesting questions! Will Becky orgasm when Joe butt fucks her. Will it help if you lick her clit while Joe's cock is buried deep in her ass? Joe hopes so, and for your sake, I hope so too." 

Peter paused for a moment to stare at his distraught victim. "You have a decidedly sick look on your face Reverend, and you haven't even heard it all yet. For example, has Becky ever squatted over another man's cock while you helped by inserting it into your wife's pussy for her? No..., well now you will. Just imagine the view you will have as your wife's impales herself, and her pussy lips stretch around Joe's pole, taking him all the way up her twat. Or, have you ever licked the underside of a penis as it fucks in and out of Becky's accommodating slit? If not, I'm certain you will have every chance to learn the technique. And, surely you will enjoy taking Joe's cock up your own ass once again..., and again..., and then again. All that will only be the beginning, of course, but won't it be fun? Almost as much fun as screwing a high school girl I'll bet." 

"But..., but...," Reverend Angle stammered, "Rebecca is a good Christian woman. She won't do this. Only a complete slut would."

"Oh you fool! Your wife is a slut ," Peter answered. "You were so busy fucking high school pussy, you didn't notice that your lovely red headed Christian wife has filling her hole with another man's prick, one a lot bigger and more satisfying than your own I might add. Here, let me show you what a tramp your wife really is, and who owns her." 

With that, Peter stood up, opened his fly and called, "Rebecca come here."

Becky stood slowly from her chair. She said nothing I could hear, but she was shaking her head from side to side. Her mouth mimed he word, 'No.'

"Yes, Rebecca come here, NOW!!!" Peter repeated.

Although her she continued to shake her head 'no,' she never the less walked slowly to Peter, hoping for a reprieve I'm sure, yet resigned to her fate, until she stood toe to toe with him. A small enigmatic Mona Lisa smile broke slowly across her mouth as she looked up into his eyes and waited.

Peter paused as if savoring the moment. Then he ordered harshly, "On your knees, bitch!!!" 

Becky knelt before him in a semi-slow motion collapse, much like the downward plunge of an old building reduced to a pile of bricks by an expert demolition team. Her chin raised as she lowered her body, and her eyes never left Peter's.

"Drop the halter Becky. Show us your breasts." Peters voice was softer, but still commanding.

Becky reached behind her neck and untied the knot that held the straps of her halter top. The halter front fell away leaving her mature breasts nude and on display. Framed by bikini bra tan lines, large red aureoles added a splash of color to the milk white of her fair skin. She was sweating slightly, and under the glare of the pool spotlights her naked flesh glistened with a porcelain sheen. Her nipples had begun to harden. This beautiful red head on her knees, her lovely alabaster breasts bare and shining in the light, her head tossed back looking up at her lover with eyes liquid with awe and worship..., this was a picture so sexy it crossed the line into pornographic.

"Take out my cock, Becky," Peter demanded.

Rebecca's hand went to Peter's open fly and brought out a good nine inches of flaccid man meat. I heard Susan Palmer gasp when she saw its size. Becky waited, gently holding this huge penis in her hand, fearful of going further without instruction.

"Do you want to suck my cock Becky," Peter asked.

"Oh yes, please," came the reply, almost too softly to be heard.

"Beg for it Becky!" was Peter's next command. But, there was more. "Beg me for permission to suck my cock. Your husband is watching Becky. I want him to hear you. Beg me! I want him to know what a slut you are and who owns you now."

The volume of Becky's voice raised as she began, "Oh God, Peter, please let me suck you. Let me taste you. Fuck my mouth, please. Use my throat like a cunt. Stretch my lips and take your pleasure there; then cum in my mouth so that I can swallow your precious gift." 

Becky's eyes filled with tears as she begged..., but she before continuing, she turned to address her husband. "Robert I am so sorry that you must watch your wife beg to suck another man's dick, but I can't help myself. It humiliates me to be such a slut, but Peter owns me. I am his love slave. I am in bondage to his big cock. I can deny him nothing."

"Becky," Peter interrupted, "your husband doesn't think that you are tramp enough to service Joe's cock and Susan's pussy in front of him. Tell him how I fuck you. Tell him how I treat you. Tell him what I make you do. Tell him about the cocks and cunts you have already serviced with your pussy, your mouth, and your ass. Tell him how I whip your naked ass when you displease me! All of it! Tell him!" 

"He fucks me," Becky began, "Oh yes Robert, how he does fuck me!!" He lays me on my back and forces my knees back against my shoulders. He refuses to stick me with his cock until I beg him for it, then he fills me to the brim, stretching my poor pussy with his meat. Or, he sits me down on his cock makes me take all of him right to his balls. It is both heaven and hell to sit pegged on his hard pole that way, tortured by the crown of his long dick pressing against my womb. I can only sit there helpless, riding his rod, while his fingers twist and pinch my nipples." 

"Or, he makes me crawl to him on my elbows and knees. Then with my big tits dangling, rubbing on the floor, my hair hanging over my face, and my ass in he air, he splits me open and rides me from behind like a dog bitch in heat." 

"Yes Robert, he fucks my mouth too!! He sits naked in his chair and he makes me kneel or squat between his legs. Sometimes he tells me to rub my clit and jerk myself off as I suck him. Sometimes he ties hands behind my back so that I can use only my lips and tongue. Sometimes, he lays his prick on my tongue to soak in my spit before he fucks my mouth like a cunt. Always I must swallow every drop of his cum." 




My Neighbor Ch. 5



"Robert, he fucks my ass!! He lays me face down with a pillow under my hips. He insists that I reach back and hold my cheeks apart, offering him my rectum to fill with his hard-on. He lays on my bare back, reaches under me and squeezes my tits as he drives himself into my ass up to his balls. My butt is so stretched and full I can hardly stand it, and I can feel my tissues clinching and grabbing at his cock as he pumps it in and out my tight hole. I am so ashamed Robert, but can't help but orgasm when his hot man cream finally squirts inside my bowel." 

"Yes Robert, he fucks my breasts!! He sits on my chest, insisting that my hands press my boobs together until my nipples touch around his cock. Then he uses my tit flesh to jack himself off into my face and open mouth." 

"And, oh God forgive me, Robert, he prostitutes me. It is not enough that he has turned me into his slut, he has made a whore of me as well. He has friends over and gives me to them for a gang bang. I have no choice but to let them fuck and abuse me. Peter makes me take all those strange cocks in my mouth, in my pussy, and up my ass, sometimes all at the same time." 

"Melanie over there, Robert, she is no better than I..., she is Peter's slut too, and he makes me suck his cum out of her slit after he has fucked her. Or, he makes me eat her pussy while he is fucking her ass. Or, she and I must do a 69, each of us sucking the other's cunt while he watches and says nasty dirty things about us and about what we are doing. "

"And, oh yes Robert, he beats me!! If I refuse anything he demands, he hangs me from the gym bar and lashes me from head to toe with a limber switch. He will not stop until I humble myself with promises that I am his slut, his bitch, his whore." "So you see Robert, being a sex slave will be nothing new for me. Of course, I will service the Palmers in anyway that pleasures them. Why not? They couldn't possibly make me do anything Peter already hasn't done to me. It will shame me to have you watch and listen as Joe and Susan make me do dirty erotic things, but I will make me hot as well. I am such a whore now. Anyway, surely you can understand. If I don't do these things not only will Peter beat me. Worse than that, he will refuse to fuck me..., and that I could not stand."

"You see, Robert..., may God forgive me..., I must have his cock. Nothing else matters anymore. Although he has fucked me, shamed me, and abused me, he has also given me huge soul rendering orgasms, the orgasms that every woman yearns for. Peter and his big cock have made a slut of me I'm afraid, but I would not have it otherwise. I daydream all the time about the next time Peter will shove his big thing in me. Here I am, on my knees, my tits on display, his cock in my hand, ashamed that I must tell you all this, yet even now my pussy is wet and aching to have him in me. Every waking moment now, I want nothing else. If he will only fuck me with his big cock, I don't care who else gets a piece of me, the more the merrier." 

"Good, Becky, that's enough!" Peter interrupted the poor woman at his feet, obviously pleased with her performance. "I think your husband gets the idea. You may put me in your mouth for just a moment, but not too long tho. I can't be walking around with a hard on. After you have returned me to inside my fly, strip off the rest of your clothes. I'm sure that shortly Joe will be more than willing feed your hungry pussy."

Becky with loving care wrapped her lips around the head of Peter's penis, sucked for a long half minute, before giving it a final kiss and returning it to his pants, still soft but glistening with moisture from her mouth.

"You see, Reverend" Peter said as he looked past the woman at his feet toward Robert Archer. "you are not the only one who has fallen from grace. It seems that Rebecca is no more innocent of the deadly sin of lust than you are. Perhaps it is fitting after all that she joins you as a partner in penitence."

"Well, the time has come to begin." Peter's tone became harsh and biting as he commanded, "strip you baby fucking piece dirt, and beg Susan Palmer for your life."

Then turning to Susan, Peter 'suggested' to her, "An executioner is always stripped to the waist. You should do the same, or better still, take all your clothes off. You will need to anyway when the time comes for Robert to eat your cunt. You too Joe. You need to be naked and ready when it is Becky's time to suck you into a hard-on for the Reverend's ass rape."

Susan blushed a fiery red, but she dutifully began to undress and Joe did the same. What a remarkable man Peter is. I marveled at the way he could have this straight laced yuppie couple strip themselves right in front of us. I must admit, however, that I was all eyeballs, curious as I was to see what the nude Joe and Susan Palmers looked like.

It turned out that a naked Susan was pretty much what I thought she would be, a tall woman, thin and angular, without much in the way of tits. Her long legs were unexpectedly shapely, however, and a neatly trimmed dark black bush between her legs hinted at a sexual interest and experience that I hadn't anticipated. Joe was broad, all muscle, built like a bull, and hung like one as well. Becky was going to have a good time with Joe. 

By the time the Palmers finished undressing, a tearful Reverend Robert Angle had also stripped at Peter's command and was already kneeling at their feet. He knew what was expected of him and the penalty for failure. The distressed man began to beg pitifully, but eloquently, as tears ran down his face. I dare say he never gave a more heartfelt sermon. 

"Please, Please, Susan," he began. "Please beat me. I am your slave. I will serve you in every way. Beat me, torture me, cleanse me of my sin. Let my pain be your pleasure and earn your forgiveness."

"Not on your life you God damned toady," Susan commanded. "I may beat you, but I God damn well don't want to hear about forgiveness. Lock your fingers behind your head and spread your knees. Let me feel that pitiful little cock. Perhaps that will tell me if you are really sorry for what you did to Samantha." 

The preacher scrambled to assumed the posture of a prisoner, and exposed his privates to his female tormentor. Susan bent down from her chair and with one hand she reached out and gripped a penis that was just beginning to become hard. Firmly squeezing this short stem of the preacher's his manhood, she began to jack its foreskin back and forth over the head. 

"You are getting an erection preacher," Susan told him. "If you are really sorry for fucking my daughter, why is your worthless little pecker getting hard in her mother's hand?

"God forgive me," Robert Archer whimpered. "You are masturbating me. Please stop. I can't help myself! I can't stand it! If you keep it up, I'm likely to cum."

"Don't you dare shoot your scum, you miserable child molester," Susan answered, "This pitiful excuse for a cock belongs to me now and I'll play with it anytime I please, and it won't cum until I say so. Before this is over Joe and I are going to teach you some control. Maybe our lessons will help keep you out of the pants of young girls. But enough of your problems! Tell me, what ARE you good for? Why should I even bother with you? Your dick is small, and you obviously haven't the control to satisfy a grown woman. What then can you do to pleasure me and service my pussy?"

Pale as a ghost, the Reverend begged in his fear. "Ma'am, I may not have much, but what I have will serve you well. True, my pecker is small, but I know how to use it, and I eat a pussy better than almost anybody. I will lick your slit like it has never been licked before. Put me to the test! You'll see. Even while your husband is buggering my rectum, I will not forget my duty. My mouth and tongue will get you off long before he cums in my ass." 

Still pleading for his life, the Reverend continued, "I promise that your clit has never had the kind of attention I will give it. I will suck that little sensitive nub out from under its hood, and nibble on it with my lips. I will bite it gently, and then suck the pain away. I promise you many orgasms from only my tongue on your clit. If you want, of course you can play with my cock as I eat you, and of course I expect you to cum in my face. Think what fun it will be to tease me to an erection, and then deny me the relief of either your hand or your sweet pussy. Or perhaps you will want your pussy to taste my cock just long enough for your relief, but not long enough for my own, Oh but that would be so painful for me, and you would watch me as I suffered from aching blue balls unable to ease my torment with an ejaculation. All that and more, whatever pleases you, I will do for you."

"You lying piece of shit," was Susan's harsh reply. "You can bet your balls that if and when I have you fuck me, you had better not cum in me, even though I doubt you can hold back. Even this minute, with nothing by my fingers around your miserable short stick, I can feel you your pecker throbbing in my hand. You're right on the edge, ready to spit your male slime into my hand just like you did in my daughters pussy. What good are you to me? You'd shoot your wad in me for sure, probably before you got me off. Shit, Joe! I think we'd better call the cops."

"You must not call the police." Robert shrieked in his depression. "I am your slave, your willing slave. You have a right to your vengeance, I admit that. Good God, I am offering myself to be beaten, to be abused as your slave. I accept the pain. I accept the humiliation. I swear I will get you off. I swear I will not cum in you. Whatever you want."

Panic was fast overwhelming the poor preacher as Susan continued to shake her head no. "What more can I do? I'm giving you my wife for God's sake. She is beautiful, and a great piece of ass. Take her! Do as you will with her. Use her! Beat her! Abuse and humiliate her! The same with me. Becky and I will serve you both well, and you will have your vengeance. Think about my pain when you use my wife. I will know that she is your whore because of my sin, my weakness. Think how humiliating it will be for me to get on my knees and beg you Joe, 'to please fuck my wife.' And when you are done, think of my shame as I must lick her hole clean of your cum. For you Susan, I swear you won't be left an unsatisfied spectator while Joe is fucking my wife. I will attend your pussy with my finger and my tongue, or if you prefer, I will be sucking your nipples. I promise you will get off at the same time Joe does. And all the while I will be in such pain that you will both enjoy yourselves all the more. Please give me a chance. I promise I will atone for my sins."

"Well, Joe, what do you think," Susan asked. "Is that sincere, or what? Shall we start?"

"Yeah, what the shit. Let's start!

-------------------------------------------------

Reverend Archer' Penitence

In almost no time at all the Palmers had poor Robert Archer standing under the gym bar with his legs spread and held there by a short pole cuffed to an ankle at each end. The height of the gym bar had been adjusted so that although his feet were solidly on the floor, his arms were stretched over his head by a pair of handcuffs looped over the bar. It was a clever restraint, one that left the poor bastard's privates hanging exposed and defenseless at the split between his legs. Reverend Archer began to whimper as he realized how completely open and vulnerable his cock and balls were to a naked Susan Palmer who was swishing a limber whipping cane thru the air right in his face.

Archer had known he was to be cruelly whipped. Until now, however, it had not occurred to him that those tender body parts between his legs might be a target for Susan's cane. Only now did he comprehend the extreme punishment and terrible pain Samantha's vengeful mother might have in mind, but it was too late to bargain or protest. Naked and helpless, his legs spread and his arms chained over his head, he could only whimper in fearful anticipation of what was to come. 

Susan's first five blows with the cane were conventional enough. The first one landed on the back of his thighs, and the second across his ass. The next three all landed in front, below his belly button, each one coming a little closer to his exposed prick and gonads than the one before. The tortured preacher screamed in pain, and pleaded for mercy from what was plainly yet to come. 

"Please, please, Oh God, Please, don't, don't," he begged. 

"Oh don't be such a baby," Susan sneered at him. "Don't do what scum? Afraid I might hit that dirty little cock of yours? Why shouldn't I? A lick or two there will be good for your morals. Next time you won't be so eager to stick that thing in the pussy of a young girl. Indeed, with luck, and if I can hit you hard enough, maybe you won't be able to stick it in ANYBODY ever again."

With that Susan flicked his soft cock with the end of her cane. Robert winced, and trembled in terror at what might happen next.

Susan, however, was enjoying her game of cat and mouse and was in no hurry. "But, hell, it won't be any loss. You're not any use to a real woman anyway. Look at you! Without some young thing to take advantage of, you can't even get it up. How DO you find it to pee? There's hardly anything there. How can I even hit something that small." 

Susan's sarcasm deepened as she asked snidely, "Do you need a little encouragement you daughter fucking son of a bitch? How about the feel of a real honest-to-god grown woman's body?"

Susan stepped forward to press her nude body against his, and began to move rubbing her bare flesh over his. Beginning with her tits against his chest, she wiggled and squirmed, always in firm contact with he helpless victim from shoulders to thigh, until she worked her way around to his back. There she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him close, squeezing him tightly so that her small tits pressed hard against his bare back. For a long time she held him like that, slowly gyrating her body from the top down to make sure he felt her pointed nipples in his back, and her belly and pubic hair against his buttocks. Reaching down into his crotch with one hand, she gripped his short dick and began to masturbate it slowly. The preacher's member had already begun to come to life, and the stimulation of the female fingers had an immediate and dramatic effect. Even so, however, Susan continued to relentlessly jack the hardening penis in her hand. 

"Does that feel good? Want to fuck me? You'd like to cum wouldn't you?' Susan taunted her prey. "Well you'd God damned better not if you want any skin left on your ass."

Susan, however, was not finished. She had yet another level of sexual torment to add to the suffering of her already over stimulated captive. Releasing her hug but not his penis, and with her tits still pressed against him, she slid back around to his front. There she dropped to one knee and wrapped her lips around a cock already well on its way to being fully hard and erect. For long moments, she sucked hard on his member, then momentarily interrupting her caress, she looked up at him and said, "Don't you dare cum in my mouth you bastard. Cum in my mouth and I'll beat your balls until they fall off."

Anyone could see how close Reverend Archer was to a climax. Susan's threat of what would happen if he ejaculated left him in a tortured dilemma. I could see him grit his teeth in determination, but his knees were sagging under him. He was repeating a pitiful plea, hopelessly and endlessly, "Please, please...,No, no, stop, I can't hold it, please...,"

"Oh but you can. At least you'd better, " Susan said as she stood. Now that's better," Susan said as she returned to her feet, proud of the quivering hard-on that jutted from the Reverend's groin. "Bless Pat, you are a male after all aren't you? Is this the dirty little thing you stuck in my daughters pussy?" 

`There was a pause as Reverend Archer, engrossed as he was in holding back his ejaculation, struggled to find a response that would satisfy his tormentor.

Susan was in his face, nose to nose with him as she screamed, "Answer me you scum bag!"

"Yes!" was the brief and barely audible reply

"I can't hear you scum bag, and It's 'yes ma'am Miss Susan' to you," Susan yelled and punctuated her point with two quick cuts with her cane across his ass.

Robert's reply came quickly and this time quite loudly, "Yes ma'am Miss Susan! I'm so sorry for what I did to Samantha. Please forgive me Miss Susan. It will never happen again, I swear. "

"Your damn right it won't, you dirt bag," Susan screamed at him. I'm going to see to that right now." Her threat was hardly out before she brought her cane down hard on top of his erect penis. His scream of pain was that of a wounded animal, but before collapsing, a spurt of cum shot from the end of that tortured tube of male flesh and landed at least two feet away. 

"Oh God," he pleaded, "Please don't hit me there again. Anywhere else, Please! I'll do anything you say, anything, just don't hit my penis again."

"Oh shut up, you sissy," Susan replied, "I can't hit your pecker anymore. That pitiful excuse for a cock has run off to hide inside your belly. There's nothing left down there but a little soft knob and your testicles. See you've learned something already. You wouldn't be in this fix if you had kept the damn thing soft and up your belly in the first place. Anyway, God damn you! I'll hit you anywhere I want, and if your little prick is going to run away like that, I'll just have to whip some other tender spot. There's always your balls. Besides, you came without my permission. Your balls ought to pay for having no more control than that. 

"Oh God No, Susan," Robert begged his tormentor. "Please, punish me. I deserve it, but on my ass, my back, my legs. Don't hit my poor balls. Not my poor cock again either. I'll die of pain if you hit me there."

"Oh, all right, you fucking baby. If not your balls, let's see how well the rest of your worthless body takes a little pain." 

With that Susan laid into the poor preacher with a will, lashing him severely up and down his back and ass, his belly, and front and back of his thighs. Each strike left an angry red welt to mark the spot of the poor man's agony. When she was finally done, Robert Angle's legs had given way and his weight was hanging almost entirely on his arms. He was weeping hysterically. 

"Come on now, Reverend," Susan told him, "You're not all that hurt. Let momma kiss it and make it well before I let you eat my cunt." With that she dropped to her knees and began to suck him once more. Amazingly enough, that poor abused pecker began to respond, and within only minutes, it was swollen and hard once more.

"All right scum bag," Susan announced. "Joe is going to take you down now. It's time for you to eat me, but let me warn you, if you don't keep that hard-on, I'm going to think you don't like the way I taste. On the other hand, if you cum it must be because you are thinking dirty thoughts about fucking me, or maybe even about fucking Samantha again. Go soft, or cum, either way I am going to take my cane to that miserable little weenie of yours again. Do you understand?" Susan punctuated her question with a vicious swipe of her cane across the back of Archer's thighs.

The poor man screamed, and then quickly agreed, "yes ma'am, I understand. I do; I'll stay hard; I won't cum. I swear!"

With that Joe released the handcuffs that stretched the preacher to the gym bar and removed the spreader bar from his ankles. Susan took a seat in a lounge chair and was waiting with her legs spread as her tormented captive crawled across the pool deck to perform his next penitence. 

I'll say this for the Reverend. He was a first class pussy eater. Within minutes he had Susan going off like a string of firecrackers. Every minute or two he would have to come up for air and I could see his face was soaked with Susan's cunt juice. Whipping her penitent captive obviously had Susan on a sexual high, and apparently she was not alone because Reverend Archer was not only keeping his hard-on, I could see his prick jerking as he struggled to hold back his own climax. 




My Neighbor Ch. 5



As Susan Palmer orgasmed over and over on Robert Archer's talented tongue, a now totally nude Becky Archer was on her knees sucking on the long penis of Joe Palmer. Peter could see that even though Susan was thoroughly enjoying having her pussy licked, something had to be done before Joe lost his wad in Becky's mouth. With apologies to Susan he intervened, and announced it was time for Joe to rape the Reverend's ass.

The cunt lapping preacher remained on his knees, helpless before the assault he knew was coming. His legs were folded under him, His face was buried in Susan's crotch and his tongue was probing deep into her slit. Joe knelt behind him and aimed his seven inch erection directly at his poor victim's ass hole. On Joe's command, the Reverend Archer raised his buttocks, and reached back to spread the cheeks of his ass, inviting the sodomy he knew was inevitable. Joe pressed the head of his rampant cock against the preacher's butt hole. Without any lubrication other than the wet from Becky's mouth, Joe rammed himself all the way to his balls in two powerful thrusts. Robert Archer could not help from pulling his mouth away from Susan's cunt long enough to give voice to an agonized scream, but to his credit, it was merely a momentary lapse. Almost instantly his mouth was again dutifully pressed against Susan's cunt.

While one end of the Right Reverend Archer served as hot sleeve for Joe's pumping cock, his other end was feasting on the Susan's spasming pussy. In her excitement Susan seemed half out of her mind screaming and cursing at her love slave, demanding more of his talented tongue. Meanwhile, the grimace on Joe's face confirmed that after Becky's enthusiastic blow job, he wasn't going to last long in the preachers tight rectum. In only minutes, a long sigh of pleasure and relief announced that Joe had blown his wad into the bowel that was squeezing his prick. 

Simultaneous with Joe's ejaculation, the largest climax yet washed over his wife who closed down on the poor preacher's head with both thighs locking him helplessly between her cunt and her husband's rampaging dick. The Palmer's weren't the only ones to reach a climax either. As Joe gave his final forward thrust, and his wife screamed out her pleasure, Robert Archers cock jerked twice and spat a stream of his seed out onto the pool deck.

For long moments all three of them remained frozen in place. Susan was the first to move. Relaxing her thighs from the Reverend's ears she pushed him away. 

Susan pointed to the puddle of semen beneath her victim. "You came didn't you, you worthless piece of shit. I'm sure I remember telling you not to do that. You were fantasizing about fucking me weren't you. Well just for thinking of such a thing, let me see you lick up your slime." 

It was a crestfallen and crushed Reverend Archer who turned on his knees and dropped his head and shoulders and began to lick his own discharge off the pool deck. With his tail in the air like that, I could see Joe's jism dripping from the preacher's ass hole. As he finished, Susan lashed him with her cane across his exposed ass.

"All right you teen fucking bastard, let's see you suck the cock of Samantha's father. He's going to fuck your wife now, and his cock needs to be clean and hard."

Susan's demand clearly took her sex slave by surprise. For a few seconds, the look on his face was blank as if he couldn't quite comprehend the idea of sucking another man's penis, especially one that had just been up his ass. That, however, was before Susan hit him twice more with her cane. Agony replaced the blank look on his face, then with a grimace of resignation, he turned on his knees and took Joe Palmer's dirty flaccid prick into his mouth. 

As the poor defeated Reverend worked obediently at his demeaning task, Peter handed Susan a huge dildo she promptly put to use probing the preacher's still distended ass hole. Incredibly the Reverend Archer's abused cock was again becoming hard as it dangled under him, bobbing up and down with each thrust of the dildo into his ass. The more Susan stabbed at his painful tormented rear hole, the harder his prick became. The brilliant glare of a flashbulb came from behind me. Peter was documenting the pitiful man's humiliation with pictures. Archer was really caught now. Whatever the Palmers did to him, he and Becky were in Peter's clutches forever..., just like I am I thought.

It was right then when Harvey, my big Negro master for the night, called me to him. Eagerly he stripped me of my shorts and T-shirt before pushing me to my knees and demanding that I suck his big ugly black cock. I had hardly begun his blow job before he was rock hard in my mouth. Naked I knelt at his feet as his hands roamed my body inspecting my hardening nipples and wet pussy. Satisfied that I was indeed ready to be fucked, he fed his fingers into my mouth to clean them of my cunt juice. Picking me up like a rag doll he seated me on his lap, impaling me on the male peg that awaited me there. As that big black cock pried open my defenseless cunt, his tongue rammed its way past my lips and into my mouth. 

No woman could be completely prepared for so abrupt a first thrust by such a monster of a penis. Even though I was aching for a cock of my own after watching the Palmers abuse Becky and her husband...; even though my juices had been flowing in a flood as I sucked on Harvey's cock...; even though my breasts pressing against Harvey's chest felt sooo gooood...; Harvey's cock was almost too much for me. Never the less, I settled down on it, taking all of it inside me. My hurt faded, quickly replaced with the intense and satisfying pleasure of a string of orgasms. 

What can I tell you? When a masterful male wants his woman's cunt around his prick, foreplay is wasted on the bitch. Harvey's way is how every woman should be taken and used by her man. What we females need is his demanding tongue pressing against our own; his chest hair rubbing across our nipples; his massive thighs prying our legs apart; and above all, his big prick filling our cunts, hammering at our very core. Unless you have been there, you can't imagine how glorious it is to be a helpless female impaled without mercy this way on the penis of a demanding and masterful male. 

As I surrendered to my ebony master, my imagination was running wild. A sudden but very real fantasy washed across my mind. In it I was once a princess in Gaul, but now a prisoner of Rome, A princess no more, I am now owned by Caeser and a concubine in his harem. Now I am only one of the many female slaves forced to pleasure the penis of whatever man Caeser might be give us to. 

And so it is this night. This black man buried in my cunt is not Peter's friend Harvey. No, he is a giant African moor who is Caesar's guest in Rome. I am Caesar's gift to him for the night. I am his to be used and abused in any way he might desire. I will be publicly beaten if I fail to please him. I service his cock without fear, however, certain from the way his black meat throbs inside my cunt that he is well satisfied. Still, much is expected of a harem whore, and I work hard to pleasure him. With vigor, I pump myself up and down on his wonderfully long member pressing its head against the entrance to my womb on each down stroke. It doesn't take long for my silky smooth pussy walls to finish Caesar's African guest. All too soon I feel his shudder, I hear his groan, and his warm cum fills my insides runs down my thigh. 

Even as well fucked as I am, I am still a little disappointed that I was not able to delay Harvey's climax. True, I had enjoyed a string of orgasms as well as a delightful fantasy while riding that giant slab of dark meat, but I wanted still more. I was just about to beg my black lover to fuck me again when I looked around me. 

The scene that greeted me was worth my horny disappointment. There, just an arms length away, Joe Palmer was on top of a squirming Becky Archer. On her back with her knees hooked over Joe's shoulders, Becky was whimpering with delight as Joe pounded her swollen pussy with his big dick. Behind them Susan Palmer was sitting on the face of Robert archer facing his feet as she enjoyed the preacher's talented tongue stabbing in and out of her pussy. Every so often she would bend down to jack the small hard-on that bobbed enticingly between her cock slave's spread legs. Other times she would go all the way down on him, taking him into her mouth, but always with the warning that he must not cum in her mouth.

Farther away Peter lay on his back with Dottie kneeling and bent double between his knees, her head in his crotch, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked his dick with all her might. How I did envy her. Harvey was a good lover, but Peter's cock was still my favorite, and my mouth watered at the sight of that great penis favoring some other slut's mouth, even if she was my step daughter.

Harvey grabbed me by my hair and drug me scrambling on all fours across the pool deck to where Dottie was blowing Peter. "Get your tongue in that pussy, Bitch," was Harvey's command to me.

I wasn't particularly keen on sucking my step daughter, but I didn't have much choice and I knew better than to argue with this giant black man. I carefully parted her pussy lips with my fingers, and then pressing my nose against the crack of her ass I began to tongue her sopping wet love hole. Her response was immediate. She pressed her hips backward hard against my face and I felt the tissues of her cunt quiver with her orgasm.

Harvey was behind me now probing at my own cunt with the head of his prick. I was still stretched and oozing cum from my most recent sexing so I knew that this insertion would be easy and pleasureful. Damn him tho. No matter how I wiggled my ass, Harvey refused to give my cunt more than a taste of what I wanted from him. The black bastard was teasing me, tormenting me, and he was doing it on purpose. God damn him! How could he do this to me when I am so hot and horny, on my knees with my tongue in my step daughter's pussy? Oh God, I did so need Harvey to dog fuck me. Bitch slut that I am, I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled back from Dotties' cunt and screamed at the big black man playing with my ass.

"Fuck me you nigger son of a bitch. Stick me with that big black cock. Fill me! You bastard, give it to me, damn you." 

The hard spank across my bare ass was an ominous warning. The fog of sex cleared long enough for me to realize what I had said. The 'N' word! No white woman has a right to use it in front of a black man, and certainly not a white slut in the service of a black master. I had been fortunate to get by with only a stinging ass.

"Oh, please, please, Harvey, I'm so sorry I said that. I swear I didn't mean it. I mean..., oh, I did mean I need your cock..., I meant I want you to fuck me. I wouldn't have called you names, but you were teasing me. A girl can't take being punished that way when she's in heat. Please, I'm begging you, don't tease me any more. Take my ass. Dog fuck me like the bitch I am. Fill my cunt. Have mercy and forgive your bitch for talking like that and calling you names. I'm just a horny white slut that needs your long black dong in her cunt! Stick that thing in me! Punish my poor pussy with it!"

Harvey said nothing, but I felt him stab me with his prick. My pussy walls split open taking that great hard-on all the way inside me. Thank God! I happily returned to licking Dotties' cunt as Harvey probed my womb with his long male tool. All four of us managed to climax within a minute or two of each other, and the four of us finished in a heap watching the Palmers take their revenge on the Archers. 

Becky seemed to be enjoying her role well enough, but the poor Reverend was hard used as he struggled to please a demanding Susan Palmer without cumming himself. Finally his determination failed him. Once more he had to lick his forbidden seed up from the pool deck, and once more Joe hung him from gym bar where Susan again caned his miserable body until he screamed for mercy.

Susan was still whaling on the poor devil when Harvey reattached my leash and led me still naked out the front gate and into my own house and bedroom. In my husband's bed, this night I would service the ugly black cock of a man I had never before even met before this morning. I am terribly ashamed of the way I allowed, even begged, this Negro stud to fuck me in my husband's bed, but when it comes to a big cock, as Peter says, I'm such a slut. I did so enjoy having that big hard ebony tube hammering at my hot and swollen pussy.

* * * * *

Next time the conclusion of Melanie's story. Her husband returns with his Senator friend and Melanie's life as a submissive takes still another turn. The stories are free. All that we ask is that you vote, and if so inclined drop us a line and tell us how you liked (or didn't like) the story. Remember you can't vote and submit feedback all at the same time. Vote and then use the back arrow of your browser to return to send feedback.



My Neighbor Ch. 6



Harvey and I spent the night together in my husband's bed. Like the primordial female slut I am, I freely offered him my body servicing his black penis with ardor and passion. He fucked me three times before dawn broke. Twice he rolled me onto my back, spread my thighs, and slid his foot long ebony cock into my cunt. During each sexing I captured him between my legs and locked my ankles over his hips, squeezing him, drawing him as deep inside me as any man has ever reached. The third time he took me on my knees with my shoulders on the bed as I reached back with both arms spreading my buttocks, making it easier for him fuck my ass. God, but it was all sooo good, even though I was so sore the next morning I could hardly get out of bed. 

My husband Alvin's return flight was due to land in the early afternoon. I had things to do to be ready for him and I was terribly nervous that Harvey wouldn't leave in time. For no reason other than to torment me he dallied. First he insisted that we shower together, and after I had scrubbed his back and soaped his cock and balls, he pushed me to my knees and made me give him a blow job. Even after he finally shot off in my mouth, and I had swallowed his cum, he wouldn't leave until I made him breakfast. Finally I was able to send him off over to his buddy Pete's house next door.

I rushed off to spend an hour or so in the hot tub and on the message table at the spa Alvin and I belong to, and then another couple of hours at the beauty parlor. By the time Alvin arrived home right after lunch I had managed to erase most of the ravages of being fucked half to death while my husband was away. That was a good thing because Alvin had brought with him an important house guest, Senator Causeway, who was sponsoring Alvin's research grant in Washington. 

It seems that the Senator and Peter Carr had known each other in college. I gathered that they had been more acquaintances than close friends, but when Alvin happened to mention that Peter was our neighbor, Senator Causeway seized upon this unexpected coincidence as an opportunity to talk over old times with his former classmate. All that was fine and good for the Senator, but it made me nervous as hell. 

How could I be so unlucky as to have a guest who knew the man who has made me his willing cunt slave? What might he tell the Senator about me? More important, what stories would get back to Alvin? How would Alvin react if he finds out that Peter has been fucking me? Life is full of bad breaks, and more than my share seem to have come my way. There was nothing I could do but hold my breath, hope, and wait and see.

The Senator seemed nice enough and I bucked up and started to think maybe things would work out O.K.. My worst time came the day after the Senator's arrival when he and my husband spent a couple of hours having cocktails with Peter by his pool. I watched and tried to listen to their conversation from my sewing room window. I couldn't catch everything that was said but I didn't hear my name mentioned, and equally comforting, Peter didn't call me over to 'entertain.' 

What if he had? What would I have done? I would have gone of course, but then what would Peter have made me do? I had watched as he put Becky thru a degrading performance in front of her husband, delighting in her shame and humiliation. I was terrified he would do that again with me as the star, but nothing like that happened. So far so good, even though I was pretty sure the men had talked to one another on other occasions when I was unable to eavesdrop!

Things started to turn sticky the very next evening, however. Alvin and I were dressing to go out for dinner with the Senator. Alvin was acting strangely, inexplicably making unusual demands that were totally out of character. In all our years together, he had never before suggested, complained, or even commented about how I might be dressed for a night out. Yet tonight, for some reason I didn't understand at the time, he was suddenly dictating to me what I would wear to our dinner with Senator Causeway. 

To begin with he insisted that I chose a sexy black silk dress with an oriental flavor that I thought was far too revealing and slinky for the occasion. The dress fit me like a tight sleeve, and it featured a bare back, a low cut bosom, and a slit up the left leg all the way to the top of my hip. Above the neckline were two thin straps over my shoulders that crossed as they dropped down the otherwise open back and attached to the lower part of the dress that rode rather too low down on my hips, My upper chest, back, shoulders and arms were of course all quite bare, or more accurately said, exposed. 

Alvin next told me, no decreed is a better word, that I must not wear a bra. Under that tight skimpy dress, the absence of a brassiere to support my ample breasts was going to be embarrassingly obvious. I started to ask "...why in the world...?" 

Alvin's response was totally unlike him. He was actually leering when he told me that the Senator was a "tit man" who would enjoy seeing my breasts bob and jiggle under my dress the way they do when I don't wear a bra. If that was so, then the Senator was in for a treat. In the tight black slinky outfit Alvin had selected for me, every sway of my breasts would be very noticeable, and my nipples plainly outlined against the thin silk would be no less so. 

When I checked myself in the mirror, my worst fears were confirmed. I must admit the effect was very sexy, but I was embarrassed by my appearance. What was going on? My strait laced and conservative husband apparently wanted me to accompany he and his guest to a posh public restaurant looking exactly like an expensive hooker. Why? I was beginning to become decidedly uneasy. What WAS this was all about? 

Every bit as peculiar as Alvin's decree that I could not wear a bra, however, was the way he ordered me to put my panty hose away and wear a pair of nylons and a garter belt instead. Like most women, panty hose make me feel safe and secure. I began to protest strongly, but he snatched from out of my hand the new pair I had just taken from the box and threw them against the wall at the back of our closet.

"Don't argue with me Melanie, God Damn it," he swore at me, scowling as he did so, "and wear your panties on top of the garter belt, not under it. Don't argue about it either. One more word out of you and you will go without any panties at all."

Well, I didn't want that, so I didn't say anything more. I draped a small white jacket over my shoulders that covered me up a little, and restored a bit of my modesty and confidence. The three of us took a cab to the restaurant, a swanky upscale bistro with a reputation for excellent French cuisine and well to do patrons. When we arrived, however, Alvin would not allow me to wear my jacket inside. He insisted that he should carry my security blanket draped over his arm. Without any cover at all for my modesty, that tight sexy black dress certainly received its share of attention as my husband paraded me across the room to a circular booth in the far corner. I was mortified. I slid into the seat between my two male escorts, the waiter gave us each a menu. I grabbed frantically for mine and held it up trying to screen my face and bosom from the from the stares of the other diners and staff. Our waiter was no help to my distress and shattered ego. He was so intent on staring down the skimpy top of my dress at my breasts that he could hardly take Alvin's order for two bottles of wine. I wondered if he could see a nipple. By the look on his face I suspected so.

I was still hiding behind my menu as if studying my dinner choice when the waiter returned and began the ritual of opening the bottles and pouring the wine. It was right at that moment that Senator Causeway's hand reached thru the slit of my dress and began to stroke my stocking covered knee. I was stunned, unable to believe what this man, supposedly respectable member of the US Congress, was feeling me up under the table with my husband seated right beside us. At the time, however, the waiter was filling my glass with wine, and there wasn't much I could do about it without an unfortunate scene.

By the time the waiter had finished pouring and had left us, the hand under by dress had moved on to stroking the inside of my thigh. "Please, Senator, NO! What are you doing?" I pleaded with him whispering in the hope Alvin would not hear.

"Oh come now Melanie!" the Senator answered quite loudly, as if Alvin wasn't even there. As he spoke he leaned toward me, leering in my face like a bad actor playing the villain's part in second rate production of a bad play. "Quit playing the chaste and outraged wife. Your husband and I know better. Your neighbor has told us all about what a little slut you are. You are the same blond tramp from next door who sucks the cock of my old friend from college aren't you Melanie?"

"Yes, but...," I started to answer as my heart sank, "can't we talk about this later. I can explain. We mustn't act this way right here in pubic. What if someone recognizes you Senator? Alvin, Please tell him...." I could see in his face that my husband was competently aware where the Senator had his hand, and it was clear that I could expect no help from Alvin. 

"It's no use Melanie," Alvin told me, "Senator Causeway and I know all about how Peter has turned you into his own personal little whore. He claims to own you now. Do you know that? Do you know he has told me that you are his slut, his cunt slave, his property? Is all that so Melanie? It is, isn't it! You can't deny it can you? No? I didn't think so. The funny part is that I don't really mind at all. Does that surprise you? Oh, I was upset me a little at first, but then I was able to focus on where you would best fit in my life." 

"We have a housekeeper and a cook who take care of the basic domestic chores. Your services there are minimal. You have already given me a second child, and I do not wish to have another. Whatever your duties as Mr. Car's slut, I have no doubt you will always be a good and loving mother to our daughter. Beyond mothering our daughter then, what do you do that I need done. Put another way, why should I keep you as my wife? 

That answer is fairly apparent. For sex of course! What else? But, for what kind of sex? Loving tender husband and wife sex? No, I've already experienced that from both my wives. I am ready now to move on to something different, something my small penis has never allowed me to have before. Now I want a concubine, a love slave, an indentured female who must and will submit to my every selfish sexual desire, no matter how cruel, perverted, or promiscuous." 

"Peter Carr has done me a great favor by turning you into just that woman Melanie. I am not a proud man. To have the submissive slut I want I am perfectly willing to take, how do you say it, 'sloppy seconds.' Carr may own you, but I am your husband still. I not only intend to remain so, I mean to fully exercise my marital right to the sexual use of you body..., in any way I please." 

"For a long time now I have enjoyed kinky fantasies in which my sweet pretty blond wife was always the star performer. In those erotic dreams could see my Melanie on back, her sexy legs spread wide, with a strange man's cock buried in her cunt, begging to be fucked harder. It seems now that dream will become a reality. I will watch you pinned to the bed by some unknown giant cock, quivering with orgasm. Once your lover has filled you with his cum, I will still be watching as you clean his weapon with your mouth and tongue, and ready him for the second act of my entertainment. When he is once again hard my darling, it will be my pleasure to see you kneel before him with your ass in the air, spreading your buttocks apart with your own hands as you plead frantically for him to fuck you in the ass." 

"You have always dreamed of having a demanding stud with a big cock to service your ass and pussy that way, haven't you Melanie? Well, all right. That gets my vote too. I want you have as many big cocks as you can handle..., one..., or two..., or three." Why stop at three? Why not a whole room full of studs to gang bang your every hole with enough left over to have one for each of your hands. Perhaps with a little luck, I'll even have my chance to see that too." 

"Beyond watching while strange men abuse you Melanie, for the first time in our marriage I want to fuck you selfishly with neither concern for your pleasure, nor guilt about my undersized penis. That is now not only possible, there are other advantages to this situation as well. As my wife, I am entitled to my share of your pussy, but as Peter's property and whore, he is solely responsible for your performance and sexual submission. Anytime you fail to service me properly, misbehave, or disobey me, I can simply turn the problem over to Peter. 

He has assured me that he will not only see to it that you are disciplined and corrected, I can even watch while he does it. Again, there is something I have always wanted to see...., my wife hanging naked by her wrists and whipped..., beaten across her thighs, her belly, her ass, and her tits..., screaming in pain when a thong of the whip catches her in the tender spot between her legs." 

"So you see, Melanie, you are my slave as much as you are Peter's, and for tonight and hereafter, Senator Causeway has my permission to feel your body as he pleases. Go ahead and resist the him, Melanie. It will be special treat for the Senator and I in the morning when along with our breakfast we will watch while Peter punishes your misbehavior. Go ahead Melanie. Make a scene. I am so looking forward to the first time I can see you whipped."

What could I say? I was doomed! I could not refuse the hand that was my leg. I could not deny these men anything they demanded of me. Should I even try to do so, I knew that Peter would beat me, and before he was through I would be on my knees at their feet, promising to do whatever they wanted of me. No, I was their female plaything. That was a fact I must accept. Already Senator Causeway's fingers had reached the crotch of my panties.

"How does she feel Senator?" Alvin asked.

"Smooth and soft! Very feminine. Absolutely enchanting! Your little slut wife is going to be a treasure for me. My dick gets hard just thinking about having her in my bed . My visits with you and your lovely wife are going to mean more to me than I ever imagined. Perhaps we ought to extend the size and time of your research grant in order that she will be available to service my cock for longer than we had originally planned."

So that's it I thought..., Alvin is buying his precious federal grant money with my pussy. I gritted my teeth and tried hard not react as the Senator's finger probed and poked its way past the elastic at the crotch of my panties. He could get inside all right, but once there the tight nylon drastically constricted the room he needed to finger fuck me.

"Damn," the Senator complained, "her God damn her panties are in the way. I was afraid they would be when you told me she was wearing them."

Alvin, however, knew how to solve the Senator's problem. "Melanie, go to the ladies room and take off your panties. Bring them back here and put them on the table where the waiter can't help but see them. And, another thing! As you sit back down between us, hitch the back of your dress up to your waist so that your bare ass is against the seat."

"No, Alvin PLEASE...." I started to protest, but he cut me short.

"NOW, Melanie, Right this minute, GO..., or would you rather have Peter work your little slut ass out on the pool deck gym bar in the morning?"

There was no choice. My husband had decided to treat me like the common slut I guess Peter has made of me. The Senator stood and moved aside in order that I could slide out from behind the table. As I started to leave, Alvin refused to let me take my purse, although I couldn't imagine why. Embarrassed, I kept my gaze on the floor as I walked toward the Ladies' Room. I was certain that the eyes of every restaurant patron were frozen on me. What but my body under that slinky trashy dress could have caused the sudden hush in the room, and then the whispering murmur that followed? 

Once in the bathroom, I hid in a toilet stall, and stripped my panties down my legs. It was strange, but sexy somehow, to feel my dress against my pubic hair, and rubbing directly on the bare skin of my belly. My pussy was becoming moist at just the idea that I was now all but naked under my dress. It came to me then why Alvin wouldn't let me bring my purse with me. I had no way to conceal my panties as I brought them back to the table. I must carry them in my hand for all to see! 

I was blushing beet red as I started back to my table. I had wadded my panties into as small a ball as possible, but the pink nylon was bulging from between every finger of my small hand. Even holding the hand at my side as far out of sight as possible didn't help much. I could see heads shifting to have a better look at what I was carrying, then coming together to exchange whispers. It was an awful experience, yet my pussy was becoming wetter with every step I took.

It seemed an eternity to cross that room. When I finally reached our table, I dropped my panties down on top of it the way Alvin had instructed. A woman at the table nearest us gave an audible gasp. The Senator stood, inviting me to slide in between he and my husband. I remembered what Alvin had told me about the way I was to sit back down. How could I forget. All the way across the room I had been planning the best way to do it. Somehow I had to heist the back of my dress and hold it up and away from my legs and buttocks as I slid on my bare bottom across the slick leather seat .

Actually, sitting down that way turned out to be easier than I thought. Without being too obvious I managed to take my place in the middle of the booth in a rustle of black silk. The chill of the seat directly against the naked cheeks of my ass did snatch my breath away for a moment, however. The Senator quickly slid in beside me, eager to return his hand to between my thighs now that my pussy was stripped of its only defense. He did not disappoint me.

Alvin asked him, "Better now Senator?'

"Oh yes, but it would be better yet if the little bitch would relax and spread her legs a little."

"That can be arranged," Alvin answered, as he whispered sweetly in my ear, "Please my darling wife, bring the front of your skirt up to your waist. Then you will be able to spread your legs nice and wide like a good little slut. Do it! The Senator wants to finger your pussy."

I did as I was told. What else could I do. Carefully, trying not to draw attention to myself, I reached under the table cloth, and gathered handfuls of my skirt. Slowly, I raised the smooth silk up my legs until it was all above my lap. The entire skirt to my dress, both front and back, was now bunched up on the seat around me, and I was naked and exposed under the table except for my stockings and garter belt. I used my napkin and the edges of the table cloth as best I could to hide all that extra black silk at my waist. Resigned to what I knew would happen next, I allowed my knees to flop apart. The Senator was predictable. Free and unimpeded now, his hands began to roam over my thighs and into my crotch.

It was at that moment that our waiter came back to take our order. His eyes became big as saucers when he saw my panties laying on top of his table, and he looked at me sharply, questioningly. The Senator continued to run his fingers up and down my slit, teasing me, making me guess what he was likely to do next. Just as the waiter asked, "...and what will the madam have as an appetizer..." the Senator hooked his social finger into my slit. At the same time the butt of his hand pressed down hard against my clitoris. My eyes must have become as big as those of the waiter. In my shock I clinched my buttocks and bounced just enough to be noticeable. The rebound was even more noticeable as the clinch passed. Something that sounded like a big hiccup escaped involuntarily from my throat. 




My Neighbor Ch. 6



Alvin, however, remained as cool as a cucumber and placed our order with the waiter as if my sudden jerk and outburst had never occurred. "We will have shrimp cocktails all around, with blue cheese dressing on our salads, and filet mignon for everyone, rare." 

The waiter knew better. Something strange was going on here but he played along. "Very good Sir. It will be a few minutes. May I bring you more wine?"

"Please, more of the same will be fine," Alvin told him, and the waiter was on his way without looking back, although I was certain he wanted to take a peek in the very worst way. I was trying with all my might to appear normal and unconcerned despite the teasing torment under the table. That wasn't at all easy as the Senator continued to finger fuck me. My ovaries were all aquiver under he relentless assault of the Senator's finger. It was a torment to be toyed with like that while desperately suppressing all apparent reaction. Alvin cool and collected remained absolutely nonchalant as he waited patiently until the waiter was well out of ear shot. 

Then he whispered hoarsely, "Melanie Dear, the Senator and I are going to extend our legs straight out under he table and slide them toward you until our legs are side by side with yours. As you feel us press against you, one at a time lift each of your legs, and hook them over the top of ours. We will then bring our knees up and return to a sitting position with your legs caught across the top of our thighs and knees. You are to remain that way for the remainder of your meal that we might control the spread of your thighs to whatever angle gives us the easiest access to your pussy. 

Carefully I did as instructed. Once each of my legs was engaged over the top of one of theirs, the two men raised their knees and resumed a relatively normal seat at the table. Since my thighs were on top of theirs, however, my knees were raised to waist level. I was not only obscenely spread, but with my legs up, I was tilted backwards onto my tailbone leaving my pussy even more exposed and vulnerable than before. All in all it was a devilish position that left my naked sex completely at the mercy of Alvin and his big shot friend. 

My escorts wasted no time taking advantage of my spread thighs and defenseless cunt. On the inside of each thigh a hand stroked the silky smooth of my stocking. Taking turns, first one and then the other man would play with my pussy, finger fuck me, and/or pinch my clit. I was leaking pussy juice all over the seat under me as I fought for enough control to eat my shrimp and salad as if nothing was happening to me under the table. From time to time one or the other of my escorts would feed a hors d'oeuvre into my mouth. That was the signal for me to clean with my lips and tongue the cunt soiled finger that fed me.

Then in the middle of the soup course I could handle my distress no longer. My orgasm came just as I was bringing the spoon to my lips, and in my spasm I dropped it full of soup onto the table, from were it then bounced away onto the floor. Our waiter saw it drop and came rushing over to mop up the spilled soup and retrieve the spoon. As he dived under the table cloth for the spoon, I knew the jig was up. I was humiliated that he would see my naked sex and know what was going on under the table. Yet, the astonished look on his face, and his stammering confusion, almost made my shame worth it. 

"ER..., Ah..., ER..., yes..., madam. I'll bring you another spoon immediately."

Sure enough, two minutes later he came flying back from the kitchen with a complete new place setting of silverware. Behind him, however, was an veritable army of fellow waiters and busboys who all seemed to have some urgent business in the vicinity of our table. It was all so obvious that some of the other patrons began to stare our way trying to figure out what the excitement was all about. I was humiliated to be sitting in the middle of all the hubbub with my legs up and spread, offering my naked pussy under the table. My embarrassment, however, didn't stop me from having a second orgasm as the Senator rubbed my erect clit between his thumb and forefinger. 

Our meal arrived shortly after the episode with my soup spoon. Our waiter was not going to miss any chance for a second look at that lady having her sex played with under the table. The arrival of our filet mignon did not, however, reduce in the slightest the attention my companions were giving to my cunt. I watched as the Senator carefully carved a thin but generous slice of his filet and then rolled it into a tube.

"Tell me little slut," the Senator asked, "how hot are you? Is your pussy ready to take my meat?"

"Oh God yes," I whispered, "I am so horny, so ready, God how I need it."

"Well then, here's some of my meat for you."

His fingers at my cunt were shoving something soft and warm between my pussy lips. At first I couldn't tell exactly what it was, bigger than a finger, smaller than a cock. It felt good but strange. Then it was gone and his hand was back on he table..., with that tube of steak now sopping wet with my cunt juice. 

"How about some of my meat to eat little slut? You do eat the meat that pleasures your cunt don't you?" 

Even as he was speaking to me he was shoving the tube of sliced steak into my mouth. It was clear that he meant for me to chew and swallow it, and I did so. I recognized the flavor of my pussy all over it. 

After that first slice of the Senators 'meat,' much of the rest of my meal was fed to me a mouthful at a time, each morsel coming by way of my wet pussy. Just as well, I didn't have the use of my own hands to eat with, anyway. Alvin and the Senator had opened their flys, and pulled my hands inside their pants to stroke their semi-hard cocks. 

When It was time for desert, Alvin announced to the waiter that we would take our brandy and coffee it the lounge. I was relieved to sit up and unhook my legs. For the first time since that original glass of wine was poured, no hand was between my legs and I was allowed to close my thighs. Alvin's game of shaming me wasn't over, however. On our way to the bar I was again led across the dining room with all eyes staring at me. The Lounge was tavern style, fairly dark and furnished with couches behind low tables discreetly tucked away into semi-private little alcoves. I could see that it was an ideal place for my escorts to continue my sexual abuse. 

The Senator sat down first at the extreme corner of the couch. I saw him surreptitiously unzip his fly. Alvin took a firm hold of my arm and to pulled me to our waiting guest. His orders were quick a direct. "Pull the back of your dress up Melanie, and sit your bare ass down on the Senators lap. He is going to slide his cock inside you, and you are going to squeeze him with your cunt until you bring him off."

What else could I do? I was a toy to these men. They were determined to use and humiliate me, and I had no choice but to go along. I felt the Senator's hand fumbling under me, and then the big head of his dick probing at my slit. "Oh God," I thought. "This is going to be more than I can stand." 

He was in me then, As that long male rod slid smoothly up my wet canal I managed to muffle the scream that wanted to come out, but I did whimper some. I was so full and it felt sooo good to at last be full of cock after so much teasing. I knew what I must do, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on using my walls of my pussy to press the man juice from that wonderful penis. Before shutting my eyes though is saw the two men in the alcove across the room leant toward one another. I knew they must be discussing what was going on over here. I saw one of them start to smile knowingly. I was glad that I didn't have to look at them further. 

Our waiter from the restaurant followed us into the bar. I don't know if he was supposed to do that or just didn't want to miss whatever might happen to me next. Anyway, for some reason he brought with him a cute little brunette bar maid. He must have warned her to expect something bizarre because they both immediately recognized that I was sitting on a cock. The waitress couldn't take her eyes off my face, and I saw her tremble slightly. I thought at first her reaction was only sympathy for my plight, but what happened next proved me wrong. We weren't supposed to see, but our waiter ran his hand up under the back of her short ruffled skirt and her tremble became a shudder. The little hussy was imagining what it might be like to be fucked in public like this, and she was ready to go into heat just from considering the possibility. 

The two of them took our desert order and returned with brandy, some little cakes and ice cream. I was in no condition to enjoy any of it but I did gulp down a full glass of brandy trying to calm myself. l absolutely ached to bounce my hips on the stick that held me pegged on the Senator's lap, but I knew if I did, I would cum for sure. God but how I did need to cum, but there was no way I could do so and still control myself. The whole damn restaurant would be sure to know the blond tramp in the sexy dress was being publicly fucked. There was simply no alternative. I had to sit there and try with all my might to bite this cruel cock with my pussy. 

In the end I held back my orgasm, and the Senator didn't cum either. I don't know if he took pity on me or he was just bored and ready to move on to my next humiliation. One way or the other, he eventually he lifted me off his cock and sat my bare ass down on the seat beside him. After that warm cock, OH but that leather was cold. 

My meal from hell was finally over and our waiter brought us the check. "You have done well, Arthur," Alvin said speaking to the waiter, "So well in fact that I would like to reward you with a little something extra. Follow us out to the lobby where Melanie here is going to drop the top of her dress to show you her tits. You will find them to be soft and beautiful, a prize for any man. You have one minute in which to play with them, Enjoy!"

There was a hush over the dinning room as we made our way out of the lounge and to the front door with our waiter in tail. This trip was even worse than any before as we made our way thru the very center of the room. My dress was wrinkled and my make up had run. I was all ablush. I know I must have looked exactly like what I was, a woman freshly fucked. Alvin made me carry my panties in my hand again, and I heard one woman exclaim "Slut Trash" as I walked by, not loud enough to make a scene, but loud enough to be sure I heard. 

At the door from the lobby into the parking lot, Alvin commanded "Now." I knew what I was to do. I slid the straps off my shoulders and let the top of my dress drop to expose my breasts. Arthur the waiter wasted not one second of his sixty mauling my breasts with his hands, and he finished his 'extra tip' with his tongue wrapped around one of my nipples. 

The shame of my parade thru the dining room had brought me down some from the horny high I had been on all thru our meal, but the waiter's mouth on my teat set me off again. I couldn't wait any longer. As soon as we were safely in the back seat of our cab, I pulled the Senator's cock out of his fly, and began to blow him without being told. I could taste myself still all over him. He was on the edge himself from soaking in my cunt, and he came a bucketful. I swallowed it all and continued to hold him in my mouth gently sucking him like a pacifier all the way home. On our arrival, Alvin favored the cab driver with the same 'extra tip' as he had given the waiter back at the restaurant.

In our bedroom at last, Alvin told me to strip, and then to help the senator off with his clothes as well. Alvin sat in a chair, his pants and boxer shorts pulled down to his knees. His prick was greasy with hand lotion. His eyes stared blankly off into space as if in a dream as he slowly and methodically masturbated. The Senator, his clothes finally off, stretched his long frame diagonally across Alvin's and my bed. 

Alvin remained in his trance. His directions to me were as if he was far away. "Lay on top of him Melanie," "Let him feel the weight of your body...,Let him smell you..., press your soft tits against him..., Let him taste your lips and tongue..., lick his ear and whisper to him of your desire..., share with him the wet from your pussy..., Let your body tell him how ready you are for his cock..., make love to him..., arouse him..., stir him to fuck you!"

Dutifully, like an actor on a movie set responding to the instructions of her director, I made love to the Senator. Using my odor, the crush of my body, my lips and tongue, the softness of my skin, and the feminine allure of my breasts and sex, I sought to bring blood and life back to the penis of the man under me. Sure enough, gradually his great male weapon begin to rearm itself under my weight and caresses. My kisses landed randomly on his lips, under his chin, on his ears, under his arms, and brought groans of rising desire. Bit by bit his great cock was on the rise, forcing itself upward toward the pussy that was eagerly squirming against his crotch.

He was at last ready, up and erect, a pole I could feel between my thighs, ready to probe at my pussy. He was no more ready than I, however. I was in heat, even panicky in my desperation to have him inside me. 

"Fuck me Senator. Please fuck me now," I begged him.

He did not answer. I didn't care. Using my knees for leverage, I lifted my pelvis the inches I needed to reach my arm back between us. My breasts, however, remained crushed against his chest, and my mouth over his as if frozen there. Under my belly, and over the top his, my hand searched vainly for his cock, groping like a blind woman, certain of my target, but lost non-the-less. 

At last! Despite the disorientation of my frenzy, my fingers closed around my prize. He was directly under hips as I aimed him at my pussy. I lowered myself just enough that my hand could rub that big swollen head along the length of my slit, futilely trying to pry my pussy lips apart. Failure! Confusion! Frustration! He must be solidly wedged in my cunt if I am to impale myself there, and I could not make him fit. 

Another try! Better! The cock head slipped a half inch inside me. My tissues took hold. I had him and it was time! I rocked my hips backward and down..., hard. I felt him slide inside me, filling me completely..., I was so wet and ready. No longer needing my knees for support, I lay flat on top of him with my legs straight down his side. Then, desperate to absorb every tiny bit of his length, I spread them outward as wide as I could make them stretch. 

The two of us lay quietly joined, immobile for the longest time, as I enjoyed being so filled with all that delicious male flesh, and he pleasured himself with the grip of my equally delicious warm clinging cunt. That was when Alvin ceased to masturbate, and left his trance. In the next minute he was kneeing on the bed behind me aiming his greasy prick at my butt hole. 

"Reach back and spread the cheeks of your ass, Melanie"

My husband had never fucked me in the ass before, but I had been so recently stretched back there by Peter and Harvey that Alvin's small prick slid in easily to his balls without any pain to me. I began to orgasm immediately. Eddie Farmer and one of his fraternity brothers had once fucked me in a sandwich like this, but I had forgotten how erotic it can be to feel two cocks rubbing against the opposite sides of the same membrane deep in my belly. 

My two masters begin to actively fuck me, and I could remain silent no longer. I pleaded with them, "Oh God, more, more. Fuck me please. I want more. My pussy! My ass! Fuck me!"

The stamina of my two lovers was remarkable. Minute after minute the two of them continued to pump at my two holes until I was going off in a string, my orgasms coming like firecrackers, bang..., bang..., bang..., bang... And then it was over, first the Senator, and then my husband, gave up their seed, spilling it into my pussy and into my bowel. 

We showered together, and I gave the Senator, and then my husband, leisurely blow jobs before we dropped off to sleep. As I sucked Alvin's dick, the Senator ate my pussy in the sweetest and most delightful way. He is going to be a wonderful lover. I hope Alvin's research project does indeed last a long long time. The three of us slept the night away together with me safe in the warmth between my two lovers. We awoke the following morning in a tangle of naked flesh, but sated and satisfied, and we began our day with a communal bath. I dried them with tongue and towel, and gave them each a blow jobs as a good cunt slave should do on the morning after. 

For the next two days of the Senator's visit, my husband and our guest took turns using and abusing me. It was glorious. On his last night with us, they tied my hands behind my back and draped me face down over the big padded arm of the couch. My legs were spread as wide as the would go, and my toes were barely touching the floor. Helplessly and in glorious submission I had never been in such heat as the Senator laid on my back, hugged me to him, and played with my tits even as he fucked my ass. I must have cum a dozen times.

EPILOGUE - SIX MONTHS LATER

At the time MY NEIGHBOR had seduced me into becoming his slut, I had no idea how satisfying this new life would be for me. For the first time since Eddie Farmer had thrown me over so many years before, I was once more what I was born to be, a slut in the service of a big prick. For me submission to a stud who will use and abuse me is plainly a necessity. It is awful of me to admit a weakness like that, but I have found it is better to be a man's slave than it is to live in a constant state of unsatisfied horny. 

When MY NEIGHBOR first took me as his slut, my greatest fear was that my husband would find out, and kick me out into the street rather than live with a tramp like me. Not only did he not do that, he turned out to be delighted by my servitude to Peter, often watching and even taking part as MY NEIGHBOR fucks and abuses me. Indeed, whenever he believes I have misbehaved, he sends me scurrying naked next door for a dose of MY NEIGHBOR's whip and then his big cock. It titillates him to know his wife is a slave slut subject to that kind of discipline. I must admit that I also am aroused by what my punishment will surely be. Sometimes I disobey my loving husband only because I know how sexy and arousing it will be to have Peter to first whip me, and then while I am still on fire from my beating, fuck me with his great penis.

Things have turned out almost as well for Becky Archer. She stays with her preacher husband in order to mother and care for their children, and he is in no position to raise any kind of stink because of his own well photographed sexual misdeeds. Becky is well pleased with her situation, however, because like myself, she is given ample opportunities to ride on MY NEIGHBOR's oversized cock. 

Her husband has found another interest. The Reverend has completed his period of chastisement by the Palmers, but in the process he discovered that he could get off on being abused by Susan Palmer. He is now her full time cock slave, and she is permanently his 'Mistress Susan'. Joe Palmer has moved in with a waitress from the truck stop outside of town, and seems happy to have a woman with big tits in his bed for a change.

Dottie continues to serve her both her husband and his slutty mistress as their slave concubine. When the need arises, Dottie plays also pleasures her husband's clients as a whore. It is not all work and no play for her, however. Three or four times a week she is privileged to enjoy Harvey's foot long black cock in her pussy. Like me, she has found just what she needs for sexual peace.




My Neighbor Ch. 6



So you see, while my friends and I may not all live happily ever after, we have, each of us, found a level of satisfaction for our deepest sexual desires that is more complete that most people ever achieve..., all because I took to spying on MY NEIGHBOR and his big cock.

* * * * *

This is the concluding chapter of MY NEIGHBOR. I hope you all enjoyed it, and are grateful enough to at least VOTE. Large or small number, you read the story and you owe it a VOTE. If the spirit should move you, drop this old man a note about what you thought of the story. Every morning, the first thing I do is to look for your e-mails and feed back. I make that a special invitation to Elizabeth, and Sandra, and the anonymous lady who takes such delight in teasing me. Don't me shy ladies. Hell, I'm too old to be dangerous. I will answer your questions and I love to tease. I promise to do both politely, but be fair, I need an e-mail address. 

EVERYBODY, I can appreciate you want to protect your privacy, but Literotica and a hundred sites on the net offer an e-mail address that won't disclose your name or anything else you prefer to keep to yourself. My own is just such an address, and everyone ought to have one like it in order that you and I can correspond, yet both remain quite anonymous. Come on. Lets get to know each other. I may be a bit long in the tooth, but I'm really a bright and interesting guy worth the trouble if you will give me a chance.