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Pierced

By: cymbidia



Disclaimer: The type of play depicted in this story could do you permanent harm, physically and/or emotionally. Don't try this or any other blood play without a piercing professional somewhere nearby. Special thanks to KM for editing beyond the call of duty. All the errors you encounter are mine.

He smiled at me from across the small round table. It was a smile of loving regard, of slowly building desire. 

I reached out to clasp one of his hands between both of mine. “I love you,” I told him for the millionth time, meaning it as surely as I had the first time I’d said it. 

He walked his fingers up the outside of my arm, past my elbow and then back down the inside, stroking over my wrist lightly where my veins showed through the fine skin. Leaning in, he cupped my cheek in his strong hand and smiled again. 

“I love you, too,” he told me tenderly. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” 

Without haste, he came around the table to me and drew me up against his body. He pressed my back gently against the wall and fitted himself to me. Fisting his hand into my hair, he pulled my head back and looked down at me for a few long wordless moments, his eyes stroking over my face almost tactilely. 

As his lips closed over mine, I shivered. Hot spikes of desire shot through my skin and traveled to my core. My tongue slipped and sparred with his and I felt the familiar drugging addiction of his need calling mine. 

We were shaking with reaction, our breathing labored, when he broke the kiss. We’d never been able to explain to each other the arousal ignited by this intensely intimate act. We cherished it, though, and never took for granted the heat that flared between us at the smallest of touches. 

His hands eased out of my hair and he looked deeply into my eyes, his fingers smoothing fine blonde strands away from my face. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, rising desire making his voice a little rough while concern colored the nuances. 

“I am, Master,” I answered him, my hands running lightly, freely, over his arms and up to his shoulders. I loved the feel of his skin under my fingers. “We’ve wanted it for a long time and we’re ready for it, both of us. We’ve got the needles. We’ve got the antiseptic stuff.” I paused a moment, sighing, and reminded him, “We only have four of the rings, though.” 

“I think four rings is enough for you, little pain slut,” he teased in a laughing whisper, his hands caressing down over my throat and my breasts, stroking my nipples into erect points. “I’ll put the slave bars in your nipples another time, okay? Four rings is enough for you today.” 

Leaning, he fastened his wet, warm mouth over one nipple and sucked hard. At the same time, he squeezed the other nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger. I cried out quietly and my knees buckled a little, a fierce wash of heat roiling through my body at the sudden sensation. 

He checked on me, assessing my emotions and feelings by virtue of long habit, noting the heat as it rose through my body and into my face to stain my cheeks a telltale pink. 

“I love you when you’re strong and centered and in charge of the world.” He murmured the words, his lips tickling across my throat, “and I love you when you’re not. But it’s the masochist in you that calls to me most loudly right now, my slave.” 

Pointing, he named the items laid out on the small table. “Needles. Rings. Soft cloth for the blood. Antiseptic lotion.” 

He picked up one of the rings and held it out toward me on the palm of his hand. His face was somber and his eyes asked a question. The ring looked small and delicate lying against his skin. 

I bent over his hand and kissed it, the ring between my lips and his palm. “Please,” I asked, correctly interpreting what he wanted from me, the words coming easily from my suddenly dry mouth. “Use your needle on me. Pierce me. Put your rings into me.” I raised my eyes to meet his and whispered the last words. “Hurt me, Master, as only you can, as only you want to, as I must have from you. Please.” 

He nodded and his hand closed on the ring. His lips descended to mine for another searing kiss, a kiss that left us both breathless and shaking. And then he moved to the bed and laid a white towel over the patterned spread. “Come here.” 

I obeyed, my nipples stiff from his touches, the blush of arousal heating my skin. When I was close, he reached for my hand. 

“On your back,” he instructed, positioning me as he spoke, his hands gentle on my body. “Butt centered on the towel. Spread your legs and keep them spread. Yes, like that. Good. Very good.” 

The towel was thick and warm against my skin but I was suddenly cold and insecure. I wanted something in my hands, something to hold and to jam into my mouth when the sharpness came trailing the pain. Fingers reaching, I searched blindly over my head for the pillow and clutched into its softness. 

He spread my legs a little more widely and lightly touched my bare pussy lips. One finger caressed my skin, his warmth bleeding into mine. I stilled, the spare eroticism of his touch inciting tendrils of heat along the path his finger chose. Pulling gently at the small patch of light hair atop my pubic mound, he leaned over to kiss just below my navel and asked, “Scared?” 

“Yes, Master,” I answered honestly. My eyes slid closed as he parted my labia with one finger. 

His finger pressed my clit. “Here,” he told me, circling it, smiling when I inhaled sharply and my eyes flew open. He gently pinched one of my outer lips, “here,” and then pinched the other one, “and here.” 

He leaned toward me and I saw that his nipples were erect. He, too, was feeling the undeniable heat of the sexuality that curled and flexed between us like a living thing. His blue eyes met mine and I moaned, responding to the flare of hunger in their depths. “This is the last time I’ll ask it: are you ready for this? It’s going to be very intense, my little slave. I’m going to do the piercings slowly and take everything I can from you in the process.” 

Drawn by his heat, caught and held by his intensity, I nodded. He leaned over and kissed me lightly, and I released my pillow to touch through his hair, my fingers combing through its thick wildness. 

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips, flowing away from me. With easy fingers and a sure touch, he cleaned my labia with antiseptic solution, paying special attention to the place into which he would put the first ring. I reached for my pillow again, suddenly unsure. 

He’s done a lot of piercings, I chanted to myself, holding tightly to the pillow. He’s good at this. It excites him. You trust him. He’s your Master. I took a steadying breath, reaching for calm. It was too late. Red fear bloomed violently in the back of my brain and raced to overthrow the trust I’d so faithfully tended. The fear grappled with the trust and they wrestled, screaming obscenities, to the floor. 

I felt the piercing forceps squeeze tightly and I jumped, stiffening. He slid a finger between my pussy lips, just a light gliding touch, as his other hand stroked down my leg, reassuring me. “Slippery,” he observed softly, licking his wet finger. He smiled into my eyes. “You’re such a masochist,” he told me. The words nestled into my heart, another declaration of love. 

“I’m scared,” I whispered, clinging to the warm emotion he’d offered, my words barely loud enough to be heard above the war being waged inside my mind. “Please, Master, please... “ My words trailed off into silence. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

He would stop if I asked it of him. I knew he would. We’d never had a safe word for me and I’d never needed one. He’d devoted himself to learning my limits, my fantasies, my fears and secrets. I trusted him to push me to where we both wanted to go. Did I want to stop now? We’d been anticipating this experience for a long time and to stop now would be a huge disappointment for both of us. “No, Master. No. Please…just do it.” 

He stroked the inside of my leg, knee to groin. “I want this for you as much as I want it for me. You know that.” He reached to the side and held a needle up so I could see it. “No bondage, my slave, just obedience and trust. It’s only you and me and the pain.” His eyes held mine and reflected the edged need that raced between us crying for consummation. “I want you to be very still. Keep your legs spread widely.” 

I took a deep breath as the 14-gauge needle pressed against the outside of my skin. It popped through the relatively tough layer of my epidermis and into the much softer, far more fragile tissue below. He moved it into me very slowly, taking his time. He was using the needle as a means of reaching for my reaction, for my strength, for the heat, the fear, and wild truth I would give him in the face of this pain. He was piercing me as a means of giving voice to the sadism that ran hotly in his veins, the sadism that dovetailed perfectly into my requirement for pain and my obedience to the one who could hurt me in the way I needed to be hurt. 

I screamed, jamming the pillow over my face so its softness would absorb some of my sounds, but I held my legs immobile, too, forcing their compliance with his instructions. Heat washed over my body; trembling followed. The first sharp hot pop was followed by finely focused pain. I moaned, sliding the pillow off my face, begging him for something. More? Less? Stop? Go faster? Heat centered low in my belly and gathered slickly between my legs. As always, the pain aroused me in a wildly immediate manner. 

“It’s through,” he said after a long few minutes, his voice oddly strained, “and with only a little bit of blood.” He sawed the needle through my labia a couple times before removing it and the forceps. “Now the ring.” I sucked in another deep breath and held it while he pushed the ring through the new hole and captured the bead into the ends of the ring. 

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered me, his voice deepening. “You’re beautiful. Touch it.” 

With slightly shaking fingers, I reached down between my spread legs and traced the ring where it plunged into my skin and then touched where it came back out. “I like it,” I told him as his fingers moved to twine with mine, to touch the ring with me. Together we stroked the softness of my bare pussy lips, touching the ring repeatedly, both of us moving it through my labia, back and forth, back and forth. Then he put my hand to the side. “Now the next one,” he murmured, his lips tracing lightly over the place where the ring plunged into my skin, kissing and licking. 

The fear came galloping back, trampling the eroticism under its sharp panicked alarm. Could I do it again? Again? Knowing the pain, the heat, and the fear? Oh God, how? How could I do it again? How could I let him use his needle on me, there, again? 

Scared, I shot a quick glance into his face. He was looking back at me steadily. His focused competence reassured me. His obvious arousal incited mine. He required my obedience, my faith, my responsiveness, and my trust. I needed to give him what he wanted. I willed myself to relax. I would give all that I could to him. Again, yes. "As you wish, Master,” I answered quietly, reaching to graze his face with my shaking fingertips and promising myself not to scream this time. 

His hands were steady when he touched me, inspecting the first piercing for the placement of the second. He spread my labia open, adjusting his plans to insure the rings would mirror each other. He cleaned me again and slipped the forceps tightly over my skin. “For us,” he said to me, meeting my eyes again, “for what lies between us, for our shared need.” He pressed the tip of the needle against my skin. “Be still, my slave,” he reminded me, sure of my obedience. 

Hot. Pointed. Pain. I screamed again, heedless of my resolve to the contrary, and clutched the bedspread at both sides of my body. The pillow fell off to one side, forgotten. I didn’t move my legs but my hands gripped desperately into the fabric beneath them. Digging pain, slowly burrowing. He gasped, his eyes intent, his pupils enlarged with arousal. Slowly, over long minutes, he pushed the needle through and out the other side of my labia. 

“It’s done,” he told me, his words rough with the stress of his arousal. “Open your eyes. Breathe.” I pressed my palms flat against the bunched-up bedspread and panted lightly. My body felt slick, like it was coated with a light film of sweat. A thicker film of far more slippery moisture was pooled between my now-pierced labia. 

His fingers moved the needle back and forth in the new hole a few times before pulling it out and removing the forceps. The ring went through the bloody hole easily, and then he slipped the bead into place between the ends of the ring. I was trembling, reaction and arousal raging through my body. 

“God, I love the way you sound when you’re open to me like that,” he exclaimed hotly, sweeping up my body to kiss me, his hands holding my face still while his lips and tongue plundered deeply. Almost as suddenly, he resumed his place in the chair at my feet and looked between my legs again. “They’re beautiful. Touch them,” he insisted, using a soft cloth to dab at the blood that was welling from both of the piercings. 

Reaching, I touched the first then moved a finger to the second. The two silver rings were close, so close that they rested lightly against each other. His fingers joined mine and we explored their placement. He dabbed at the blood again, reassuring me that though the second was bleeding more than the first, it wasn’t anything to worry about. His fingers moved on mine as if mine were puppets, moving my fingers against my clit, circling and pressing. 

“The bleeding will soon stop. It’s not unusual and nothing to worry about.” He leaned forward, licking the inside of my thigh, smiling a little when I shivered in response. “They’re beautiful, those rings. I want to pull them with my teeth, just to watch you while I do it. I want to lick your skin through them. I want to see what they look like with weights and locks hung from them.” 

I sucked in a hard breath at his words, my body a thing of flame and aching arousal. Lifting my hand, I saw that my fingers were coated, red and shiny wet. My pussy contracted hard and I moaned, then slipped the fingers into my mouth and sucked the blood off them. In all our play, he’d never made me bleed like this, never pierced into me so deeply, literally or emotionally. 

We looked at each other across the few feet that separated us, my bent and raised knees framing our faces. In his I saw the erotic intensity he could summon almost from the air and felt it pull an answering shiver of obedience and desire from me. 

“I’m going to do your clit hood now,” he told me, holding my gaze with naked honesty of his passion. “The other piercings may be taken out as we wish but this one will stay in forever, a symbol of your submission to me and my love for you.” He stroked up my leg, ankle to pussy, and cupped his hand over the new rings. “This will hurt.” 

He dropped his eyes and parted my labia. This time his fingers found my clit and pulled at the loose ridge of skin above it. I moaned as he poked and swirled and caressed the area, and my clit throbbed in an almost unbearable manner. 

“You won’t touch my clit during this, will you, Master?” 

“I won’t touch your clit with the needle,” he promised. Sincerity laced his words. It was the same assurance he’d given me every other time I’d asked the question. 

He directed me to hold my labia open while he pulled and rubbed at the skin immediately above my clit. “You’ll have to hold yourself open while I do this, my slave,” he directed. “You can’t let go and you can’t move your fingers.” He looked up at me. “Will you do that?” 

I nodded and my words were raspy with hot desire and cold fear when I answered. “I won’t move. I won’t let go.” I was scared at the thought of not having my pillow or the bedspread to clutch. 

He smiled and leaned to kiss the inside of my knee, his teeth biting lightly and sending a shock of sensation skittering away from the spot. I knew he trusted and believed me as much as I trusted and believed him. 

For a long moment he was still, his fierce desire to control me rampaging across his face. He needed me obey him in this even though I wasn’t bound. He needed to kindle in my body the twin fires of consuming pain and desire. Mastering the violence of his lust, he turned to his preparations and I felt the now-familiar cool wash of antiseptic solution over my clit. Pinching the place gently, he fed my clit hood into the forceps. 

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on his movements, so sure and steady, but the fear returned, dragging a great slavering horror with it. All the pictures I’d seen and stories I’d read of horrible female mutilation crowded into my mind. I fought it, reaching toward the devotion that bound me to him, touching the deep well of utter trust and love I felt in him and for him. Fear and horror receded to the edges of my awareness. Acceptance replaced it, crowded closely by flaming desire. I waited, floating, my legs and fingers still, my emotions reverberating with the intensity that flowed unchecked between us. 

“Take a deep breath, baby,” he cautioned, his words sounding quiet and far away. “This is the one we’ve both wanted. This is for us, between us, you and me, me and you.” 

And it began. Deeply digging, wickedly pointed, needle-sharp pain. Slowly pushing, slowly parting, slowly pressing into me, my nerves screaming, my throat and mouth screaming. Protest, welcome, and savage desire seeped from my body's cells and exited with my screams. 

It went on and on, long minutes of soul-scraping pain and wildly exultant obedience. “Finish it,” I gasped, my words bald, pain bleeding them of nuance. “Finish it, God, finish it. Please. Please. Master, please!” 

“Almost done,” he promised me raggedly, his words hoarse with exultant pleasure at his utter mastery of my body and soul. “Keep your hands still and your legs open.” 

He continued, intent, focused, aroused, and tightly in control. He was spearing for my reaction and fishing for the depths of my submission. He was pushing me further than I’d ever been in terms of my obedience to him. 

“FINISH IT!” I shrieked at the end of a series of wordless screams that his slow needle pulled from me. I was at the limit of my ability to be still, obey, and accept. 

“Almost done,” he promised again, sounding distant. The needle and the pain were my sole focus, my sole reality. His words skimmed lightly over the top of my awareness with the solidity of dust motes in a sunbeam. 

And then it was done. The pain flowed out of my body like the spiraling of water down a bathtub drain. A bubbling, joyful eroticism replaced it. I felt him push the small silver ring through the hole, and felt him capture the silver bead to secure it, but none of that hurt. Maybe nothing will ever hurt again, I thought irrationally, half in relief, half in horror. 

“Oh God,” I moaned when he pushed my fingers between the folds of my labia to feel the new ring. I pressed it and white sparks of acute sensation seared into my clit. I moaned again, and again, walking the hard edge of the pain-pleasure fence as my fingers twirled and danced over my new ring. 

He laughed, the sound at odds with the severity of the driving passion lashing us. “Wait,” he told me, holding up the fourth ring, a match to the one in my clit hood. “I was going to put this in your perineum but I’ve decided it should go below the hood ring instead, into your inner labia.” 

I smiled at him, awash with the kind of floating pleasure that the sudden absence of intense pain brings. “It’s yours to choose, my Master,” I replied, lifting my fingers from their fascination with my new rings and sucking them clean. 


Pierced



Warning! This story deals with body piercing. While some of the details are true, doing what is done in the story would probably be dangerous. Always have a professional perform piercings, and do it in a safe manner. Have fun!

Beth was a tall gawky girl. At 5'11", and 120 pounds she always had felt awkward about her body. Because of this she grew up shy and reserved as a teenager. She had not had many dates in high school and her only lovers were her fingers. She wanted to explore a little bit, and to become more socially active, but with classes and sports and her shyness she had never really given it a go. She did have some friends though, and they seemed to get dates. Beth was visiting with two of her good friends, Victoria and Jane, when she brought the subject up. 

"Why don't the boys like me?", said Beth as she sat on the floor of Jane's bedroom, eating ice cream straight from the box. 

"Because you are a shy little prude!", replied Victoria, "Sorry, but you needed to hear that." She was a short girl of Latin American decent. Short and thin, with long, curly, black hair. Victoria never had problems with the boys. She often wore short, sexy skirts to school. 

"You need to do something wild. Something that will rev you up a little bit.", followed Jane. Jane was a larger girl, but not too big. She had enormous breasts for a girl of her age. Her straight blonde hair fell across her shoulders. She grabbed another scoop of ice cream from Beth and ate it crosslegged on the floor. Jane had survived by being a complete slut. Despite her size, she did very well with the boys. Perhaps it was the bright red lipstick she always wore, perhaps it was the long flowing skirts with no panties underneath, perhaps it was the fact that she had a reputation for sleeping with any guy on the first date. "Look at you, you've never done anything wild. You don't even have your ears pierced." 

"My ears pierced?", Beth sighed, pulling at her earlobe beneath her long straight brown hair. "I don't know. What if it gets infected? Won't it hurt?" 

"You are so lame", said Victoria. "Everybody has their ears pierced, and a whole lot more these days. I mean look at this". Victoria pulled up her shirt to reveal a small ring in her belly button. Beth gasped with amazement. 

"Oh my God! I can't believe you did that!", exclaimed Beth. 

"It's no big deal. I've got one too", said Jane, pulling up her shirt to reveal a similar ring. 

"When did you guys get that done?" said Beth. She could almost feel the pain of needles entering her navel. 

"We did it a few weeks ago. Together. We didn't invite you because we knew that you wouldn't approve.", said Jane. "My brother is friends with this guy who works downtown. He's really cute." The two pierced girls giggled. "You know, why don't we take you down and get your ears pierced. That's pretty tame for him, but I'm sure he'll do it". 

"I don't know. That's pretty scary", said Beth hesitantly. 

"Don't be a wuss. We'll make an appointment for tomorrow. Just your ears, we promise." Said Victoria. "Trust us. You won't regret it". 

"Well, OK, but just my ears. I don't want any of that freaky stuff.", said Beth. 

The next day arrived. Beth showed up at Victoria's house to meet her two friends. Beth had her hair down, just in case. It reached the small of her back. She was wearing an ankle length brown cotton dress. It was sleeveless and cool in the summer heat. The dress had about thirty buttons down the front and tiny white flowers on it. It hugged her body fairly tightly. Beth was taut. Very tight stomach, tight legs. No breasts whatsoever. Even an A-cup bra fit loosely on her tall, lanky frame. She was also wearing her favourite pair of brown leather boots. 

She picked up Victoria and Jane (who was already waiting for her), and the three of them proceeded to the piercing store downtown. Beth had a few anxiety attacks along the way, and had to be continually re-convinced by her two friends. The piercing studio was a pretty while place. They also had tattoos there, and the man at the front counter was covered with biker pictures. He was a very scary man. Jane warmly greeted him and explained that they had an appointment with Jeff, the senior piercer. The man directed them to the back, to Jeff's private space. 

Jeff's 'space' was a dirty looking back room. There was a table with piercing paraphernalia on it, and what looked like a reclining barber's chair. The walls were all black, and there were posters and advertisements all over the place. It was a little dark, but Jeff turned on a bright, moveable light when they walked it. Jeff was a pretty scary looking guy. He had spiky black hair, and was wearing an old black tank top shirt, with black jeans. Jeff's arms were covered in tattoos, and his whole face was pierced. His lip and his eyebrow, and his ears, and his nose, and more. Beth almost passed flat out when he stuck his pierced tongue out at her. Jeff liked to be considered a freak, but he was actually a good piercer. He was always clean and hygienic, explained the procedures clearly, and was able to handle even the most bizarre requests. Beth thought that for a 'senior piercer' Jeff looked mighty young. Her could only have been a few years older than the girls. 

Victoria and Jane both gave Jeff a big hug and introduced him to Beth. Beth shook his hand politely and mumbled a 'how-do-you-do'. That's when Jeff responded by showing Beth his pierced tongue. "So, it's an ear piercing today huh? I can handle that". Said Jeff. "Sit down in the chair". He motioned to the chair. Beth sat down quietly. She began to perspire from nervousness. She was trying to keep her courage up, but it was pretty scary. This place was strange and dangerous looking. She was glad that she had her two friends with her. They seemed to be at ease, which made her a bit more comfortable. She was too embarrassed to chicken out at this point. "The first thing we are going to need to do is get that hair out of the way", said Jeff. He got behind her and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Which he then rubber banded. It exposed her long neck and slim shoulders to the air of a fan nearby. It made her go all goosebumpy. She was still perspiring from her nervousness, which only got worse when he put his hands on her body for the first time. 

Jeff then reclined the chair, so that she was almost lying flat on a diagonal surface. It put her head even with his hands when he sat on his stool. "Now, I don't want to get you nervous, but we are going to have to hold your hands down", said Jeff. "It is pretty standard with people who seem as nervous as you do. Please put your hands over your head". Victoria and Jane both took her wrists and began to buckle them to straps on the top portion of the chair. "You see, this is a delicate operation. If you flinch and take a swing at me, I could miss with the needle and you could get hurt". Beth understood that. It made her even more nervous to have her hands tied down like that. With her sleeveless dress her underarms were completely exposed to view. It is a good thing, she though, that she had remembered to shave that morning. She felt a drop of sweat sliding down her side, and she realized that her nervousness was totally visible to all the other people in the room. 

Victoria and Jane took her ankles and placed them into similar restraints. Again, the purpose was to stop Beth from accidentally kicking. It made good sense from a safety perspective she thought. Victoria and Jane then both moved away and sat on stools, watching. Jeff proceeded about his business, preparing needles, choosing jewelry, etc. "So girls, how are the navel rings doing?" He asked. Victoria and Jane both lifted their shirts and sounded their satisfaction. After making sure that everything was in order, Jeff spun around in his stool and came face to face with Jane. "OK Jane, here is what is going to happen. I have here in my right hand a hollow needle. It is 16 gauge, which is very small. In my right hand I have a piece of cork. I am going to place the cork behind your ear, and then poke through with the needle. That should only hurt for a second. Then I am going to place the end of the jewelry in the needle and pull it though as I pull the needle out. But first, we have to wash up". He put the needle and the cork down and picked up a bottle of antiseptic. He washed down Beth's ears with a cotton swab. Beth was getting more nervous, but she felt something else too. Not only was she wet under her arms, but she was getting wet between her legs too. It was a strange feeling for her. It might have been the hint of danger, the idea of going against nature, or the wildness of it all. 

Jeff picked up the cork and needle and moved closer to Beth's left ear. He placed the cork behind the ear. Beth began to shake uncontrollably with fear and excitement. Between the fan, her perspiration, and the excitement, she became very cold. Goosebumps all over her body. Jeff put the tip of the needle against the flesh of her ear. She could feel the sharpness of it. "Are you ready?", said Jeff. Beth nodded her agreement. Her teeth were chattering slightly. She had no control over the situation. Jeff pressed the needle into the virgin flesh of Beth's ear. A shock of pain flew through Beth's body. It hurt worse than anything she had ever felt before. But then, strangely, another feeling took over. A delirium-like state. Her body felt warm all over. She stopped shivering, even though more sweat was pouring out of her. She could smell her own nervousness. Jane and Victoria watched intently. 

Jeff didn't say a word, but proceeded to thread the earring though. He then wiped up again with the antiseptic, and threw away the used needle and cork. He took another set from the table and swung his chair around to the other side of Beth's head. This time was different for her. The first time was the nervousness of the unknown. She had no idea what it would feel like to have her body penetrated like that. This second time it was the nervousness of knowing. She knew exactly what would happen. She understood exactly what the flash of pain would be like as he violated her body with steel. She became very frightened and asked him to stop. Jane calmed her down and told her that it would look silly to have only one ear pierced. She couldn't chicken out now. She dreaded the pain, but in a way, longed for that feeling of euphoria that came after. The human body is an amazing thing. Sometimes, after injury or exhaustion, the brain released pain-killers and pleasure making chemicals into the blood stream. One can become addicted rather easily. 

Jeff placed the other cork behind her right hear and touched her lobe with the needle. This time he didn't even ask if she was ready or not. He just waited a second and then jabbed the instrument through. Beth had not had time to steel herself and gasped in pain. She pulled against the restraints. No wonder they were there. She would have pushed him away. In a second, it was through. Beth was still in the delirium state when Jeff went back to his workbench to prepare another needle. The procedure was over, though Beth. Thank god. I made it through. I faced my fear. She felt happy about it, and the fact that her friends wouldn't call her a wimp anymore. Peer pressure is an amazing motivator. Victoria and Jane made no move to release her hands from the restraints though. That was odd. "Hey guys, let me out of this thing", said Beth, struggling against the restraints to free herself. The leather straps held her in place. 

Jeff spoke up, turning around with another needle. "Not just yet Beth. You see, your friends tell me that inside you are a wild girl, but you are too reserved to let it all out. I know that I will never get you in my chair again, so your friends have asked me to complete the job in one sitting". He moved toward her with the needle. "Next we are going to pierce your nose." 

"No, no!", screamed Beth. "I never agreed to that. Guys help me!". Beth struggled against the restraints, but to no avail. Her friends just sat there and watched, smiling. "Help, help", said Beth. 

"No one who cares can hear you all the way back here", said Victoria. "You know you want it Beth. We know that you have a secret desire to be a wild freak, so we're going to make it happen. Whether you like it or not. You'll thank us later". Jane nodded in agreement. Jeff moved closer to Beth's nose with the needle. Beth had a long straight nose that in her opinion needed no adornment. She twisted her head to get away from him. Jeff grabbed her chin with his right hand and held her face tightly. 

"Look. This is going to happen. You have no choice. You can squirm, but there are going to be sharp needles near your face. You can sit still like a good girl and get a fancy ring, or you can wind up with a big nasty scar on your face". Jeff let go. Beth stopped squirming. What he said made sense. Her teeth continued to chatter as he placed the needle against her right nostril. This was wrong. She was being violated. She didn't want this thing in her body. She was being held against her will by a strange man. Her two friends had betrayed her into this torture. The needle went through. Another shot of pain zoomed though Beth's body. She started shivering all over. More sweat poured from her armpits. Her scent was heavy in the air. Then the pleasure came. The delirium high. It lasted longer this time. Beth closed her eyes and began to float. Blood was leaving her extremities in the shock. Her face became pale. She could feel the intruders pulsing in her ears and her nose. She began to swoon. She barely noticed as Victoria got up off her stool and began to unbutton her long brown dress. 

When Beth became lucid enough to tell what was going on, her dress was fully open, from neck to hem. You could follow the line of flesh down from her silky neck, past her bra. To her flat stomach. Her white cotton panties. Down the inside of her thigh all the way to her thick socks and brown leather boots. "What are you doing now", cried Beth, awakened to consciousness by the feel of cold air blowing across her almost naked body. 

"You are going to get your belly button done. Just like we did", said Jane. 

"Yeah, it's not our fault if you chose to wear a dress", continued Victoria, sitting back down. Jeff turned back around with a strange instrument in his hand. 

"Don't worry about me. Think of me like your doctor. Beth looked down at her tight virgin navel. Goodbye, she thought. This is the last time I'll see you like this. A tear came to her eye. She was still a little woozy. Her vision was a bit blurred. She could see though that a wet spot had appeared at the front of her panties. She had not recognized it, but her body was getting very excited by the process. It was feeling what she would not allow herself to feel. She was embarrassed and she hoped that no one else would notice. Jeff continued, "This is a clamp". He held up the device. It looked like a small pair of salad tongs, with a small metal loop at each end. "I am going to clamp your belly button with this, and then direct the needle through the loops. That will help me get the piercing straight. You do want it straight don't you? If so, don't wiggle". Beth was too emotionally exhausted to do much resisting. The chemicals her brain had produced were keeping her in an almost dream state. Jeff placed the tongs on her belly button and began moving them around. He marked his target with a pen. Then he clamped down hard and tied the clamp in place with a rubber band. It hurt like hell! Even through the painkillers floating though her blood stream, Beth could feel this. It was like having her navel caught in a mousetrap. It was different from the ear and nose, which was a quick sting. Jeff left the clamp on for almost a minute as he grabbed the needle and made sure everything was straight. "This is a 14 gauge ring", he said". It is standard size for a belly button". He started to give her instructions on the proper care and treatment. Don't wear tight jeans, keep in clean, wash with antiseptic, that sort of thing. The clamp was still attached however, so Beth heard almost none of what he was saying. Blood left her head. She began to feel really faint. He pushed the needle through her body. Not just through a millimeter or two of flesh like her facial piercings, but through a distance maybe five times as thick. The needle completely violated her body. It was not like being penetrated during sex. The vagina is made for that. That is natural. This was different. This was unnatural. Her steel lover was penetrating her in a way that was completely wrong. She became even wetter between her legs at the thought of giving herself up this completely. 

She almost passed out from the experience. She could feel her tongue start to tingle and swell with lack of blood. The room became dark, even though there was a bright light pointed right at her. She saw colours. "OK. Just three more and we're done", said Jeff. 

"Three more! What the hell do you mean three more.", said Beth. She wasn't screaming because she was exhausted. It was more of a mumble. Beth was in her own place now. Jeff grabbed another needle and Jane came to Beth and caressed her forehead. It was covered with sweat. 

"These are going to hurt the worst dear, so get ready. But once you're done you'll thank us". Jane rubbed her shoulder. 

"What are you going to pierce next" said Beth. She couldn't think of anyplace that was left. Jane responded by starting to undo Beth's bra. Beth had chosen to wear one that clasped in the front, so it came off easily. Her breast lay exposed to the bright light of the lamp, her two friends, the cold air of the fan, and the piercer. She looked down. They were barely there anyway. Mostly flat, barely rising above her breastbone. Beth had always wanted to have a full, woman's body, but nothing ever developed. She was surprised to see that her nipples were very hard and erect. Harder than she had ever seen them. Harder than when she went swimming in a cold lake. Harder than when she masturbated about the boys in school. They must have extended an inch from her chest. 

"Well, that is good to see", said Jeff. "I guess we won't need this". He put down the bowl of ice. "The nipples have to be a little erect, or else it won't come out straight. He had another clamp. He placed it on her left nipple and clamped down hard. This hurt a lot. Beth couldn't quite tell if it was worse than the belly button, but it was quite bad. Her tongue got all tingly again. "This is a 12 gauge ring", said Jeff holding up the jewelry. It is a good size for you. It will make those cute nipples of your stick out all day. He placed the tip of the hollow needle against the side of the nipple. "Are you ready?", he said. She nodded in agreement. The steel needle was inserted into the taut flesh of the nipple. It gouges out a 12 gauge hole for the jewelry to fit into. It was a harsh lover. Pain went through the entire left side of her body. Her whole breast felt like it was on fire. And for a long time town, minutes after he had finished threading the intruding surgical steel through. She had never had her nipples played with like this before. She had never even had a boy caress them. Suck on them. This was a new experience. Sweat poured out of every poor in her body. Her vagina felt like it was on fire. She could actually feel the blood vessels down there pulsing. She almost had an orgasm from the pain and the excitement and the euphoria. She came close to losing consciousness. 

Her other nipple begged for similar treatment. If anything it got even more erect. It actually hurt a bit as it stretched toward the needle. Jeff came back with another clamp, but an even bigger needle. It was huge! "This is a 10 gauge needle. It is the biggest we start with. It is for 'rough play'". 




Pierced



"'Rough play'?, what is 'rough play' mean?", said Beth hesitantly. 

"It means when a boy grabs it in his teeth and yanks on it while he's humping you", said Victoria. "It's very erotic". Jeff nodded in agreement, although he would not have put it so bluntly. He clamped down on Beth's last virgin nipple. She was getting used to the pain. It still hurt a lot, but she was becoming more familiar with the idea. She was not shivering anymore, although she was still perspiring. With her arms held above her head she could see the beads of sweat start to form under her arms and proceed to roll down her side. Jeff placed the tip of the gigantic intruder against her nipple. Beth tensed her entire body up. Jeff held her breast down with his left hand. He needed to force the large needle through. It was the first time Beth had ever had a boy grab her like that. She had even been to scared to let any of them touch her through her dress. Jeff began pushing. It took a lot of effort to push the 10-gauge through. It gouged out a lot of flesh. Beth screamed in pain. It was the worst of the whole lot. Then she experienced an orgasm. She had never had one before without touching herself. Wet panties flooded with wetness, and the smell of her sex began to overpower the smell of her sweat. Her two friends looked on in amazement. Neither of them had gotten off when they had the procedure done. Beth bucked her pelvis up in the air as the main wave of pain began to subside. She was breathing very hard. Her whole chest burned. Her whole body burned. She had never felt this way before. Her steel lovers now violated her ears, her nose, her navel, and her breasts. She could feel them pulsing. Pulsing. 

That is two. Jane said three. Beth had no more protrusions left. Did they mean to pierce her tongue? That she wouldn't let them do. It was too inconvenient. "You're not going to pierce my tongue", she said. 

"Who said anything about your tongue", said Victoria. "We're going to get your clitty pierced for you". Both she and Jane giggled. 

"My what?", said Beth. 

"Your clitoris. The little bump at the top of your vagina.", said Jeff matter-of-factly. "It is a standard procedure. It supposedly helps with sexual arousal". 

"You are kidding. That is disgusting", said Beth. Victoria responded by lifting up her short skirt. Her panties were also wet in the front. She pushed the crotch aside to reveal a dark bush of fur, with a small silver glint from a ring hidden deep inside. Beth looked over at Jane. Jane lifted her long flowing skirt to reveal her naked crotch. Jane shaved herself between the legs every day. There was a small silver ring hanging from between her legs too. "Oh my god. No.", exclaimed Beth. She struggled again to get free of the bonds. They held. Victoria walked over to her as Jeff prepared. 

"Don't worry, it feels incredible", said Victoria. She half sat on top of Beth to hold her down. With one hand she moved Beth's panties aside to expose her womanhood to the room. Jeff came back with a clamp and another needle. He maneuvered himself between her legs. 

"Now, this is just a 14 gauge, so it won't be as bad as some of the others". Beth couldn't see it, but her clitoris was engorged with blood and was really sticking out. Despite having no breasts, Beth had a very large clitoris, and sported a full bush of dark hair between her legs. Jeff opened her up with his hands and placed the clamp. No man had ever touched her 'down there' before. Just the slight, incidental brushing of his hands made her have a second orgasm. She held this one in though, and maybe nobody noticed. The clamp was hard, cold steel. She felt it beginning to constrict as Jeff looked for the perfect point. 

"Trust us Beth", said Jane, "You'll love this. It'll make you come so easy". Beth still had her dress up and was playing with her ring. She was such a slut. The clamp bit down hard on her organ. Pain pushed through her thighs. It was like being bitten down there. She had never felt anything like this before. She was always gentle with herself, and her orgasms had some from gentle petting. This was rough. This was painful. This was dirty. No man had even penetrated her vagina before, but now Beth was forced to let a cold, steel needle do the job. Beth prepared to lose her virginity to the hollow metal penis. 

"Are you ready?", said Jeff. Beth nodded. She couldn't see what was going on down there because Victoria was still sitting on her, holding her down. "We'll do it on three OK? Ready. One. Two. Three." With that Jeff forced the metal point through Beth's most private space. The needle gouged out a 14-gauge hole into the flesh of her pleasure center. Severing the skin and stimulating deep nerve endings that had never before felt anything. Clear liquid began coming from Beth's vagina. Sweat ran in rivulets from under her arms and from her hairline. An orgasm rocked her body. Not a normal one. A powerful one. The most powerful she had ever experienced. Then another. Then another. Three in all. Her whole body was on fire. She had been completely violated. Completely used. Everything in her was now exposed. There was nothing secret. Nothing to be shy about any longer. She had been flayed an exposed to the whole world. She screamed with a combination of intense pain and intense pleasure. Her tongue swelled. Her face paled. Colors that never before existed appeared in spots before her eyes. The whole room spun once. Spun twice. Then blackness. 

Beth woke up in Jane's bedroom, under the covers of Jane's bed. She was wearing one of Jane's nightshirts, which left a lot of room. She had no underwear on. She wondered if all that had happened to her was a dream, but when she moved she could feel the little rings throughout her body. There was no real pain, it almost felt like they were clipped on. She moved the covers out of the way and peered down her shirt. Yup, both of her nipples and her navel showed the signs of being violated. She felt between her legs and touched the ring down there. She had a small orgasm immediately. Strange, she thought. She touched again. Another small orgasm. Beth smiled at the thought of her new toy. 

Jane and Victoria walked in. Jane had some juice for Beth. "What happened", she said groggily. 

"You passed out", said Jane, handing her the drink. "Apparently it was too much for you". 

"Jeff drove you to Jane's place", continued Victoria. We put you to bed. You clothes were ruined. You pissed all over yourself when you passed out. And Jeff. And me". 

"We hope that you like your new look", said Jane. She passed Beth a hand mirror. She turned her head from side to side admiring her new ears and nose. It was different. Shocking perhaps. But not bad. Maybe her friends were right. It was time to try something new. 

"We got something else for you", said Jane. 

"Yeah, Jeff phone number. He wants you to call him. He said that you were really cute.", said Victoria. 

Beth got up and out of bed. She was still a bit groggy, and sort of exhausted, but she was OK. Her new piercings were like a shield against her shyness. She felt that she could do or say almost anything now. "I'm going to go home and rest for a bit", said Beth. "Then why don't the three of us go out tonight. Someplace wild where I can show off my new piercings." 

"That's the spirit", said her two friends. 

"And Victoria," 

"Yes Beth" 

"Maybe I could borrow one of your outfits tonight?" 



Pierced



She was nervous as they drove. She didn't know exactly where they were going and that was mostly what was making her nervous. Oh yes, she trusted him, really she did. But he was so cryptic about this trip. He just told her that he loved her and that he had an erotic surprise for her. She desperately wanted to quiz him about his plans, but she bit her tongue rather than question him.

He watched her squirming in her seat as he drove and he smiled to himself. He knew she was dying to ask where they were going and what the surprise was, but he was proud of her for not asking. She was becoming more obedient and submissive day by day. He had to admit that he was a bit nervous about this trip, too. He had certainly never done anything like this before. He hoped that he would be able to carry off his part.

He felt his cock twitch and grow as he thought over all the plans he had made. It had taken several telephone calls to get things arranged exactly the way he wanted. It wasn't going to be cheap, either. However, it was going to be his most daring and erotic adventure with her yet. At least, he hoped so.

She frowned trying to figure out exactly where they were in the city. She didn't know the city very well. This was obviously a trendy part of town. There were coffee shops and chic little boutiques. The area was entirely small businesses catering to a young, hip, urban crowd. That definitely didn't describe her...or her lover and master.

Still, he pulled in and parked at a small lot at the end of a long row of shops. She craned her neck trying to see the signs of all the shops in the row. He parked the car and came around to open her door. She was so pleased by the way that he insisted that she wait for him like that. She felt so loved and protected by him.

He put on a confident smile for her and was rewarded by her smile in return. Granted, it was tentative, but he felt her trust. He led her down the row of shops and smiled as she ogled the fashions in the windows. He stopped in front of his destination and gripped her hand a little more tightly. He watched her eyes widen as she read the lettering on the window, "Sassy Body Art: Original Tattoos and Exotic Piercings."

She looked at him with real fear in her eyes. He leaned over and kissed her softly. He hated to see her fearful. "Baby, it will be okay. I promise. I promise that you will be happy, baby. Don't be afraid, just trust me." She swallowed hard and managed to smile weakly at him. More than anything else, she just wanted to please him. And she was desperately curious about what he had in mind.

He led her into the shop. She was pleased to see that it was well-kept and attractive. She had worried when she read the sign that it would be seedy. There was a glass case of jewelry under a counter and framed artwork on the walls. Behind the glass counter, a long hallway led straight back past several doors on either side.

There were no other customers in the store. A rather burly, broad-shouldered man was behind the counter. Another man was mounting new artwork into frames. Another man was moving some boxes in the hallway. Her lover went up to the counter confidently and gave his name to the man, adding, "I have an appointment."

The man smiled and shook his hand, "Oh yes, we were expecting you." He introduced himself as Ron.

Ron looked her over from top to bottom as if undressing her with his eyes. She felt uncomfortable and moved closer to her lover. She was wearing a very short skirt with no panties, a little baby tee, and sandals. She wished her lover had let her wear a bra or panties. She knew that her nipples were standing out prominently. She didn't meet the man's gaze. She knew that her place was to be demure and submissive.

"Let's get started." said Ron. He gestured the way down the hallway. "Right into room 3, please." He called to one of his coworkers and told him he was going to the back to do a "procedure." She clung tightly to her lover's hand as he led her down the hall. Her lover was very nervous himself as he opened the door to room 3 and led her inside.

The room was clean and sterile like a doctor's examining room. In fact there was an exam table. To her it looked like the exam room at her gynecologist's office, except the table was tilted and curved, more like a chair. There were 2 rolling armless desk chairs, a rolling stool, a counter, a sink, and some cabinets.

Ron entered behind them and talked about her instead of to her. "Okay, get her undressed and in the exam chair so I can see what we are working with."

Startled, she looked at her lover, but he just smiled and winked at her. With sure hands, he pulled her shirt over her head and her skirt down, whisking it all away with her sandals. She stood naked in the middle of the room.

She was rather embarrassed to be naked in public with this man Ron looking at her. But as she lowered her eyes, she could see her lover's pants tented out with a hard erection. That calmed her fears. She knew that she was pleasing him greatly. She stood up a little taller and straighter and smiled at him.

Her lover had held his breath as he undressed her, afraid that she might cry or scream when he exposed her in front of this strange man. He was so aroused at showing her off in public, her nipples hard and erect, her pussy neatly shaven, and her dazzling smile. He was so proud of her and felt the urge to throw her down and fuck her brains out right then and there.

He glanced over at Ron. The man's tongue was nearly hanging out as he looked at his baby. Ron had this grin on his face. At first, her lover just wanted to punch the man's light's out, so fierce was his jealousy. But then he remembered that this man could only look and envy him. He was the only one who was going to fuck her. His cock grew even harder realizing that another man was lusting after what only HE could have.

Ron broke into his thoughts, "Okay, get her up into the chair." She smiled at her lover as he led her to the exam chair. She scooted her ass up onto the end and leaned back. Her lover picked up one leg at a time and placed her feet into the stirrups. She knew her face was red at having her pussy exposed. He took his place beside her and held her hand.

Ron sat on the rolling stool between her legs and pushed the stirrups farther apart until her pussy was spread lewdly in front of him. He didn't touch her, but leaned in close to examine her folds. Her face burned with embarrassment. Her lover squeezed her hand to reassure her. Despite her embarrassment, she was highly aroused. She harbored secret exhibitionist tendencies and having her pussy spread wide in front of a stranger was titillating. She would be terrified if not for having her lover here to protect her. She knew he would let no harm come to her.

For a moment she felt Ron's warm breath on her pussy as he leaned in close. Her heart raced in fear. Was her lover actually going to let his man have his way with her??? She looked up at him fearfully and saw him scowl. She was afraid that he was going to hit Ron for a minute, but then Ron leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Okay, Mr. Barry, I have the notes from our phone conversation. I wrote down exactly what you want done. Physically, I see no problems. All we have to do is negotiate a price."

Her lover raised his eyebrows, "But you already quoted me a price on the phone."

Ron smiled, "Well, yes, but that price is negotiable."

"Oh? How so?" said her lover.

"Well," said Ron, "This is a nice piece of ass. Let me keep her overnight and play with her. You can pick her up tomorrow and the procedure will be absolutely free." She gasped in horror and looked up at her lover. She was even more terrified when he looked as if he were considering the offer.

In actuality, he was horrified at the thought of leaving his baby with this hulking leering man. Still, he was enjoying her discomfort and testing her trust. After a moment's hesitation he replied, "No, I can't do that, Ron."

Ron counter-offered, "Okay, just let me fuck her now and the procedure will be free. All you have to pay for is the materials."

Once again he hesitated, then replied, "No, sorry Ron, she is all mine to fuck."

Ron shook his head. "Okay, okay, but how about a 50% discount on labor if she sucks my cock."

Her lover still shook his head, "No...sorry."

Ron sighed and seemed to give up. "Okay, let me tell what has to be done and we can get started. You realize that she has to be fully aroused for this procedure. I need her clit swollen to its fullest. However, you can't let her reach orgasm because the swelling will subside too soon. So, you have to arouse her and keep her on the edge of orgasm while I do the piercing."

The words roared in her ears, PIERCING! What was her lover going to have pierced! Surely not her clit! And yet, why else would she need to have her clit swollen before "the procedure." She bit her lip and felt hot tears flood her eyes. She knew that her lover had admired other women's piercings in porn pictures. She knew that he was obsessed with making her completely his. She was afraid of the pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He leaned over and kissed away her tears as Ron watched. He crooned to her, "It's okay, baby, just trust me. This will be all right. You know that I am only going to do what is best for you, right?" She nodded her head. "No tears then, baby." He straightened up and told Ron that he understood.

Ron went on. "And you will have to arouse her with your fingers or a toy. I can't have any semen or saliva on her genitals."

Again her lover nodded. He had a plan that would guarantee her arousal without saliva or semen. He had discussed all of this with Ron ahead of time, but he had asked Ron to repeat it for her benefit.

Ron continued, "And you know that she has to be completely still during the procedure. You have requested that we not use any local anesthesia during the procedure. I have no problem with that. We'll go with the plan we discussed for keeping her still." Ron grinned. "I have one last offer for you, Mr. Barry. Let my staff and I watch you arouse her and let my assistants watch the piercing and I'll give you a 10% discount. I have an assistant who has never done one of these and he needs to watch. Usually, we give the couple privacy for the arousal, but you indicated that it wasn't necessary."

Her lover nodded, "Now THAT I will agree to, everyone can watch, no problem." In spite of her embarrassment, she was extremely aroused at the thought of everyone watching.

Ron called to his staff to put out the "Gone to Lunch" sign, lock the door, and come on back to watch and learn. Within 2 minutes, both other guys were in the small room. Ron rolled back up to her crotch and snapped on latex gloves.

The two new guys leaned over her as Ron's fingers gently handled her pussy. "Okay, guys, this lady is here to have her clitoral hood pierced." Instantly, a bit of relief washed over her as she realized that her lover didn't intend to have her actual clit pierced.

Ron was going on, "She has rather long inner labia that will also be pierced with small gold rings. Mr. Barry will arouse her before we begin so that her clit is fully swollen. That will insure that the piercing does not interfere with her arousal in the future. If I pierced the hood while she was not aroused, then the piercing might interfere with her clit swelling later and cause her pain. Now, some guys want that, but not this time. Mr. Barry will also be the one to hold her while I do the piercing. Remember, I told you about the 'technique' that he plans to use."

She raised her head and looked at the men around the room and saw all of their trousers tented out. She felt her arousal already growing. Ron ran a gloved finger down her wet open slit. "Shouldn't be any problem to get her aroused. I think she likes all of this attention." Ron grinned lewdly. "Okay, Mr. Barry, we'll wait right here until you have her ready and still."

Her lover pulled her up and pulled her feet out of the stirrups. She sat up straight and he helped her off the table. He sat down in an armless chair across from their audience. He guided her to stand in-between his legs. He buried his face into her soft flat belly, slid his hands up to cup her breasts. He lingered there for a minute fingering her hard tight nipples. Then he let his hands slide up to her shoulders and push down slightly.

She knew that signal well. She quickly knelt between his legs. He cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. "Baby, you know you have been a naughty girl today."

She barely whispered, "Yes sir."

He went on, "Baby, I am going to have to spank you for letting your trust in me slip. Those were tears of fear, even though you knew that I was here with you. I also saw you blush in embarrassment when I let other men look at your body. Baby, you know that I plan to show you off, that I am proud of your body. I want you to be proud, too. But most of all, Baby, I want your entire focus to be on pleasing me. Instead of thinking about what would please me, you were selfishly focused on yourself. You let me down a little today."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She was ashamed of disappointing him.

He hastened on, "Now Baby, I AM proud of you for not trying to stop me and for not saying anything. So, your spanking won't be too bad." Her eyes tried not to betray her shock at his intention to spank her in front of an audience. "Baby, take out my cock." She hurried to unzip his pants. Without any underwear, his cock sprang up, thick and hard and oozing at the tip. She looked at it longingly. He chuckled, "Yes baby, you may have a taste."

She dove in licking and sucking his cock, one hand grasping it by the base. Her other hand scooped under his balls to caress them. He leaned back to enjoy the sight and feel. His heart swelled with pride as he watched the other men in the room rubbing the bulges in their pants. One by one, they opened their trousers to let their hard swollen cocks free. Each man stroked his own stiff cock.

He dared not let her go on too long. Cumming was not in his plan...not just yet. He gave himself up to the pleasure for a moment longer before he pulled her reluctantly off of his cock. She left her task equally reluctantly, her tongue trying to reach for one more drop of precum. "Baby, it's time for your spanking now. Lay across my lap." She lay across his lap and he swiveled his chair so that her shapely ass was facing their audience. "Spread your legs, Baby." He nudged her legs far apart and ran his hands slowly over her cool white asscheeks.

One of the men in the room spoke up, "Damn, that's a fine ass."

Her lover smiled and spoke without taking his eyes off of her ass. "Wait until you see it red and glowing. It's even prettier then." He let his fingers trail down the crack of her ass to her dripping pussy. "Oh Baby, that clit is already swollen, isn't it? Let's just make sure it swells ALL the way."

He brought his hand up and began to pat her ass, alternating with rubbing. She looked back and for the first time realized that the other 3 men in the room where stroking their cocks. She moaned in her arousal. Slowly, he began to spank her harder. Her ass began to turn pink. It happened so gradually that she didn't feel any real pain, just intense arousal. The sting of his smacks intensified her desire, the tingle in her pussy, and the swelling of her clit.

Between smacks he caressed her wet pussy lips and let his index finger slide down to her clit, it was hard and throbbing and so swollen. He decided it was time to get more serious and began to rain harder slaps down on her ass. Then he let a blow strike her sensitive pussy.

She raised her head and yelped, then let her head drop and moaned. The youngest guy in the room could no longer hold back. Seeing her pussy slapped drove him over the edge. Cum spurted from his cock and he slumped against the wall as it flowed down over the shaft. The other guys were pumping their cock furiously and staring at his baby's ass and pussy.

His blows became harder with one landing on her pussy every now and then. He paused to feel of her clit and found it more swollen than he could ever remember. He was desperately trying to ignore his stiff cock pushing into her soft belly. He could feel the slippery tip smearing precum all over her. He drove that thought from his head and went back to the task at hand. Harder blows rained down on her hot ass which had begun to glow red. He let every third blow land on her pussy.

She was moaning now, her ass rising up to meet every blow. He spanked her like a man possessed. The second assistant across the room began to spurt cum and staggered back into a chair, panting, eyes still transfixed on the red ass in front of him. Her lover didn't know how much longer he could ignore the ache in his balls. He desperately needed to be buried inside his baby.

She was moaning louder now, tears flowing. For quite a few blows he didn't let up. She began to babble, "Darling, darling, darling..."

Without stopping his smacking, he asked, "What baby? What do you need?"

She went limp on his lap and burst out "RED!"

He knew that he had given her all that she could take. He rubbed his hand over her ass, so hot and red. He leaned over and looked between her widely spread legs. Her pussy was cherry red and her clit was protruding from its hood. He could see it pulse with every beat of her heart.

She raised her head and looked over her shoulder at him, "Fuck me, please, fuck me, darling! Please fuck me! I NEED to be fucked! Please put your stiff dick in me and fuck me!"

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Her words had finally put Ron over the edge. He briefly watched Ron's cum shoot into the air, then turned back to her. "Oh yes, baby, I intend to fuck you."

He reached to the counter beside him and picked up a bottle of lubricant. She hadn't seen him put it there and briefly wondered where it came from. But all other thoughts were driven from her head as she felt the cold lubricant dripped onto her tightly clenched asshole. She moaned.

His finger probed her asshole, spreading the lubricant and loosening her up. "Baby, relax that ass for me. I need to feel my cock inside that hot ass. C'mon baby, let me in, let me make your ass slippery for my thick cock." He slowly twisted his finger in her asshole to spread the lubricant all the way around. With his other hand, he dribbled a few more drops onto her.

He began to fuck his finger in and out of her tight asshole. He dribbled a bit more lubricant and let a second finger slide inside. He was mesmerized by the sight of his fingers sliding in and out of her ass. He watched the sphincter stretch to accommodate his fingers, but it was as tight as a vice. He fucked his two fingers in and out a few times. His cock was throbbing intensely. He realized that she was mumbling something. "What did you say, baby?"

She lifted her head, "PLEASE fuck me, darling!"

He grinned and let a last couple of drops of lubricant drip onto her asshole. He was pleased to see when he removed his fingers that her ass didn't clench back shut as tightly.

He urged her up and as she was getting to her feet, he quickly rubbed a gob of lubricant down the shaft of his cock. He hastily wiped his hand on a paper towel from a dispenser on the wall, fortunately within easy reach. His baby was practically in a trance, her arousal at an all-time high. He knew that the spanking would do this to her. At this point she would do absolutely anything he wanted without question or embarrassment. He grasped her hips and turned her around with her back to him, her face to the three guys a few feet away across the small room.

His cock pointed straight up in his lap. He slowly lowered her red ass down until the tip of his cock was touching it. He put one hand on her hip and adjusted her stance until his cock was perfectly aligned with her asshole. He grasped the shaft of his cock with one hand and urged her down with his other hand on her hip. 




Pierced



At first, her asshole tried to clench against the invasion of his thick cock, but he persisted and he felt it finally give way as she pressed her weight against his cock. Inch by inch, she slid down, moaning and whimpering. He encouraged her, "Yes baby, open up that ass for my hard cock. Take it all in, baby. You know you can take it all. You know your ass needs fucking. You know you want this." He was fascinated by the sight of his cock sliding into her ass. The skin around her asshole stretched so taut that it turned white. He wondered at its ability to stretch around his swollen cock without splitting. He wondered why she didn't scream in pain whenever he fucked her with his thick cock. Then he remembered what a powerful anesthesia her arousal was. At this moment she could not feel any pain.

Finally, she slid the last inch until his cock was completely embedded inside her. She was sitting on his lap, her back to him, impaled by his cock in her ass. He gritted his teeth and willed his ejaculation away for the moment. He reached around her and pulled her legs up over his, so that her legs were on the outside of his. Then he spread his legs until hers were spread as widely as possible.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, a hand covering each breast, his fingers on her hard nipples. He glanced across at Ron and nodded. Ron had recovered from his ejaculation and tucked his limp cock back into his pants. He quickly snapped on fresh latex gloves and rolled his chair forward, a tray of sterile implements on his lap.

Her head was thrown back and resting on her lover's shoulder. Her ass muscles were squeezing his cock, her arms limply by her sides. Her lover spoke in her ear, "Baby, I think it will be sooo sexy to see you pierced. I'm going to let Ron pierce you now. Do you want that, baby?"

Her head rolled slightly and she murmured, "Yes, darling, I want that. I want anything you want."

He nodded at Ron again. Ron delicately pulled the hood up from her swollen throbbing clit and quickly punched the needle through. Her lover held her tightly, afraid that she might jerk, even though she couldn't really move much with his thick dick up her ass. But he was surprised when she didn't jerk, but just moaned and squeezed his cock even tighter with the muscles of her ass.

She began to beg him, eyes closed, head still back on his shoulder, "Please make me cum, darling, please let me cum!"

Ron was grinning, awed by the sight of how her tiny clit had swollen and reddened. Her lover and Ron both knew that she was teetering on the edge of orgasm. Ron was careful not to touch her clit any more than absolutely necessary. The needle slid through the slack skin, dragging a gold bar through the new opening.

Her lover spoke in her ear, "Not yet, baby, let's get that pussy all decorated first. You are NOT allowed to cum yet, baby. Be a good girl and wait. Just concentrate on my cock up your ass."

She moaned and rolled her head and began rhymically squeezing his cock. Ron could see the sphincter contracting and releasing. He felt his own cock growing again.

He turned to gesture his assistants closer to see his work, but both of them were leaning against the wall, cocks in hand again. Sighing, Ron picked up new implements and began on her pussy lips. First he gently pulled them both out together and carefully marked each side. He wanted them to be even. Then one at a time, he pulled the lips out to pierce them.

As the needle slid easily through the first inner lip, she moaned and cried out, "Oh darling, I need to CUM so badly, please???"

Desperately trying to hold his own orgasm against her squeezing, her lover gritted his teeth and managed to growl softly, "No baby, not yet, soon I promise, soon, but not yet."

Ron pulled out the other inner lip and deftly pushed the needle through it. She moaned and begged more desperately, "OH PLEASE, DARLING, PLEASE LET ME CUM!!!" Ron knew she was so close that he needed to work fast. His own cock was throbbing with desperation.

Her lover managed to calm her down again, just barely before she slipped over the edge of orgasm. "Focus on my cock, baby, you know that is your first priority." He wanted to tell her to wait until HE came, but his own control was so tenuous that he was afraid he would spurt prematurely.

Ron adjusted his cock in his pants. He vowed to free it and join his coworkers in masturbating again as soon as he was finished. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his staff panting, rubbing their cocks up and down, and staring wide-eyed at the erotic sight before them. Ron had to admit that this was the most erotic piercing he had ever done. Never before had he pierced a woman impaled on a cock.

Deftly, he slipped the tiny gold rings into place, first one and then the other. He realized he was sweating as he rolled his chair back and nodded to her lover. Ron whipped his cock out, perilously close to cumming in his pants. Her lover relaxed a tiny bit and snaked his hand around to her obscenely spread crotch. He fingered the gold bar through the hood of her clit and then the tiny gold rings dangling from her pussy lips.

Smiling with satisfaction, he spoke in her ear again, "Okay, baby, when you make ME cum, the you can cum with me." Held tightly on his lap, she squirmed and squeezed. He rubbed his finger over her wet slit to lubricate it, then planted it squarely over her throbbing clit.

She cried out, "Darling, please fill me! Please shoot a load of hot cum deep into my ass!" She squeezed and bounced as she spoke.

For one last desperate second he held out, feeling the hot slippery vice massaging his rigid cock. Then with a warning, "Yes, baby, I'm gonna fill you up! I'M CUMMING!" He began to erupt.

His body jerked as each stream of thick cum pumped into her ass. She was bucking wildly on his lap, engrossed in her own orgasm. She was screaming his name and nearly sobbing with release. He managed to keep his finger pressing and rubbing her clit, his other hand around her waist holding her tightly. He didn't let up on rubbing her throbbing clit until she collapsed back against his chest, panting and crying.

He held her tightly still, his free hand caressing her, soothing her. He kissed her softly on the neck and murmured how very much he loved her. Relaxed from the release she had craved so badly, she opened her eyes. She could feel his cock shrinking inside her ass. She picked up her head and giggled. He followed her gaze to where the 3 men were, cocks in hand. Their hands were covered in sticky gooey cum.

He gently bit her earlobe and whispered. "Oh baby, look at what you did to those men! I think you have earned yourself another spanking tonight!" She lifted her eyebrows and smiled at the thought. He lifted her carefully up and they both paused while they felt his limp slippery cock slide out of her ass.

He stood up and bent her over the chair, ass toward the men watching. He told her to spread her legs. Her own cum ran in rivulets down the insides of her thighs. He parted her asscheeks and they all watched fascinated as gobs of thick white cum oozed from her asshole which gaped slightly from the fucking. He rubbed his hands over her still-red warm ass. He glanced at the men leering at her. "Now, that, gentlemen, is how a woman's ass should look."

He picked up her clothes and began to help her redress. The extra guys, realizing the show was over, returned to their work. Ron mumbled, "I'll meet you at the counter." and he left.

Before her lover let her put on her skirt, he stood her in front of the mirror that was on back of the door and spread her legs to look at the piercings. "How do you like it, baby." he asked.

She blushed. "I think it is pretty, but mostly I am glad that it pleases you, darling."

He pulled up her skirt and she slid her feet into her sandals. He hugged her tightly, "I love you so much, baby."

"And I love you, my darling." she replied.

He led her out to the counter to pay their bill. Her ass and thighs were still wet with cum, but she knew that he never let her wipe it off and he hadn't given her time to massage it in. The men worked halfheartedly, but stopped when she appeared. They watched her ass, barely covered by the skirt and watched the cum still trickling down her legs.

Ron pushed an invoice over the counter. Her lover pulled out his wallet as he looked over the bill. "Ron, this is more of a discount than we agreed on!" he exclaimed.

Ron smiled slowly. "Well, Mr. Barry, that was quite a show. The guys and I enjoyed it far too much to charge you what we agreed on." Her lover smiled, paid the bill, and left a generous tip.

"Come again, soon!" called Ron as they went out the door.

Her lover grinned, "Oh yes, I will certainly be cumming again...VERY soon!"



Pierced



I had thought about getting it done for a long time. I was nervous, but I knew that if I told anyone, they'd easily talk me out of it. So I decided I was going to do it for me, because I wanted it.

I'm a fairly average girl. I'm about five foot seven, boobs approximately a C cup, slim but at least I have hips. Long dark wavy hair, brown eyes. Nothing special. So doing this was a big step for me.

I called the place the day before to make my appointment. I was going to have the studio's leading lady, Diana, do it. They told me that she was one of the best. Three o'clock. 

I was counting down the hours.

Three o'clock came around, and before I knew it, I was sitting in the studio. This was it; I was going to get pierced!

I looked around; the walls were covered in pictures of people with lips, noses, ears, belly buttons and all manner of other places pierced.

But mine was a little more explicit. I had researched it, thought about and decided that I wanted my clit hood pierced. It was going to sit right on my clit, and – fingers crossed – was going to feel so good. I wasn't in a relationship, but I knew how to have a good time by myself. 

I sat on the plastic waiting chairs, excited to meet Diana. Now that the time was actually here, I definitely didn't want to back out. This was a risk I was glad to be taking.

I looked up to see a tall man walking towards me. He was gorgeous. He had a shaved head, tattoos covering his arms and chest (I could see them poking out from under his sleeveless shirt), and he had piercings round his ears. He was the sort of guy I am attracted to, but knowing my luck, he was in a relationship with a far more adventurous girl than me.

I expected him to walk straight past me, so when he stopped right in my eye line, I was a little taken aback.

"Hi, are you Jodi?" His voice was deep and very sexy. 

"Erm yeah."

"You're here to get your clit hood pierced, right?" I nodded, surely blushing slightly. He must have seen it; it felt like my face was on fire!

"Diana's out sick today, so she can't do the piercing." 

"Oh," I stood up to leave.

"But, if you're okay with it, I'm offering to do it in her place. We have to give you the option, some women feel a bit uncomfortable with a man doing it. So..."

"Yeah!" Too enthusiastic, I thought. "That would be fine."

He asked me to follow him. Crude as the thought may be, I was excited to have this man between my legs, regardless of his true intentions of being there.

He took me into a private room with a leather reclining seat dead in the centre, facing away from the door. 

"If you could take of your trousers and underwear, and lay on the chair. Just make yourself comfortable." He turned away to get the equipment he needed whilst I undressed. He asked me to bend my knees, and spread them apart after placing a paper towel across my abdomen.

"Strictly speaking, women are supposed to pierce this area, but I wanted to know everything about piercings. We think it's only fair to give clients a choice if Diana isn't available." He spoke as though trying to reassure me, not that I needed it. I knew I was doing the right thing.

He asked me to take a deep breath, and let it out when he said so. As I exhaled, and began my normal breathing routine again, he moved away and told me it was all over. All I felt was a tiny prickle, and I didn't even think that was anything more than getting the equipment in the right place. It hurt more to get my ears pierced!

He passed me a mirror, and said he'd step outside for five minutes to let me have a look and reassemble myself.

When he came back in the room, he asked what I thought.

"I love it!" I gushed. "Thank you"

I followed him out of the room, towards the front desk. I paid my money, and he told me to come back for a check up in six weeks.

"Ask for Drake. I'll want to know what you think of it in six weeks time."

Six weeks came around so soon. But I was excited about seeing Drake. Even if there was a strong possibility that he was taken. 

After the initial soreness was gone, I had the best time with the piercing. Just touching it in the right way sent shivers up my body.

I was back at the piercing studio, sitting in the same waiting room chair as I had six weeks previously. I saw Drake exiting the back room, finish up with a client at the front desk, the walk with them to the front door. He turned to look at me as he switched the sign to 'closed'.

"You're the last client of the day, everyone else has gone home. I hope you don't mind."

His voice sent chills across my body. Before I could respond, he spoke again.

"Come on; let's see how well you are healing." He spoke with a smile.

He instructed me to remove the clothes covering my lower body, but unlike last time, he didn't turn away. I felt a little odd, but decided to make a subtle show out of it.

I laid myself down on the chair again and opened my legs, secretly hoping he would take the interpretation in a more pleasurable way. Unfortunately, he pulled on some gloves and poked and prodded the piercing. And it felt so good; I couldn't help but shudder.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it feels really good," I looked straight into his eyes as I spoke, and I was sure I saw a smile as he dipped his head to carry on checking my clit.

"Well," he spoke finally. "Everything here looks good."

I went to move. He gently placed one hand on my pelvis, keeping me in place. "There are just a few more things I want to check." I was definitely sure I saw a smile this time.

He stood straight and took my leg into his hands. He kissed the top of my foot once, and ran both hands up either side of my leg. As his hand moved further up my inner thigh, delicately brushing the delicate skin, I couldn't help but react. I felt my pussy become slightly wet, longing for something I wasn't sure was going to happen. As his hand reached the top of my leg, his hand moved over my mound, his palm gently brushing my clit, and moving the piercing ever so slightly. I gasped at the sudden sensation. As much as the research I'd done said the extra sensations would become familiar over the first few weeks, that certainly wasn't the case for me. I was still unaccustomed to the feeling.

"What are you....?"

"Shhhhhh" was his only response.

By now he had moved so he could easily access my now moist pussy. His teasing and my imagination combined had me very excited. He ran his hands over my hips pushing my top up as far as he could reach. 

"Take the rest of your clothes off." He demanded me to do so, but something in the way he spoke made me feel very comfortable. I sat up, and pulled the top off over my head. I then proceeded to unclasp my bra. As soon as the air touched my nipples, I felt them harden, and I saw his eyes widen in approval. I guessed he liked what he saw.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I had this gorgeous guy between my legs, appreciatively ogling my body, and a sensitive clit piercing as the cherry on top! 

I laid back and he reached up with one and began playing with my nipple. I was extremely sensitive there, so every tweak and pull made me moan in pleasure. I was really beginning to enjoy the nipple play when he pulled away. I foolishly made a whimper at the loss of his expert hand.

"Oh, Jodi, it's gonna get so much better than that."

Now he turned his attention back to my pussy. It wasn't completely shaven, but I'd never been one for that. Drake didn't seem to mind though, as he kissed the insides of my thighs, each in turn, working his way to his target. When he had finished teasing the soft skin, his kissed each of my lips, and gently grazed his tongue across my wet slit.

"Mmmmm," he moaned in approval. "Someone's definitely excited."

"Yes! Please, Drake. Do...... something!"

He laughed, and I felt his delicate fingers spread my lips open to reveal what I had in store.

"Oh, Jodi. That looks so good. You look so good."

He took his warm tongue and ran it from bottom to top, making me shudder as he ran his tongue over the piercing. 

"Drake......." I moaned.

He took the top of the barbell between his teeth, and gently pulled up. The ball under my hood pressed onto my clit. He continued to gently pull and release, giving me a break between every sensation. By this point I was writhing on the chair, trying to heighten the pleasure enough to bring myself to orgasm. But Drake wasn't allowing that. He put his hands on my hips keeping me still as he played with the piercing.

Eventually, he let it drop, and looked over my mound at me. "What do you want Jodi?"

"You.... I want you to....."

"To what?"

"Fuck me, please!"

"That'll come soon, Jodi. But first...."

He plunged his tongue deep into me, and slowly began thrusting it in and out. Removing his tongue, he trailed back up to my clit, this time paying attention to it, instead of the piercing. Expertly, he bean rubbing my clit until I felt my orgasm building up. As I arched my back in preparation, he drove two fingers into my moist cunt. As he drove them in and out, he kept at teasing my clit. Then he added another finger. That sent me over the edge. Normally, I'm quite a quiet girl, but when I came, I let out a loud moan.

As he pulled his fingers out of me, I was gasping for air. "Do you still want me to fuck you Jodi? Or are you content?"

"No, I want you inside me!"

He chuckled and stood, pulling his shirt over his head. I saw his tattoos in all their glory, and they were amazing. But more amazing than that was the muscle definition. He was stunning.

"You want me Jodi, come get me." He spoke with such confidence that I couldn't resist. I scrambled off the chair and knelt at his feet. I reached for the button and zip on his jeans, and almost ripped them open in my haste. I pulled his jeans down (he went commando, much to my delight) and freed his sizable member. I was no good at guessing sizes, but I was pretty damn sure I was gonna have some fun with this. 

I wrapped my hand round the base of his hard cock, and ran my tongue from my fist to the head. Now it was his turn to moan. I put my lips on his head, and took it just into my mouth. I slid my tongue around, tasting his skin. Soon, I was the one in need of more, and I sunk his cock straight into my mouth as far as I could. I sucked hard, and used my tongue to tease his shaft.

Just as I was getting into it, he grabbed my hair, and pulled my head back. Without saying a word, he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to stand. He planted a hard, passionate kiss on my lips, and I could feel his hard member pushing against my piercing. 

He broke the kiss and pushed me until I fell back on the seat. He opened my legs, and situated himself between them. 

"Now! Please!"

He took himself in his hand, and guided himself into my opening. He slid in easily. He began to set a pace, and when he had, he took one of my legs and wrapped it round his waist. Instinctively, I wrapped my other leg around him, and this allowed him to go deeper.

"Harder, please! Harder!"

He did as I demanded. Drake bent his head down and took my right nipple into his mouth. He bit down and I gasped from the sudden shock of it. It just added to my pleasure.

He kept his fast pace, and I felt myself getting closer. 

"Jodi, I'm gonna cum. Are you ready?"

"YES!" I all but screamed at him. To prove I was, I took my hands to his back, and dug my nails in hard enough to draw blood.

He gave a few final stokes and threw his head back as my muscles began to clamp down. We came together, and as the sensations subsided he let himself fall down on me.

He was still inside me when he wrapped his arms around me. I felt him go limp and he pulled out.

"Wow," was all I could manage.

"You're telling me! I'm glad you came back for check up. You've been on my mind since I pierced you."

I smiled. "The piercing has been a great aid. You've been on my mind to. But I never thought that anything like this would happen. I assumed you had a girlfriend."

"Oh, I do." He spoke as though it were nothing.

"WHAT!?" I tried to pull away, but he kept a firm grip on me.

"Don't worry about it. She'll love to hear about this. She's very adventurous."

"Oh."

"I should introduce you two. I'm sure she'll then understand my need to fuck you."

I smiled. The idea that his girlfriend enjoyed sharing him turned me on.

"I should go. You need to close up. Properly this time."

"Jodi, just one more thing." He spoke as I was pulling on my clothes.

"In my professional opinion, I think you need to come back for some more check-ups. Same time next week?"

He had a gorgeous sly smile on his face.

"Same time next week." I agreed. And I walked out of the back room, full well realising I left my panties lying with his clothes.



Pierced



I don't know the physical or perhaps maybe even the physiological reasons why but, ever since I got my left nipple pierced three months ago, I am non-stop horny. It seems I've developed an almost constant ache and need for sex. My mind thinks about cuming every waking and even sleeping moment. Yes, I even dream about sex.

Without consciously doing it, I often suddenly realize that my hands have migrated their way toward my tits and pussy as if they have a mind of their own. Sometimes I'm almost cuming before I take notice to what I've done to myself. 

My nipples are almost always hard now and are so much more sensitive too. Even the nipple I didn't pierce. I thought I'd be conservative and pierce just the one nipple first to make sure I was OK with the whole thing.

I only pierced my nipple as a surprise birthday present for my boyfriend. I never would have done it for myself. He's much more kinkier than me but I willing go along with most any thing he comes up with. I have to admit, it's fun and I get off pleasing him.

For instance, he loves to tie me to my bed and tease me senseless for hours using dildos and vibrators on me. For some reason he's really into this. He likes to pretend he's my master and I like letting him think so.

One time he begged me to wear a butterfly vibrator inside my panties at his best friend's wedding reception. It had a remote control that he kept with him. We were there for over six hours and he kept teasing me with it the whole time. A couple of times I had to walk away from conversations and go to the ladies room where I could cum in private. 

He's always asking me to suck his cock while he is driving too. I think he really gets off on the possibility that someone might see him getting his cocked sucked by a hot chick. I don't care because I love sucking cock anyway. Whether I'm stroking a hard cock between my hands or sucking on it between my lips, the feeling of cock is too incredible for words.

I love the way a nice hard cock will begin to twitch, throb and pulse as I work it. I especially love the contrast between steely hard shaft of a cock and its soft spongy head. That in itself gets me wet.

Aside from cuming, the second most amazing sensation I experience is that of a man spurting his load inside my mouth. I get such a rush from it that I wish it wouldn't stop and keep sucking until that once beautiful hard cock falls limp inside my mouth.

My man loves my ass and he likes to lick both of my holes when he's eating me out. In this respect alone, I have found the perfect man because he just loves to eat my pussy.

He likes to stay down there between my legs licking and sucking me to orgasm after orgasm until I'm so sensitive and have cum completely out of my mind that I have to push his head off of me. Then he finally stuffs me with his cock and fucks my hole real hard and fast until he cums. 

Sometimes instead of cuming inside me, he likes to pull his cock out and cum all over my tits and stomach. I love this too as I take his hot creamy load and rub it into my skin like lotion and then lick my fingers clean. I know that it really gets him off.

I can't tell you how many times he's asked to fuck my ass. Sometimes when we're fucking, he'll poke at my butt-hole with his cock as if he mistakenly keeps missing my pussy. I wasn't born yesterday. He can do anything he wants to my body, but ass fucking is out of the question. At least until we're married. Then I'll consider it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm basically a submissive and love being used in just about any other the way my man sees fit. That's how I get off. Until recently, that's the way its been and that's the way I liked it.

Sure I masturbate but when I'm in a relationship, I usually only have sex when my man initiates it. But right after I had my nipple pierced, I get so horny all on my own and try to seek out sexual release. It had always been gratifying enough for me to just lie back and let someone use me for their pleasure. Now, I can't stop thinking about my pleasure.

It's a constant drive. I need to work at it. I feel like I'm a heroin addict. Constantly thinking about and working on the next high. Except in my case, or addiction, instead of thinking about my next high, I'm constantly thinking about my next orgasm. Before the piercing, I was more than content to just being sexually used at someone else's discretion. Now, I'm the craver. I need to get off when I want to. When I need to.

The other day, I took a vacation day and stayed home from work. I never got out of bed. I just kept masturbating and fucking myself silly with every toy in the box until I ran out of ideas of how I could abuse myself further.

I actually felt a little scared at one point because, I couldn't stop cuming. I kept telling myself just one more. After I came about a dozen times, I finally fell asleep only to awake about two hours later to start right back up at it again vibrating my clit and fucking my pussy. 

By late in the afternoon, I was a soaking wet mess but finally satisfied enough to fall asleep until the next morning. I wish I kept count because, the number of orgasms I had that day must have been a world record. Thank god my clit and pussy were so sore when I woke up the next morning because I'm afraid I might have repeated that whole wanton episode all over again.

I love all the orgasms I mean, who wouldn't but at the same time it does scare me a little. I can't help but question, was I more normal before my piercing or the way I am now? I was thinking about having the hood of my clit pierced. Good thing I didn't huh? 

I'm hoping this horny all the time business slowly subsides and I return to the sex drive I had before. But what if it doesn't? What should I do? Take the piercing out? See a psychiatrist? Or just let go and live like this? What do you think?



Pierced



I moaned softly as the dark-haired man ran his tongue over my nipple and then over it again, chills running down my spine at the feel of the hard, round metal stud rubbing on my nipple. I was thinking hard, although having a hard time organizing my thoughts—Steve was his name, I thought.

I had met up with him in the bar downstairs. I don't know what had drawn me here. I'd carried the card for the tattoo parlor with the handwritten address of the bar downstairs around with me for nearly a week before I'd come here. It was just general curiosity nagging at me. Once in the bar, when I saw him again, it was the stud in his tongue that won me over—that had me simply getting up from the bar stool and following him up the stairs at the back of the dark, smoke- and men-filled room. This was something I'd never done before. Still curious, I also felt the danger and arousal of it.

* * * *

It had been a busy Saturday afternoon at the airport when I first saw him—busy enough that he was mostly a blur in my memory other than that nagging curiosity he surfaced at the back of my mind. I was working security, and Fred Stringfellow, Wanda Miller, and I were on the metal-detection wands. If someone set the tunnel machine off, they were handed off to us and we'd run the wand over the passenger and make sure they weren't packing anything we didn't want on a plane.

This young, dark-complexioned guy wearing a sports jacket over a clean, white polo shirt and well-pressed khakis, his head covered with a reversed baseball cap, set the tunnel machine off like the 4th of July fireworks on the Hudson, and Fred and I took him aside.

"Sorry," I said as I waved the wand down his chest to his thighs and heard the counter go off like a swarm of angry locusts. "I'm afraid you'll have to go over to that booth over there, we'll have to check this out more closely."

"No problem," he said to me, with a big smile. "I'd be happy to go into the booth with you and show you what I got," he said.

I let that slide, although I reddened up a bit. I was sure he couldn't tell just like that that I liked men—although he looked like a great specimen of one. The passengers were usually too nervous to wisecrack like that. This was one cool customer.

Fred cut in at that point. I don't think he heard what the guy had said—but another man had set off the tunnel machine and one of us had to see to that. "I'll take this guy," Fred said. "You can get that one."

When Fred and the passenger came out of the booth, the passenger was still smiling a secret smile, but Fred looked a little flustered.

The guy went on to the bin at the end of the bag security belt, and I saw him take out his wallet and a pen and scribble something on a card. And then he was at my elbow, smiling, and he handed me the card.

"If you want to know what the other guy found out, go to this bar," he said. "I've written the address on the back of this card. I would have rather shown you than him. You're hot. I'll be back in town on Tuesday." And then he laughed and walked off.

And we were so busy afterward that I forgot to say anything to Fred about it. But the card burned a hole in my pocket for the rest of the week, and the more I felt it when I put my hand in my pocket, the more curious I became. Fred had gone off on vacation after that work shift, so I couldn't ask him. The address was in a part of town I'd never been to. And I meant to go down there one of these nights anyway. I'd heard it was a good area to cruise in, although I hadn't done a whole lot of that. And it came Friday night and I was bored and didn't have anything better to do.

* * * *

It was the first thing I noticed about him when he moved into the stool next to me at the bar. His self-assurance. He stubbed a cigarette out in an ashtray in front of me before ordering a beer over his shoulder from the barkeep and then turned sideways toward me. One hand went to the back of my barstool, the heel of his hand warm against my tailbone. The forearm of his other arm laid across the rim of the bar between me and my drink, and he was leaning in toward me.

"I see you kept the card. Haven't seen you in here before," he said to me. It was the guy from the airport who had given me the card with the address of this bar on the back. He opened his mouth in a friendly smile. It was a nice smile. He was a leather kind of guy, but he didn't look too rough. He had a full head of dark hair with a tendril of curl hanging down over what appeared, in this light, to be a violet eye. The lustrously dark hair was mostly on one side; the other side was cut short in a buzz cut and when he turned his head I could see that he had two initials, a capital B and D, shaved into the side of his head. I hadn't seen this at the airport, but he'd had it covered with a baseball cap there.

"Haven't been in here before," I said.

"Lookin' for some action?" he asked. I let my gaze float down from his well-tanned face to take in how he filled out the cut-off athletic T he was wearing—which was quite well. He swelled and bulged where he should if he was spending quality time working his body, and he V'd down to a trim waist with armor-plate-like abs. There was a metal ring in the navel I saw peeking out below the hem of the cut-off T.

"Yeah, maybe," I answered. "But maybe just curious. I'd wanted to check out this part of town. This looked like a good bar."

"It's a good place. A good place to get your itch scratched."

As he talked, I could see that something was going on with his mouth. A flash of a reflection off something. And then when he brought his beer around to take a swig, I saw that it was a gold bead he had pierced in his tongue. I noticed then that he had small rings pierced elsewhere on his face too—an eyebrow ring and then two in one earlobe—in all three cases, it was on the side where he had the buzz cut. It almost seemed like he was two people. A punker on one side and the captain of the college football team on the other.

"You've got a pierced tongue," I said, almost involuntarily, an observation I half thought I'd made in silence to myself, but he laughed and followed up on that, so I must have said it out loud.

"Yep. That defines me. It's what I do. It's sexy. I believe it's what every man secretly wants—what every man should have."

"I didn't notice those . . . the tongue and the ears . . . at the airport."

"Ah, so you do remember me," he said with a little laugh. His smile conveyed that he'd scored a point. It really was his invitation that had brought me here. "I take them out when I fly. Having hardware like that is a sure invitation to security scrutiny. As it was I didn't strip down enough."

I was going to say something to that, but wasn't quick enough in deciding what to say, and he went on. "Your mug is dry. Can I buy you a beer?"

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

That must have been some sort of code, some sort of signal in this bar, because he smiled, and when the barkeep delivered the beer, the guy moved his hand up under the hem of my T-shirt and palmed my lower back. His hand was warm to the touch, and I felt myself getting into the mood.

"Those must hurt, though. I can't imagine eating with a stud like that."

"What, can't imagine being eaten with a stud like that?" he asked in mock horror. And when I reddened up, he said, "That can be easily fixed. And no one has ever said it hurt. Everyone's liked it . . . a lot."

I covered the embarrassment of the moment by taking a deep drink of beer.

"My name is Steve," he said.

"Oh, I thought it was something like Billy or Butch," I said, coming up for air from my beer.

He turned the punk side of his head toward me and said, "Oh this? These ain't my initials. These define me too. Know what they stand for?"

"No," I said, with a smile. "Tell me."

"Well I'll give you a hint. The B is for big. I could show you what the D stood for."

I laughed but changed the subject. "You said the piercings defined you. What does that mean? And how many do you have."

I took another big swig of my beer as he sat there and smiled at me with some sort of secret smile like maybe I'd bitten on exactly what he wanted me to ask. He ran the tip of his tongue out of his mouth and moved it around on his lips. I couldn't help but watch it move, and he knew that was what I was watching.

"Thirteen. Lucky thirteen. That's how many piercings I got now. And it's what I do. Mainly I do tattoos at the parlor just down the street. You probably passed it on your way in. But I do piercings there too. In the back room."

"Thirteen. I can't imagine where you'd put thirteen—and no tattoos."

"A tat or two, yes, but not where most would notice. Just some close friends. You could be a close friend, though."

He stood up from his stool then and came in close beside me. The hand that had been on the small of my back moved slowly but quite noticeably around my side, under my shirt until he was completely embracing me with his arm and his palm was on my lower belly. The tips of his three longest fingers were pushing into the upper reaches of my bush.

"Here's another one," he said as he ran his free hand down to his navel. The thumb of his other hand was thrumming my own navel gently—and my dick was definitely starting to take more notice.

"That other security guy at the airport didn't tell you about the other ones?" he asked in a low voice. "Didn't tell you whatall hardware was setting your machines off?"

"No. I didn't talk to Fred about it after that," I said. "We're trained not to talk about the passengers that way."

"And yet you came anyway? I feel honored. Hey, it looks like you could use another beer. OK?"

"OK," I answered. I was breathing a little heavy, though, because of the hand on my belly, which was pushing a little lower. I moved my own hand down to cover it—I thought to let him know that this was far enough. But he took it as recognition that he had his hand there. And that it was OK with me. He moved a finger on each side of the root of my cock, and he'd somehow moved a thick ring he had on one of the fingers down near the tip and jammed it on top of my cock where it rooted, rubbing it on the vein there, which was hardening me right up. I started to tremble, which wasn't lost on Steve.

I looked around the room in panic, thinking we were on exhibition. But all the other guys there were pretty well paired off—and some of them were in more intimate poses than we were.

"Another beer here, Tony," Steve was calling out in a horse voice. "A special, please."

The barkeep came over and set another mug of beer down. And as he winked at me, he also flipped out two condom packets on the bar top. So much for wondering what a special was.

Steve leaned into me and moved his mouth to the side of my neck, and I felt the golden tongue bead move along the jugular vein there.

I moaned quietly and shuddered.

His lips went to my ear. "I have a room upstairs. I want you to count all thirteen piercings. And then I want to fuck you."

"Uh, no, I don't . . ."

"It's what you came for."

* * * *

He had me arched over the double bed, his arms encasing my waist, the stud in his tongue rubbing over my nipples, first one and then the other as I moaned softly, my fingers laced in the hair at the back of his head. He ran his tongue up onto my neck and took my mouth in his, rubbing his tongue stud across my tongue. One piercing.

He released my lips and I moved mine up his face and kissed his eyebrow. Piercing Two.

He held me in place with one hand while he unzipped first my jeans and then his with the other and pushed our jeans and briefs to the floor. Meanwhile my lips went to his ear and played with the two small rings there. Piercings Three and four.

I moved my hands between our chests. One hand went to one of his nipples. Piercing five. And the other to the other nipple—piercing six—before descending to his navel. Piercing seven.

Steve leaned down more into me, arching me back onto the surface of the bed, until my shoulder blades rested on the surface and then he raised his chest from me. He was smiling down at me, his hands going to encase my cock and gently working it, making it engorge as I moaned and sighed under him.

I watched the muscles of his chest move with the motion of his arms as his hands worked me. I saw then that he did have tattoos. There was a small green lizard poking its head and the front of its body out from underneath his arm pit, the lizard curved up under the bulge of his breast. Another, smaller lizard was curved up toward that one from the other side of his body, coming up from the hollow above his groin and beside his lower belly.

I played with those with my fingers and watched his violet eyes with my needy, imploring ones while he smiled down at me and slowly masturbated my cock with his hands. Increasingly I wanted him. I wanted to know about the other six piercings, but I was heating up fast. He no longer was moving his hands as they encased my cock. He was just holding them, and I was moving my hips, sliding my cock in and out of his hands.

He moved his mouth and that golden tongue stud down to my nipples again and then slowly slid it down my sternum, stopping briefly at my navel, on its way into my bush, as I started to writhe under him more insistently, fucking his hands. He still wore the ring, and it was rubbing up and down, up and down, on the vein at the root on the top of my cock.

The tongue stud went onto my cock and began to play with it as his hands, the fingers slick with lube, went to cupping my buttocks, pulling them apart, and his lubed fingers working closer to the rim of my ass, until they were there—and then beyond there, invading me, teasing my hole open. And then more open, the fingers sinking deeper and beginning a slow, counter rhythm inside my hole.

The tongue stud was driving my cock crazy. It moved from root to glans and the stud was working my piss slit, working its way inside me there, slowly, gently fucking my piss slit.

I writhed and cried out and groaned and grunted and warned him I was coming—at which he just raised his head and smiled up at me and said "I know you are," and then went back to work—until I did.

Panting and moaning, in exhaustion, I lay on the bed, trying to regain my breath—never having come like that before. I looked down, and he was standing over me, grinning and holding a huge, hard cock in his hand. I gasped, not so much as the length and girth of it as at the thick metal ring piercing its cut head. Piercing eight.

I was going to be fucked with a thick metal ring. I shuddered and began to tremble.

"This is what the BD was about," Steve said in a proud voice. I just moaned in acquiescence. He didn't require confirmation.

"Have you have been fucked with a cock ring before?" he asked.

"No," I replied in a low, gaspy voice.

"And that's not all. Here, feel this." He took my hand and brought it down to the underside of the cock that was standing straight out from his belly. Piercings nine, ten, eleven, and twelve. A line of thick metal beads ran down the length of his cock with the largest one right at his root.

"This one," he said, holding my finger to the one at the root, "is going to make love to the rim of your asshole."

I moaned, as he ran my fingers up and down the beads. "I'm told that each one can be felt separately as it slides inside you," he murmured. "Doesn't that sound tasty?"

I moaned, already imagining the sensation. Afraid of it. Wanting it. Wanting it so badly.

But he wasn't finished. He moved my hand lower, to his perineum, under the scrotum sack, where there was yet another ring piercing. Lucky piercing thirteen.

I trembled and entreated him to hurry as he stood over me and opened a condom packet and crowned his cock. And then I was pulling him to me and inside and thrusting with each of his thrusts, as he hunched over me and drove into me, thrusting deeper and deeper, and I cried out and writhed and felt each and every metal bead that followed along behind the gloriously rubbing thick cock ring. "Oh god, OH GOD, O-H GAWWWD!"

Before he came, but not until after I had done so again, he turned me on my belly and let the other side of my channel feel the full benefit of the beads, as my fists bunched the bedspread and my teeth bit into the sheets attempting—but not successfully—to stifle my screams of ecstasy. Never, ever, had I ever . . .

Later, his cock still deep inside me, he leaned over and opened a drawer in the nightstand and took out a pad of paper and a pen. "Here. Write down your cell phone number and address."

"I don't think . . . it was a great fuck," I said, ". . . but I don't think . . . again. I don't . . ."

"Write them down."

I was scared, frightened of the effect of this taking of me. Never had I been so fully fucked before. The studs and beads were a nice novelty. But this wasn't me. This wasn't my world. I didn't want to . . .

But I wrote my phone number and address down and then he was gone, leaving me, in emotional and physical tatters. Dominated and scared. And more fully fucked than I'd ever been before. Ashamed. Remembering how I had begged for it—how I had taken his cock and guided—no, literally stuffed—it inside myself. How under the feel of the cock stud and the beads, my hips had gone into a frenzy. This was just too much—too exotic, too far into fetish. I couldn't . . .

* * * *

In a meeting, sitting at the back of the room, bored at the droning on about that week's changes in security check procedures, I heard the quiet buzz. I'd forgotten to turn the cell phone off. I'd do so, but I might as well check the text message first.

The stud revolving around your nipple, rubbing the tender flesh, sending signals to the very quick of you.

I stifled a moan, reddened up and switched the phone off.

In the cafeteria, instinctively clicking on the phone when it buzzed. Another text message.

Sliding the tongue stud down to your navel. Exploring. My hand going lower, possessing.

I clicked it off and acted like nothing was happening. But I had to hold my glass with both hands, I was trembling so hard.

At home, in the evening, trying to read, the cell phone sitting next to me on the table. Trying not to look at the phone. Not wanting it to buzz. Knowing it would. Wondering why it hadn't. Then it did. His voice this time.

"Are you home?"

"Yes." A faltering reply.

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Are you wearing a ring?"

"Yes."

"Unzip your pants. Take your cock out. Run the underside of the ring on your finger up and down the top of it, along the vein."

At each instruction, there was a pause. And without thinking or resisting, I responded to the command in his voice.

"I hear you breathing harder. You have done it, yes?"

"Yes." Almost a whimper.

"Go to the door. You'll find a package outside. Bring it in. Go to your bedroom, strip, and lay on the bed and open the package."

"Steve . . ."

"Are you going to the door?"

A pause. And then, in a low, tortured voice. "Yes."

"Are you there, on the bed, now, naked?"

"Yes."

"Open the package and do it. Do not hang up. I want to hear you come."

The package contained a thick dildo with knobs on it and a small bottle of lube.

"There, that was nice," he said when I was finished. "Now, come to me. We begin."

"Steve . . . I can't . . . I . . ."

Using all of the strength inside me I switched the phone off.

It was raining, and dark, and I hadn't ever driven in that section of town at night. I didn't even know if I'd be able to find the tattoo shop that was advertised on the card he'd given me that first Saturday at the airport. My hands were trembling and were slick on the wheel of the car. I wanted to turn around and go home—to get rid of the cell phone. To get a new one. To move, even, because he knew where I lived.




Pierced!



I was well past the "experimental" part of life when I learned how sensitive my nipples are. I had been married several times. My daughters from my second marriage were grown and in college. So one would think that I had pretty well reached fulfillment as far as general thrills (and sexual thrills in particular) went.

Nevertheless, when I met Cindie I found out how wrong I was. For one thing, she let me know early in our relationship that she liked -- that was how she said it, but the truth was more like 'needed' -- to be spanked. It soon became apparent that she loved it as a part of foreplay. Not that it had to happen every time, but the sex was definitely hotter if she was working with a stinging, red, paddled butt.

That was just the tip of the iceberg, as they say. As we continued to explore and open up to each other, we found that both of us enjoyed ass play. I had already known that about me, though my experience with other women had left me feeling somewhat frustrated in that department. Cindie was more than happy to help me live my fantasies.

To start with, we both indulged a long held fantasy of having anal sex. I had always wondered what it would feel like to be up a woman's ass. She was eager to feel a cock up her butt. She even took me into her mouth afterwards. I learned that I enjoyed spanking her soft butt and turning her into a sexual puddle. When she gets her ass paddled well she is up for virtually anything.

The day that she reached up and pinched my nipples while my cock was in her mouth gave me such a thrill that I acquired an immediate nipple fetish. I sent off for some clamps and used them on myself. I gradually made them tighter and tighter until I could take the full pressure of the clamps without using the adjusting screws. I reveled in the stinging nip of the clamps as the weights dangled from my chest.

She bought me some vibrating clamps for my birthday. In a very short time my normally small nubs had enlarged so that they stood out permanently, as if it was constantly cold. What fascinated me the most was that there seemed to be a connection between my nipples and my dick. Whenever my nipples were being clamped, pinched, or bitten, my cock got hard. During sex, if Cindie sucked a nipple into her mouth, I would spill myself inside her very soon afterward.

All this led up to my 56th birthday. Due to our economic situation, Cindie was living in another town. We only got to see each other when one of us traveled the hundred miles for a visit. Absence, in this case, while painful for us both, did serve to keep our sex life exciting. Anticipation made it all the more sweet when we did get together.

At any rate, I went to visit her the week of my birthday. She had planned ahead. When we rolled out of bed that morning she told me that I had an appointment at 11:00 that morning.

"What kind of an appointment?" I asked, assuming that she had bought me a massage or something. She wouldn't say. We ate breakfast and she kept smiling at me.

At 10:45 we got into the car and drove downtown. The winter I was 51, I decided I wanted a tattoo. I found a photo of a colorful lizard and had it etched into the back of my shoulder. My reasoning was that it would be unseen there unless I wanted it to be seen. I also reasoned that the flesh under it would go through little change, no matter how I aged or how much weight I gained or lost. Unfortunately, it was also generally invisible to me.

Wanting another tattoo, I'd told Cindie that I was considering it. So when she led me to the tattoo studio I was only a little surprised. "But I haven't decided what I want yet," I objected as she pushed me through the door. 

"Let's go in anyway," she said. So I was willing to look at their collection of "flash" (as the drawings of tattoos are called). My lizard was unique. I had taken a photo I had found on the internet to a different tattooist. I didn't want something that anybody else had. He used the photograph to create my lizard. So as we walked into the small outer lobby of the place I figured my birthday present was doomed.

When the much decorated guy with the graying ponytail came out of the curtained doorway he greeted Cindie as if they were acquainted. "Ah," he said. "So this is the husband?"

"Yep," Cindie said. "This is Dan. It's his birthday today."

"Well, happy birthday, Dan. I'm Bill. Come on back." He went back through the curtains and I frowned at my wife. I had the thought that she had presumed to pick out something to have tattooed on me. I would have to hurt her feelings by turning her down. I didn't like the situation.

Nevertheless, I decided to go at least until the point of no return. Cindie propelled me through the curtains and I found myself in a slightly larger room. There were two barber chairs there and a stainless steel table covered with a sheet. I didn't see any paper outline of any kind of tattoo.

The artist was standing next to one of the chairs expectantly. "Wait a second," I finally objected. He seemed ready to go to work and I hadn't even seen what she had picked out. A tattoo is something that is with you for life. I wanted to make sure it was something I wanted to wear for eternity. "I want to see what she picked out."

"Oh, that will be up to you later. To start with we just put in a small stud," the tattooist said. I didn't understand. Then Cindie reached around me and pinched one of my nipples through my shirt. The bulb went on in my mind. We weren't there for a tattoo! She had paid to get my nipples pierced!

We had discussed it. I hadn't decided if I really wanted it done yet. I mean, I did but I didn't. Even though it wasn't as obvious as a tattoo, it was a body modification. I had read some accounts written by people who had gone through it. There were both pro and con tales. In my mind I vacillated from being eager for it and deciding that I definitely didn't want to do it.

I sat in the chair and Cindie helped me out of my shirt. I felt a shiver wash over me and my already alert nipples stood out even more. I leaned back in the chair. Bill had been doing something at the work bench. He came to stand next to the chair. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"I guess so," I replied, looking at Cindie. She was grinning. At that very second, I knew I wanted this. "Yeah," I said. "Let's do it."

Bill swabbed my left nipple with alcohol. It got colder with the evaporation. I reached for Cindie's hands. She took mine and squeezed. Bill picked up a pair of forceps from the tray and, in a businesslike manner clamped my nipple.

I flinched a little but the forceps weren't as tight as my clamps so I relaxed a bit. Looking down I saw that the tips of the instrument were formed so that there was a hole through each side. Bill reached to the tray and I had to look away. I looked at my wife and she was paying close attention to Bill's hands. Then she looked up at me and grinned lasciviously.

I felt him pull the clamp tight and readied myself for the pain. He pushed the needle through my flesh. The pain was so intense that I inhaled with a loud hiss. My God, but it hurt! The pain started bad enough but as he worked the thing through it climbed to a plateau and steadied. I let my breath out and drew in another ragged lungful. I felt my nipple being moved and tugged.

Glancing down I saw that he had already inserted the bar into the hollow tube that ran right through me. There was a little trickle of blood, but surprisingly little. He pulled the far end of the tube and the bar was in. Setting the tube aside he screwed the ball on the outside of the bar and it was done. He swabbed me with the alcohol pad and THAT stung worse!

Cindie made me let go of her hands because, as she said, she needed to get some circulation going again. I kept looking at my new decoration and realized that my cock was like an iron rod in my pants. That made me decide.

"Do the other one, too," I said. Bill chuckled and moved around to the right side of the chair. I looked up at Cindie and she had an expression of surprise on her face. I didn't care whether Bill was there or not. I took her hand and placed it on my erection and her eyes widened before she grinned at me again.

As Bill swabbed my unadorned nipple, Cindie unzipped my pants. When Bill placed the clamp on, Cindie leaned forward and took my cock into her mouth. When the needle pierced my nipple I shot my load into my wife's mouth. It was just that quick!

When Bill was finished he walked to the curtained doorway. Turning, he winked at us and said, "I don't have another appointment for a half hour. I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee across the street." The curtain swayed as he walked out.

Cindie pulled me to my feet and unbuckled my belt. After some eager fumbling we both stood there naked. I was still hard as a rock. My nipples were screaming at me, but I was brand new. She turned and knelt in the chair, resting her hands on the back. I moved in behind her. I pushed the head of my cock between her thighs and was not surprised to find her wet and dripping. I slipped back and forth across her dripping lips.

Then I positioned my cock for insertion and took hold of her hips. I thrust forward and buried my length into her completely. She gave a grunt and a wail as I pulled all the way out. She wiggled her butt. I slapped it hard and pushed forward again. My cock found its way without any help from my hand.

The chair was bolted to the floor. Otherwise we'd have likely injured ourselves as we fucked. My belly slapped against her wonderfully round ass with each stroke. The sting of my nipples added to the sheer pleasure of fucking my wife. Every few strokes I gave her a loud swat.

After a few minutes she began her "orgasm chorus". She is very vocal when she climaxes. I pounded into her harder yet. She went over the top and I kept going. Having already come, I was ready to take her where she needed to go. Her flesh contracted around my hot cock time after time.

She finally raised up and collapsed back against me. I knew she was satisfied. I let my cock slip out of her juicy pussy. Her legs shook as she turned around and sat in the chair. She grabbed my still hard cock and pulled me toward her. She took me into her mouth again, sucking me and licking until I reached another orgasm.

We cleaned up as well as we could in the little rest room and got dressed. I still don't know if Bill just had great timing or if he had returned earlier and watched us. I don't care. In fact, I had been so turned on at the start I wouldn't have cared if he had stood there in the room with us as we made love. He came through the curtain as I was buckling my belt. He handed me a little printed sheet of after care instructions. He handed Cindie the bill.

We thanked him and Cindie reached her lips up to give him a little kiss on the cheek to thank him. She took some folded bills out of her pocket and handed them to him. We walked through the curtain and out to the street.

My nipples stung. The sun was shining and I was happy. I looked at Cindie and she grinned. "Happy birthday, Stud," she said, giving my hand a squeeze.



Pierced



© Copyright jvaughn, 2013. This is a registered, copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

*

Paul suppressed a sigh as he headed down the hall to the bathroom. The dim lighting helped to hide the scuffed walls and worn carpet. The dorm smelled of old sweat, dirty socks, and faintly of the strong ammonia cleanser that the janitorial staff used to curb the mold and bacteria that pervaded the fifty-year-old building.

His mind was not on the bleakness of his living quarters tonight, however, it was on the embarrassing date he'd just ended. His dates were often awkward; this one had been downright mortifying.

He had taken Tammy out because it was expected of him. He was a wide receiver on Washington State University's football team. It was his responsibility to date beautiful women. Tammy definitely qualified as that and then some. She had waist-length soft brunette curls, sparkling brown eyes, and the body of a lingerie model. She sat beside him in his economics class, which she was skating right through, so she was plenty smart too.

She was lively and fun, and their flirting had been escalating since classes had started a month earlier. He enjoyed her company and thought maybe things could work between them, but asking her out had turned out to be a huge mistake.

Dinner was fine—they'd gone for pizza at Milly's. It was close to campus, frequented by his friends, and kind to students on a budget. They'd run into several people they knew and ended up sharing a table, pizzas, and pitchers of soda. It was only afterwards, when he walked Tammy home, that he got into trouble.

Their conversation on the way to her apartment had been light. He'd tried to leave her at her doorstep, but she'd cajoled him in for a beer. That was my first mistake, he thought. I never should have gone into her place. It gave her the wrong idea about my intentions. In spite of her urgings, he had kept his beer consumption to two. He knew better than to drink too much when he had an early class the next day.

She, however, was under no such compunction. She'd consumed four beers in the time it took him to drink two and got more flirtatious with each one. The more aggressive she became, the more uneasy he felt. Most guys would have loved it when she unbuttoned her shirt to show more cleavage, or when she rubbed up against them in the kitchen while they were getting a glass of water. Paul had just panicked.

He knew what was wrong: he preferred guys. It was not something he admitted to anyone. He barely admitted it to himself. Although Washington state had recently legalized gay marriage, that open attitude was firmly confined to the other side of the state. He'd grown up on a farm outside of the Tri-Cities where, at best, gays were ridiculed—more often they were demonized and bullied. WSU had a mix of students from all over the world, so it wasn't entirely conservative, but he was on the football team where anti-gay sentiments were common.

He had tried to squelch his natural tendencies. He'd known he wasn't straight since he was twelve, but he was hoping he was at least bisexual. He wanted to find a girl who could make him happy, it just hadn't happened yet. He'd had sex with girls. He'd even enjoyed it, but he had to be in just the right mood—or perhaps stone-drunk since that's when it always seemed to happen. The girl also had to say and do the right things; if he felt pressured at all, his dick would refuse to cooperate.

That is what had happened with Tammy. She had rushed him and he'd run. Literally. I must have flirted too much. I must have encouraged her without meaning to. It was a fine line to walk: flirting enough to keep the girl interested and feeling good about themselves, but not so much that they were brave enough to make advances on their own. He'd underestimated Tammy; she was braver than he thought. She must have assumed he was just shy and needed some additional incentive. She had clearly been tipsy when she'd pulled off her shirt, ostensibly to show him her new lacy bra. That's when he had bolted, wanting to get out quickly before she had a chance to realize his cock was still completely flaccid. I'm not normal. Most guys would have been all over her.

He winced as he remembered the expression on her face. He hoped the incident wouldn't come back to bite him too badly. At the least, it would be embarrassing to see her in class next week.

Should I give up on girls altogether? he wondered. He didn't blame Tammy; he was angry with himself. He shouldn't have asked her out and definitely shouldn't have gone into her apartment. Now it was already after midnight. He should have come home early and been sound asleep by now.

While he'd been ruminating over his disastrous evening, he had reached the bathroom, set his toiletry bag on the counter, and gotten ready to brush his teeth. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he noted that the bruise he'd gotten on his cheek during practice a few days earlier had faded. His thick blond hair was sticking up more than usual—he was way overdue for a haircut, but never seemed to have the time or the money. He looked tired, the redness in his eyes making his blue irises appear smoky gray.

He was just about to turn the water on when he heard a small noise coming from the shower area. He paused and tilted his head to listen. It came again and this time he was sure it was a sob. What the hell?

He moved on quiet bare feet around the corner into the shower area. If it was some freshman crying because he was homesick or his girlfriend had dumped him, then he would probably give him his privacy, but there had been a truly distressed quality to the sob he'd heard, and something told him he needed to make sure that whoever it was wasn't about to commit suicide or something.

The shower area was made of individual stalls with changing cubicles, and the noise was coming from the one furthest away.

Should I say something or just peek in? he wondered. Whoever was in the last stall sucked in their breath sharply and then moaned. He sounded like he was in pain. That decided for it Paul.

"Hey, are you okay?" he called as he strode quickly to the end stall and pulled open the curtain.

The sight that met his eyes was one he would remember vividly for a long time to come. A thin, young man was huddled on the wet tile floor in the corner of the shower. He was naked and visibly shaking, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. His face was buried in his arms, but he looked up in alarm as Paul swept the curtain aside. His huge dark eyes were filled with terror and glassy with pain. There were tear streaks down his face and a red mark was blooming on his cheek as if he'd been struck.

"What happened?" Paul asked as he entered the changing stall. He was about to ask the youth if he were okay again, but he clearly was not. As Paul squatted in front of him, the young man stiffened and then whimpered in pain. He was clearly terrified, and the sound he made ripped into Paul's gut like a knife.

"Go ... go away!" the young man cried, his voice making a weird hiccupping sound that Paul remembered having made himself when he was a small child and had cried too hard.

"I won't hurt you," Paul said gently. "I want to help. Please tell me where you're hurt. Should I call 911?"

The boy shook his head, but some of the panic faded from his eyes. He buried his face in his arms again, his body still trembling. Then Paul noticed wads of duct tape here and there on the shower floor. One of the wads had a hunk of dark curly hair in it—obviously the boy's. What the hell? Looking more closely at the young man, he saw a scrap of duct tape stuck to his forearm and the redness around his wrists indicated that he'd been bound.

All the air left Paul's lungs in a whoosh. He was so shocked he was unable to restrain his response. "Oh my God! Someone tied you up and ... and beat you?" he blurted out. It occurred to him that the boy might have been raped, but he couldn't say that.

"Leave ... just ... please," the boy begged, his voice breaking.

The tightness in Paul's chest was painful. His emotions felt too big to be contained by his body. The thought that someone had terrorized this vulnerable young man horrified him beyond words, and the need to make it better, to somehow right this atrocity, overwhelmed him with its intensity.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded. "Was it someone you knew? Did they ... did they...?" He couldn't get the word rape out. He hoped to God they hadn't raped this sweet kid.

Paul reflected that he really didn't know if the youth had a sweet disposition or not, but he looked sweet. In spite of the ring in his full bottom lip, the small piercing above his eyebrow, and studs in both ears, he had an air of innocence about him. He looked very young, although certainly he was a bit of a wild-child for Eastern Washington.

The boy didn't answer. He let out another sob and then a whimper. "Oh God! Oh God!" he wailed softly. His body began shaking more violently. Clearly he was going into shock.

Paul glanced around and noticed the young man's clothes and toiletry bag were sitting on the bench, and his towel was hanging over a hook. He didn't look wet, but he looked cold. Paul grabbed the towel and wrapped it around the shivering youth's shoulders. The boy didn't even look up at him.

"I'm going to get you some help," he said. "...call the police."

Now the boy did look up, suddenly and with panic in his eyes. "NO!" he cried. "No, please. No police. Just ... just go away. Forget you ever saw."

"No, I can't do that," Paul said, calmly but firmly. "I mean, you were attacked right? That's ... we need to report this. We need to find whoever did this."

The boy shook his head vehemently. "I just want to forget," he whispered. His big brown eyes beseeched Paul, and Paul wondered if he knew how impossible he was to argue with when he looked like that. He was instantly ready to concede to any demands the youth made.

Just then they heard the bathroom door slam open. The boy's eyes grew round with fear. It broke Paul's heart. Those expressive eyes should never know fear. Paul laid a comforting hand on the youth's arm and held a finger to his lips, letting him know that he wasn't going to say anything to whoever had come into the bathroom. They stayed frozen in place while they listened to the sounds of someone emptying a very full bladder. Whoever it was didn't even wash their hands before they left.

The boy breathed a small sigh of relief then. He was still shivering, but seemed to be calmer than he'd been earlier.

"I'm Paul. What's your name?"

The boy hesitated and Paul thought perhaps he wasn't going to answer, but then he said in a soft voice, "Kyle."

"Kyle." Paul rolled the name around on his tongue. It seemed to fit the beautiful, unusual young man.

"I'll be okay now," Kyle said. "I'd like to take a shower so if you..." He made a small shooing motion with shaking hands.

"Um ... I don't think you should be alone right now," Paul said. He wasn't sure why he felt that way. Perhaps he sensed that Kyle really was not okay and needed help even if he wouldn't admit it. Or maybe he just wanted to stay close to the handsome young man.

"I'm fine," Kyle said. As if to prove that were the case, he rocked forward onto his feet and launched himself to a standing position. Immediately he let out and small cry of pain and crouched over, holding his stomach.

Paul grabbed his arm to help steady him. His eyes traveled down Kyle's lean torso, noting the spreading bruises on his ribs and abdomen. When his eyes caught sight of Kyle's penis, he let out a cry of dismay and revulsion. The tip of his cock was covered with blood.

Paul's body had an instinctive reaction, trying to double over to protect his own precious goods. He drew in a sharp breath. "Oh my God, Kyle! What...?" He had to gasp for air again and couldn't continue.

Kyle closed his eyes and small whimper came out of his mouth. He moved his hands down to shield his cock from Paul's view. "My ... my Prince Albert," he whispered.

"What?" What the hell is he talking about?

Kyle took a steadying breath. "They ripped it out." He opened his eyes and began searching the floor of the stall. "It's a gold ring about a half-inch in diameter with a ball on it. Do you see it anywhere?"

"You ... you had your dick pierced?" Paul finally understood what Kyle was talking about. And then, true to form, no filter for his mouth at all, he blurted out, "That is so hot!"

Kyle's shocked eyes found his, and Paul felt color creeping up his cheeks as he quickly turned his face away with the pretense of searching the floor for the ring.

As the extent of Kyle's injuries sank in, a deep anger grew in Paul. He fought to keep his cool and appear calm, but he wanted to tear someone's guts out.

"I don't see it anywhere," Kyle said with a small sigh. "One of them must have taken it."

"One of them? There was more than one?"

"There were three of them," Kyle whispered. Paul felt his thin body trembling under his hand. "I ... I didn't see them." His young face was etched with pain and humiliation.

Paul instinctively stepped closer. He wanted to pull Kyle to him, to hold and protect him from anyone that might hurt him. He wanted to undo what had been done to him, but of course that was impossible. While he hesitated, unsure if Kyle would welcome a hug, the young man looked up at him. He must have seen something in Paul's eyes, because he grabbed Paul's upper arms with both his hands, his fingers digging in almost painfully, as if holding tight to Paul would keep him from drowning. Looking down, he leaned the top of his head against Paul's chest and took a big gasping breath.

Paul's heart thudded against his ribs. Kyle's hair smelled faintly of pine, reminding him of fresh mountain air. He began stroking Kyle's back rhythmically through the towel that he still had around his shoulders, offering comfort. Kyle was a little shorter than him and fit in the circle of his arms perfectly. Let me help you, please, Paul begged silently. Let me hold you.

They stood there in silence and after a few minutes Kyle seemed to relax into him, letting go of the death grip he had on Paul's biceps and sliding his arms around his waist, turning the embrace into a real hug. Then he began to speak in soft, steady voice. "I came in here to take a shower before bed. I usually always wait until I think the bathroom is empty before I shower, because..." He paused and took another deep breath before continuing. "Because I'm gay and everyone knows it, and some of the guys give me a hard time if I come in here when they're here."

Paul clamped down on his anger, trying not to let his body stiffen for fear Kyle would take it the wrong way. He said nothing and waited patiently for him to continue. He knew it must be difficult to talk about. Hell, it was difficult to hear, but if Kyle wanted to tell him, he would listen.

"So I came in here to take a shower, and they must have snuck in after me. I didn't even hear them. I had just turned the shower on—hadn't even gotten in—when they jumped me. I didn't see them. They knocked me face first into the wall and one of them held my face there while the others taped my hands behind my back. Then they taped my mouth and my eyes. I ... I fought like crazy, but they were too strong. God, I felt so helpless."

He paused and Paul heard him swallow. There was a huge lump in Paul's own throat. He focused on his slow stokes across Kyle's trembling back.

"The whole time they were calling me a faggot and a whore and lots of other shit. They yanked out my Prince Albert, which just about did me in. I didn't even feel them punching me. I went down pretty quickly. I was just praying that it would be over soon and that they wouldn't kill me."

Kyle's breath started coming in quick gasps and Paul felt him grab handfuls of his t-shirt in tight fists. When he spoke again his words tumbled out quickly, his voice pitched higher with emotion. "They were saying that I liked to take it up the ass ... and then they ... and then one of them ... oh God!" Kyle's voice broke at this point and a sob came out. He began to cry quietly into Paul's chest.

Paul blinked back his own tears as he gathered the young man more closely into the protection of his arms. "They raped you," he whispered.

Kyle nodded. "One of them," he confirmed, his voice sounding steadier. "The other two held me still and egged him on. Afterwards they kicked me a few times, cut my wrists free, spit on me, and left."

Now that he was done with his story the tension seemed to leave his body and Paul felt him sway. He might have gone down if he hadn't been holding him so tightly.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered in Kyle's ear. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Kyle nodded slightly but said nothing more. After a few moments, he took a long shuddering breath and pulled away from Paul, who let go reluctantly. "I need to take a shower," he said.

"No, I don't think you should."

Kyle's eyes widened and he looked up at Paul in surprise. "Why ... why not?" he asked.

"We need to go down to the clinic and have you checked out," Paul said. "You ... you might have sustained internal damage. And you don't want to wash the evidence away."

"I ... I think he used a condom. I don't feel any ... uh..." Kyle trailed off as Paul visibly winced. "Sorry."

"No, no. You have nothing to be sorry about. God! I don't even know how you're dealing with this so well. I can't ... it's overwhelming."

"I'm sorry," Kyle said again.

"Oh, sweetheart..." The word came naturally out of Paul's mouth, and it sounded endearing rather than condescending. "Let me help you. We'll go down to the clinic together. I'll get us a cab."

"No, I don't want to," Kyle said defiantly. He glared at Paul and his lower jaw shifted out slightly. He looked both stubborn and adorable. "I just ... I'll be okay. I just need a shower and some sleep, and I'll be fine tomorrow."

Paul understood exactly where Kyle was coming from. He didn't want the stigma of being "that boy who was raped," but he felt strongly that Kyle should be checked out. He tried a different angle. "If you don't report this, if you don't give the police a chance to gather evidence, then those guys will never be caught. They'll do it to someone else—or maybe even to you again," he said, gently but firmly. "You need to report this."

Kyle closed his eyes and a tear slipped down his cheek. Paul's chest felt hot and tight. He wanted to pull Kyle into his arms again, but the young man's body was stiff and forbidding, and the last thing Paul wanted to do was force himself on Kyle.

"You're right," Kyle finally said with a sigh. "I should try to make sure they get caught before they do this to someone else. I don't want the police to come here, though. They can talk to me at the clinic. And I'm taking a shower first." He looked up at Paul with a steely eye, perhaps expecting an argument, but Paul was done. If Kyle wanted a shower, and Paul totally understood why he might, Paul wasn't going to argue.

"I'll stay right here. Let me know if you need anything," he said, taking the towel that Kyle handed him. He tried not to stare at the young man's lithe body as he turned and started the water flowing.

Paul looked everywhere except at Kyle as he took his shower. He was aware of him washing and rinsing his hair, and then running soapy hands slowly over his body. If circumstances had been different, Paul would have been drooling. As it was, he still got half hard, and he chastised himself thoroughly for that.




Pierced



When the water shut off, Paul handed Kyle his towel, still trying not to ogle. Kyle paused while drying himself and Paul realized he was examining his cock.

"Do you need a Band-Aid or something?"

"No, it's stopped bleeding. I'll just let the clinic take care of it." Kyle let out a heavy sigh. "I guess it doesn't matter that the ring is gone. It's not like I'm going to get it re-pierced after this."

If I ever get my hands on whoever did this to him, I'm going to fucking tear them apart. Once again, Paul tamped down his anger. Kyle needed him right now and he needed him calm.

Paul handed him his clothing one piece at a time and waited patiently while he slowly got dressed. He was obviously in a lot of pain and trying not to show it.

When he was finished dressing, Kyle started picking up his things and putting them into his bathroom bag.

"I'm gonna gather some of this stuff for evidence," Paul said, indicating the wads of tape on the floor. "Just wait here a sec, okay?"

Kyle nodded numbly. His eyes had glazed over making him look shell-shocked.

Paul hurried into the main area of the bathroom where he saw his toiletries still sitting on the counter. He quickly gathered his things, knocking the toothpaste into the sink and sucking the remainder off his brush before he stuffed it into his bag. Going to the first aid cabinet on the wall, he retrieved a pair of latex gloves. There was a small round trashcan near the door with a white liner in it. Kyle knew the janitorial staff kept the extra liners in the bottom of the receptacle. He grabbed one of those too.

Returning to Kyle, he slipped on the gloves and carefully gathered up all of the tape, placing it into the plastic bag. On a whim, he went to the nearest garbage and glanced into it. Sitting on top was a used condom.

"Ta da!" he said, pulling it out carefully and holding it up.

Kyle's face whitened.

"Sorry," Paul said. He quickly pulled his glove off over the condom and tied it shut, effectively sealing the condom and its contents in. He dropped it in the white garbage bag as well and went to Kyle who was still standing where he'd left him, leaning against the wall, slightly hunched over.

"Shall we drop your stuff in your room and then grab a taxi?" he asked.

"Yeah. We don't need a taxi though. I have a car. But ... can you drive?"

"Yes, sure."

Paul slipped an arm carefully around the other man's waist. Kyle clung to him, drawing his lower lip between his teeth as he shuffled slowly forward. It was obviously painful to walk.

Paul tilted his head and caught a whiff of coconut from Kyle's freshly washed hair. His lean body was flush against his, warm and supple. As he became aware of how attracted he was to Kyle, he had to remind himself: he doesn't need that right now, Paul—he needs a friend.

****

The eastern horizon was turning pink as they left the 24-hour clinic. The sky overhead was a deep, cloudless indigo, and the late September air had a decided chill to it. Paul shivered in his thin t-shirt, but Kyle's body was warm under his arm.

Kyle swayed and Paul tightened his grip. The smaller man giggled and grinned up at him. It was the first time he had seen the boy smile, and it almost stopped his heart. As if echoing his own thoughts, Kyle said, "You're gorgeous, you know that?" Then he giggled again and stumbled.

Paul pulled him around to the passenger side of his ten-year-old Prius and helped him slide in. Kyle winced as he eased himself shakily into his seat, but then he grinned at Paul again, his eyes slightly unfocused. He pulled his seatbelt out but struggled trying to get the clasp fastened.

"Here, let me," Paul said, squatting next to him and buckling the belt securely across Kyle's narrow hips. "Those pain killers must be pretty strong."

"Well, yeah," Kyle answered, his words slightly slurred. "Especially since I took three of them."

"Three of them!" Paul said in alarm. "How many were you supposed to take?"

"One every six hours."

"Kyle!" Paul wasn't sure why he sounded so shocked. Drugs were prevalent in Eastern Washington and many of his friends indulged in recreational drug use. Paul didn't, and for some reason he didn't want Kyle to either.

As if reading his thoughts, Kyle said, "I'm not a druggie or anything." His face darkened and he turned away from Paul, staring out the front window. "I just ... I just want to forget." This last came out in a whisper.

Paul's heart tore right in half. One minute it was whole and beating just fine and the next it was shredded in two and bleeding all down his chest. Kyle's eyes were focused on something far away. Paul thought he'd never seen anyone look so hurt and lost. He reached up and stroked his fingers down the side of Kyle's smooth cheek, bringing the other man's attention to him.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," he said quietly. "But it'll be okay. You'll be okay." Paul so wanted to believe that.

The sun picked that moment to break over the horizon, bathing the car in a golden light. Kyle's eyes reflected it back, appearing to change color suddenly from warm brown to a beautiful green. Paul was spellbound.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Kyle's lips. His focus shifted to Paul's mouth.

He wants a kiss, Paul realized. The urge to kiss Kyle suddenly overwhelmed him, stronger than any desire he'd ever felt. He stood up abruptly, near panic. His heart pounded in his chest and his mouth went dry. What the hell's wrong with me?

He closed Kyle's door and walked slowly around the car, trying to get himself back under control.

"Thanks. Thanks for taking care of me," Kyle said as Paul climbed into the driver's seat.

"It's no problem at all Kyle."

I'm really tired. That's why I'm losing it like this. He'd spent the better part of the last four hours dozing in an uncomfortable chair in the clinic's waiting room. He had talked briefly to the police and handed over the evidence bag, but otherwise his wait had been uneventful.

His stomach growled loudly, letting him know that if he was going to stay up all night, he needed fuel.

Kyle laughed, and it sounded like a key unlocking the door to Paul's happiness. He smiled at the young man as Kyle said. "You're hungry. I'm starving too. Can I buy you breakfast? It's the least I can do for helping me out."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Oh, I think I owe you way more than the price of a breakfast. Come on, let's stop at Joe's Diner."

Paul's stomach rumbled again, putting in its whole-hearted approval of the suggestion. "Are you sure you're up for it?" Paul had started driving, but he spared a brief glance at Kyle. His left eye was puffy and the red mark on his cheek was deepening to an angry purple. He thought perhaps his lower lip was swollen too, but maybe it was just naturally sensuous. Stop that! his brain ordered.

"Yes. If I don't eat now I'll have to go down to the Northside for something soon, and I'd really rather not."

"Joe's it is."

*****

As they entered the restaurant, Kyle leaned heavily on Paul, giggling and stumbling.

"Take it easy there soldier," Paul admonished him.

The waitress shot them a glare. She probably thinks we're drunk. Paul guided Kyle to a table and helped him slide into the booth. He was wobbly but didn't appear to be in any pain.

"Coffee?" The waitress had instantly shown up at their table. She started pouring without waiting for a response. Paul chuckled at her attempt to sober them up.

He'd already decided to skip his 9 a.m. class. He didn't have another until after lunch, and he planned to take a long nap when he got back to his room, so coffee probably wasn't such a good idea. He stifled a yawn. Well, maybe half a cup.

Kyle was already slurping his down black. Paul suppressed a shudder as he doctored his with cream and sugar.

The young man smirked at him as he added his third sugar packet. "Having some coffee with your sugar?" he asked.

"I don't see how you can drink this stuff straight. It's like kerosene."

"It'll put hair on your chest," Kyle responded. "Of course, I've been drinking it like this for years and it hasn't done a damn thing for me."

That comment brought back the memory of Kyle's smooth bare chest, tapering to a slim, flat stomach. Paul drew in a sharp breath. Kyle chuckled softly, and when Paul glanced at him, he winked at him. Paul knew his face was usually an open book. Did Kyle see what I was thinking about? He felt his cheeks blush a hot red. He quickly buried his nose in the menu.

When the waitress returned a few minutes later, they ordered: Paul the country breakfast with eggs over-easy and sausage, and Kyle, strawberry waffles with a side of bacon.

They carried on an easy conversation throughout breakfast. Paul found out that Kyle was a sophomore—he had guessed freshman because he looked so young. He was majoring in computer science and wanted to go into game design. Paul looked at him with new respect as he listed off his classes, heavy on high-level math. The boy must be pretty smart, Paul thought. He told Kyle about himself: he was a junior majoring in animal studies so he could help his dad out with the ranch. He admitted that he usually struggled with math. Luckily he'd already gotten most of his non-major classes out of the way. The animal classes were always pretty interesting, and he was looking forward to the hands-on sessions that he had coming up.

Kyle was obviously feeling the affects of all the painkillers he'd taken; he laughed often and flirted with Paul unashamedly as they ate. Paul's emotions ping-ponged between concern for Kyle and giddiness as he flirted back—something he'd never done with a guy. Paul thought that he'd blushed more during that meal than he had in the past year. He hoped that Kyle was so high he wouldn't remember later.

Kyle finished with his meal, pushing his plate away and leaning back with a sigh. Paul glanced up to see him worrying the gold ring in his lower lip with his tongue. His tongue snaked out and pushed the ring this way then that. Paul couldn't take his eyes off of it. A vision sprang into his mind of that tongue playing with a Prince Albert piercing in Paul's own cock. Oh God! His jeans were suddenly much too tight. What would it be like to have such a piercing, and how would it feel to have Kyle tongue it like that?

Kyle's tongue disappeared into his mouth and his lips spread into a broad smile.

Oh shit! Paul met his eyes and saw that Kyle had caught him staring at his tongue.

"You want some?" Kyle teased, sticking the tip of his tongue out and running it quickly back and forth over his lip ring.

Paul suppressed a groan. Oh yes! I want! He tore his eyes away and focused on his plate, once again feeling his face grow hot.

"How about some of my bacon?" Kyle's voice was low and seductive. "You have to come and get it." Then Paul had to look at him. Kyle was sticking his tongue out and balanced a long piece of bacon across it. His eyes were twinkling with mischief.

Before he had a chance to reconsider, Paul leaned across the table and snagged the bacon with his teeth. "Mmmm, bacon." He tried to match Kyle's sultry tone, but with bacon between his teeth it just came out growly. The bacon broke and half of it fell onto his plate. He quickly sucked the rest into his mouth, but he was laughing so hard he could hardly chew.

Suddenly it occurred to him what it must have looked like, him taking bacon off of Kyle's tongue. He glanced around the restaurant. All of the other patrons were older folks, and no one was paying them any attention except the waitress. She was glaring at them.

Paul turned back to his plate, still smiling as he used the other piece of bacon to push the last bit of eggs onto his fork and then devoured both of them. No harm done, I don't think. That waitress doesn't hang with college kids.

He looked up to find Kyle staring at him with a look in his eyes that unsettled him. He had only ever gotten that look from women, which was bad enough. Getting that look from Kyle now was downright terrifying, because he was afraid he might reciprocate it.

*****

Paul could not get Kyle off his mind. He had trouble sleeping that morning—his head was spinning with thoughts of what Kyle had gone through. He wanted to bring him dinner that evening, but he had to scramble from his afternoon class to climb aboard the bus for the five hour trip to Seattle. The next day was Saturday and their team had a game at Century Link field against Stanford.

The only time during the trip Paul's mind was not on Kyle was during the actual game—thank God he'd been able to focus and play. They had had a devastating loss to Stanford the year before and team emotions were running high. The game had been close; they'd fought hard and managed a narrow victory: 19-17. He hadn't personally made any touchdowns, but he'd played a solid game and felt good about himself. Spirits were high as everyone climbed back in the bus for the long trip back to Pullman.

As soon as the excitement of the game settled down, his mind went right back to thinking about Kyle. His brain seemed to suddenly have only one track. He told himself that he wasn't infatuated, that it was natural to need to process things after a traumatic event.

He couldn't wait to see Kyle again though, and when they finally got back very late on Saturday night he'd walked past his dorm room door. The light was out and there was no sound in his room, so he didn't disturb him.

As soon as he was up the next morning, heart pounding in his chest, he knocked on the door of Kyle's single room, but there was no answer. Paul tried again several other times throughout the day with like results and thought maybe Kyle had gone out for the day. He wondered if he were feeling better.

Monday he was busy with classes and practice, and then pizza with some of his team mates. By the time he got back to the dorm he decided it was too late to visit Kyle. He knocked on his door a couple of times on Tuesday, but still there was no answer. He was beginning to wonder if he'd gone out of town.

Then on Wednesday, when he was on his way back to his room from his morning classes, he spotted Kyle heading in the same direction, lugging a cello. He was wearing a black band t-shirt and black jeans that showed off the curve of his ass. His Converse high-tops were bright red. Paul broke into a jog and caught up with him quickly.

"Hey Kyle," he called as he got close. "Let me get that for you." He grabbed the cello handle and wrested it from Kyle's grip.

Kyle's eyes widened as he looked at Paul. "You know, I'm perfectly capable of carrying my cello," he said, sounding a bit annoyed. "I've only been doing it for ten years." He reached out to take the instrument back.

Paul swung it into his other hand away from Kyle. This was his excuse to follow Kyle up to his room. "Really? You've been playing that long? You must be really good."

Kyle rolled his eyes. Paul noticed they were green today, a deep forest green. "I'm not going to win any awards," Kyle said dryly, "but I do like playing. I find it relaxing. I'm in the orchestra here."

They had entered the dorm and Paul headed automatically for the stairs.

"You take the stairs?" Kyle asked in surprise. "To the sixth floor?"

"Uh ... usually," Paul said, correcting his course and heading for the elevator. "If I take them two at a time it's faster than the 'vator."

"Wow! You are such a jock," Kyle teased.

"You want to see my strap?" Paul responded in a low voice.

Kyle's eyes widened in surprise. Paul blushed. He couldn't believe he'd said that. No filter. Kyle started laughing and Paul joined him. Several other students were queued up at the elevator when they reached it, so they said nothing more.

On the sixth floor, they walked together to Kyle's room, passing the student lounge on the way. Paul noticed Jimmy eyeing them sullenly as they went past. Jimmy was on the football team with him, but he was fourth string and rarely got to play. He lived and breathed football though, and followed Eric, the starting quarterback, around like a puppy. Paul wondered what he thought of him hanging out with the pierced, gay boy, but as soon as they reached Kyle's room, Paul forgot about him.

Kyle swung his door wide and went in, dumping his backpack onto his bed. Paul followed him with the excuse of carrying the cello, and he nudged the door surreptitiously with his foot so that it swung slowly shut. Kyle's room was very neat. He had a dark blue bedspread and cream-colored pillows on the bed, and the walls were covered with posters from various bands, including The Doors, Evanescense, and several that Paul had never heard of.

Kyle turned and eyed him speculatively.

Paul set the cello down. "How are you doing?" he asked softly.

Kyle's eyes darkened briefly with remembrance, but he quickly masked his pain. "I'm okay," he said nodding and giving Paul a small smile.

Paul looked at him closely. There were dark circles under his eyes and a tightness around his mouth. His curly hair looked unruly and maybe a bit greasy, but Paul wasn't sure what it normally looked like. The mark on his cheek had faded to greenish yellow.

"You're recovered?" he asked.

"Yes," Kyle answered shortly, sitting down on his narrow bed.

"Did you hear back from the police yet? Do they have any leads?"

"No. I don't think they're even looking." Kyle frowned and picked up a trailing strap from his backpack, twisting it between his fingers.

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"They don't care if some fag got beat up," Kyle said bitterly, watching himself play with his strap rather than looking at Paul. "They acted like they thought I deserved it."

"Really?" Paul said, shocked. "But ... isn't that their job, to serve and protect? It shouldn't matter."

"It shouldn't, but it does." He suddenly glared up at Paul. "Maybe you haven't noticed because you're still hiding in your closet, but gay-bashing is alive and well in Eastern Washington, thank you very much."

Paul stared at him with growing horror and a tremor ran up his spine. "Uh..." He was about to deny he was gay, but managed to hold his tongue. It was obvious Kyle had figured him out and there was no point in blatantly lying to him. He had been openly flirting with him, after all.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Kyle said. He tossed the backpack strap aside angrily, and his eyes flashed when looked up at Paul. "But you probably shouldn't hang out with me ... carry my cello and stuff. You know that gay disease is catching."

Paul sank into the chair at Kyle's desk. He realized Kyle was mad at him for some reason, but he wasn't able to spare any thought to figure out why. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Kyle knew he was gay. "I ... yeah. No one knows," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm being an ass," Kyle said, his voice softer. "I'm just a bit bitter about this whole thing. I don't mean to take it out on you. I totally get why you're in the closet—the whole football jock thing and all. It's a lot easier to be gay when you're a computer/orchestra geek."

Paul nodded absently and silence hung in the room like a sinister ghost.

Finally Kyle spoke. "Are you ever going to come out, or were you thinking of getting married and all that shit?"

"Uh..." Paul blinked at Kyle. "I ... up until recently I was hoping to get married."

"Up until recently? What changed?"

"Well, I'm having trouble finding a girl I like."

Kyle snorted. "Well ... duh!"

Paul stood up abruptly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, crossing to the door. His eyes were burning and his chest was suddenly tight. He had to get out of there.




Pierced



"Shit, I'm sorry Paul. I'm way out of line."

"No, those were fair questions. Unfortunately my answers are probably not what you want to hear. See you around." Paul yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway.

"Thanks for checking on me," Kyle said as Paul walked away.

Back in his own room Paul sank onto his bed with a sigh. His roommate, Dale, who was also a friend and a teammate, raised an eyebrow at him. "You look like someone just killed your dog, dude."

"Just having a bad day," Paul muttered. Kyle's words kept echoing through his head. If he wasn't going find a girl to marry, and he was beginning to think that was a very bad idea for both him and the girl, then what the hell was he going to do? No self-respecting gay man would want to join him in his closet. He would either have to come out or spend the rest of his life wishing he was. That realization hit him like a sledgehammer to the back of his head.

*****

Paul tried in earnest to forget about Kyle after that. He had been obsessing over the captivating young man and it had to stop. Nothing was ever going to come of it. He couldn't have a relationship with Kyle. Kyle was very out and had made it clear that he didn't have much respect for those who weren't.

It hurt, though. For some reason it hurt much more than it should have. He felt such a strong attraction to Kyle—he'd never had it this bad before. He couldn't help jacking off to images of Kyle's sweet mouth wrapped around his cock while his big green eyes looked up at him adoringly. He'd tried not to. He'd always start out purposefully thinking of anything except Kyle, but at some point during his session, a vision of the gorgeous young man would pop into head—usually trigging an immediate orgasm. He wanted Kyle so badly, his balls ached.

He moved through the next several days in a haze of regret, attending his classes and football practice, pretending to study, and avoiding social situations, especially if they involved women. His Thursday economics class, the first time he saw Tammy after their disastrous date, was uncomfortable to say the least. Both of them were embarrassed, but they managed to reach an uneasy truce. They were polite to each other, even pleasant, but not flirtatious like they had been.

His roommate, Dale, knew something was up and asked him a few times if he was okay. Luckily he accepted Paul's noncommittal responses and didn't pry. That was one of the reasons he liked Dale. He was easy-going and open-minded, and thought everyone should mind their own business.

In spite of his efforts to forget about Kyle, the young man was still often in his thoughts. He didn't go out of his way to avoid running into Kyle, in fact, every time he stepped out of his room he kept an eye out for him. They lived on the same floor, and it was inevitable that they'd see each other sooner or later. However, after several days went by and he hadn't run into Kyle, he wondered if the other man was avoiding him.

A week later when he still hadn't run into him, it occurred to him that perhaps Kyle was so upset about the assault that he'd moved out. That thought caused a small panic and made him realize how much he wanted to see Kyle again. His logical mind told him it would never work out and it would be best if they forgot about each other, but his heart—and his cock—had other ideas.

Eight days went by before he finally saw Kyle. He had just gotten home from dinner at the Northside student café and was heading for his room. As was now his habit, when he got off the elevator he glanced down the hall towards Kyle's room, and tonight he spotted a girl with purple hair just exiting. The door swung shut quickly and he didn't get a look at Kyle.

He hesitated in the hallway, watching the girl approach. She was quite pretty but not the kind of girl he dated. Her eyes were heavily made up with purple shadow and lots of black liner, her nose and eyebrow were pierced, and she had a vine tattoo that wrapped around her neck and disappeared down her cleavage. Her outfit was goth-chic, complete with a black cincher, flowing skirt, and lace gloves. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes looked troubled. She glanced up but didn't seem to notice him. She appeared deep in thought.

She's a friend of Kyle's and she's worried about him, he guessed. His own worry ratcheted up, playing on the growing concerns he'd had since he'd last seen Kyle. Instead of going to his own room, he went to the other man's, pausing in front of the door to gather his wits about him. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he desperately wanted to see Kyle. He knocked on the door.

There was no answer. His nerves played havoc in his stomach while he waited. Several minutes went by before he had the courage to knock again.

"What do you need, Casey?" Kyle's voice came through the door. "I've already told you, I'm not going. That's final."

"Hey Kyle, it's Paul. I'd like to talk with you if that's okay," Paul called back.

The response was so long in coming that he started to feel foolish. Finally the door swung inward slightly, and Kyle filled the opening. The room behind him was very dark.

"What do you want?" Kyle asked. His eyes were heavily shadowed and his dark hair fell in lank curls around his face. He looked gaunt, like he hadn't eaten in weeks. His gray t-shirt and darks sweats hung off his thin frame.

Paul was shocked by his appearance. He looked much less healthy than he had the last time Paul had seen him. "Uh ... can I come in?" he asked.

Kyle looked at him curiously, a small frown furrowing his brow like he was trying to figure out what Paul had just said. He didn't move to open the door any further.

Dark stubble shadowed Kyle's cheeks, making him appear older and worldly. Paul took in his fine-boned face and over-large eyes. His eyes were brown today, appearing dark and enigmatic. He really is beautiful. His gaze fell to Kyle's full lips, the subject of so many of his fantasies.

Kyle smirked without humor and swung the door open. Paul stepped in on automatic pilot. The room was stifling and dark, the only light coming from the glow of a laptop on Kyle's cluttered bed. Paul realized that a blanket had been hung over the window. The room was a disaster. Books and papers were scattered across the desk and the bed, and the floor was liberally littered with clothes, shoes, and pieces of garbage.

Paul leaned against the door and Kyle stood a few feet away, his arms folded defensively across his chest. Paul stared at him, taking him in again. He looked ... haunted.

"So what did you want to say?" Kyle asked, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone. "Or did you just come to stare at me? Or maybe to kiss me?" He raised an eyebrow.

That suggestion came as a shock to Paul, but his body responded instantly. His chest filled with heat and his cock started to plump. He took a step toward Kyle. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he looked pale.

"I've been worried about you," he said. "You ... you don't seem well."

Kyle's slightly sardonic expression didn't change. "Yeah ... well..." He snapped his mouth shut and looked at the floor. Finally he looked back up and asked, "What do you want Paul?"

"I ... I wanted to see you." Paul's heart was beating too loudly in his chest. Kyle was obviously not doing well, and Paul needed to figure out how to make things better for him.

"Well, you've seen me," Kyle responded shortly.

"Yes, but ... I want..." Paul trailed off. He had been about to say he wanted to help Kyle, but he wasn't sure that the young man would want his help.

"That's what I thought," Kyle said. He stepped into Paul's space suddenly and grabbed his arms, pushing him back against the door. "You want to kiss me," he said. Then his lips were on Paul's, warm and demanding.

All the synapses in Paul's brain fired at once, causing him to short circuit. It took a few seconds for the backup systems to come on line, and when they finally did he found that his arms were clutching Kyle's slight body against his, and his lips were pressing firmly against the other man's in a passionate kiss. He could feel Kyle's lip ring, adding extra sensation to an already mind-blowing kiss. Kyle's lips were soft and full, but not yielding; they were demanding. Challenging. Conquering. Paul felt dominated and a strange feeling of consent fluttered through him. He had never liked it when his dates tried to take control; aggression had always turned him off and made him pull away. But Kyle's onslaught had him moaning with desire, needing more.

His hand came up and tangled in the Kyle's hair, holding his head while his tongue thrust out and flicked over Kyle's lip ring. Kyle parted his lips, and Paul's tongue plunged into the other man's sweet mouth, plundering it. He felt the rasp of Kyle's rough cheek against his. He touched the side of Kyle's face with his fingers, confirming the stubble. Oh God! I'm French-kissing a man! Instead of causing an instant panic as he would have expected, he was overwhelmed with a passion so hot he felt like he was going to burst into flames.

A moan came from deep in his throat. He became aware that his cock was fully engorged and ready to burst. Kyle's body was pressed firmly against his and he felt an iron bar pushing against his thigh that could only be Kyle's own erection.

This is too good. This is too much. His brain spun with sensation. He'd never been so turned on in his life. Finally the need to breath overcame his need to make Kyle swallow his tongue and he pulled away gasping for air.

"Dude!" Kyle's voice was a low growl.

"Yeah," Paul panted in agreement. Then his mouth was back on Kyle's again, devouring him. His tongue snaked back inside the boy's hot mouth and Kyle sucked on it, hard. Paul almost orgasmed right then. Kissing a woman had never been like this. Not even close.

Kyle let out a desperate whimper and began to hump against Paul. Paul felt the steel of another shaft against his own. It was better than his dreams. Oh God! Oh God! His balls drew up.

Suddenly Kyle pulled away, retreating quickly to the other side of the room. Paul felt bereft as cool air took the place of the warm body he'd had in his arms. His mind was in a sex-drunken daze. His cock was painfully hard in his sweats, and he was panting like he'd just run a mile at full speed.

He stared across the room at Kyle who was looking at him with an expression that Paul couldn't read.

"Kyle..." Paul whispered. The longing in his voice was shocking in its intensity. Oh God! I want you so bad. I need ... I need...

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Kyle said.

Paul's balls began to ache as his cock realized that orgasm was no longer imminent. He let out a small moan, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the door. His brain was still awash with lust. Heat flowed up and down his body. He took deep breaths trying to regain his control. He became aware that his underwear was damp; he'd been leaking precum. His dazed mind tried to analyze what just happened. He'd never been so out-of-control turned-on in his life. He hadn't even realized it was possible.

"I'm sorry, dude" he heard Kyle say. "Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and looked at him. He was standing at the far end of the room looking worried.

"I'm..." The first word came out so gravelly it was almost incomprehensible. Paul swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "I'm fine." Better. Still raspy. Fuck, I am so turned on right now a breath of wind would cause me to blow.

Kyle sat down in his desk chair and put his head in his hands. "I'm really sorry, Paul. I ... I don't know what else to say."

"Why did you do that?" Paul asked.

Kyle glanced up at him, and his eyes were full of guilt. "It was wrong of me. I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad. I just want to know why."

Kyle picked a pen up off his desk and began to twiddle it between his fingers. "I wanted to." He quickly followed this assertion with clarification, his words spilling out one after another. "That's part of it. I mean, you're fucking gorgeous, of course I wanted to." He glanced briefly at Paul as if to gauge his reaction, then looked at the pen in his hands again. "But part of it is I thought you might want to too. I mean, when I saw you at the door, the way you looked at me, I thought you wanted to kiss me. And I guess I wanted to find out whether or not you'd like it. Whether you were just a bit curious or really gay."

"Really gay," Paul echoed, still trying to sort his thoughts.

Kyle looked up at him, and his eyes slid to the wet spot on Paul's sweats where his still-swollen cock had leaked. "I'd say definitely," he said.

Oh hell! Paul stumbled a few steps and sank down on the bed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry," Kyle said again. "I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong. I never should have pushed..."

"No, it's okay," Paul interrupted. "I ... it's something I needed to know about myself. I've never ... fuck! I can't believe..." Paul had been about to say he couldn't believe how turned on he'd been, but somehow he couldn't get the words out. "I've known I was attracted to guys for a long time. I've never acted on it. I didn't realize it would be so ... intense."

"Yeah, intense," Kyle said.

"Is it always like that?"

"No." Kyle met his eye and something sparked between them causing a flush in Paul's chest. "It's not."

Oh. Paul didn't know what to think of that. He needed time to process what had just happened. Suddenly he realized something hard was jabbing him in his butt cheek. He shifted and pulled a book out from under him.

"Oh!" Kyle was suddenly on his feet. He leaned over and grabbed something from off the bed behind Paul. Paul caught a glimpse of a black rubber object in Kyle's hands as he yanked open a desk drawer and dropped it inside. He slammed the drawer shut and looked at Paul apprehensively.

Paul's brain took a second to process what he'd seen, and when it did, his eyes widened. Was that a butt plug that Kyle just hid? Paul's cock, which had started to soften, was rapidly filling again. He choked back a moan as a zing of pain shot through his confused balls. Fuck! Was it really a butt plug? How hot is that?

Kyle must have seen something in Paul's expression, for he averted his eyes and his face flushed. "Sorry my room is such a mess," he mumbled, sitting down in the chair again and still not meeting Paul's eye.

"Yeah, last time I was here you must have just cleaned it."

"Usually I keep it clean. It's just lately I ... haven't."

Paul glanced up at Kyle sharply. The overwhelming experience of kissing Kyle had pulled his mind away from his reason for being here, but clearly the young man was having issues. He was probably suffering from PTSD. "Have you been to talk to anyone about what happened?"

"You mean like a counselor?"

"Yeah. There's a hotline you can call. You don't even have to go in to see anyone."

"No," Kyle said, seeming to fold in on himself. "I don't want to talk about it."

Paul felt helpless. He could see that Kyle needed help but if he didn't want it, what could he do? "You should talk to someone about it," he said gently. "It will make you feel better."

Kyle shrugged, his eyes on the floor.

Paul noticed two bottles of prescription medication sitting on the desk next to the bed. He picked them up and discovered that the antibiotics bottle was empty, but the pain medication still had quite few pills in it. "You didn't take all your pain meds," he said, setting the bottles back down.

"Yeah," Kyle said, pushing his lank hair back from his face. "I don't like the way they make me feel."

Paul almost teased him with, "If you take three at a time, what can you expect?" but he thought the better of it and said nothing. At least Kyle wasn't on drugs. Or at least not on prescription drugs. Paul examined him closely.

He was dirty. There was a spot on his t-shirt. His hair was greasy. Paul remembered touching it. At the time he hadn't noticed, but thinking of it now, his hair had definitely felt dirty, and he had a stronger body odor than he should have had.

"How long has it been since you've taken a shower?" he asked.

Kyle's head jerked up and he looked at Paul with a deer-in-the-headlights look. It took him a while to answer. He finally wet his lips and said, "A few days."

"A few?" Paul challenged. He looked like he hadn't showered in at least a week.

"Well ... maybe a bit longer," Kyle hedged.

Suddenly it hit Paul. Kyle was raped in the shower. He was afraid to go back there. "You haven't had a shower since you were attacked, have you?"

Kyle stiffened. "I've ... I've washed off in the sink," he said in a small voice.

"Oh Kyle!" Paul's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.

Kyle glared him. "I'm fine," he said huffily.

"You're not fine," Paul said, jumping to his feet and starting to pace. He had to kick some of clothes, shoes, and a Frisbee out of the way to do it. "You won't come out of your room..." This was a guess, but Kyle didn't deny it. "You're afraid to take a shower. You're not cleaning up after yourself—your room's a disaster. You're hiding in here in the dark." As he said this last bit, he went to window and pulled the nail out of the wall that was holding up one side of the blanket. He let the make-shift curtain drop open and city light spilled in. "You need help, Kyle."

Kyle was silent for a few seconds, his jaw clenched. Then he said, "I'm thinking of getting out of here. I'll see if I can get into Evergreen or somewhere else for next semester."

"No, Kyle!" Paul immediate reaction was devastation. He had finally found someone that he was ... what? He didn't know, but he wanted to explore what they'd started. He definitely wanted to find out where they could take it. He didn't want Kyle to leave. He almost dropped to his knees in front of Kyle and took his hands, but luckily his filter kicked in in time for once and instead he plopped down on the bed again and leaned forward. "You can't drop out!"

"I'm not dropping out. I'm just transferring. To somewhere that's a bit more gay-friendly."

Oh hell!

Paul tried to look at the situation objectively. Is it in Kyle's best interest to transfer? Would he really be happier someplace else?

"Do you have friends here?" he asked. "Do you like the academic program? How much is it going to put you behind to transfer?"

Kyle sighed. "I do have friends here. So far, I mean, up until I was assaulted, I've really been enjoying this school. Sure, there's a few things I don't like, but for the most part I've had a hell of a good time, and I'm learning cool stuff. I don't know how much it would put me behind to transfer. It might already be too late to get in for next semester and that would put me a year behind. My parents would not be happy about that, but I could get a job and work meanwhile."

Paul's heart sank. It seemed like Kyle had already given it a lot of thought. "It seems kind of drastic. I mean ... I'm not trying to minimize what happened to you. God! But I'm not sure running away is the answer."

"I'm not running away," Kyle said. "I'm just moving to a safer environment."

Paul didn't know what to say about that. He had never felt unsafe at WSU, but he wasn't openly gay either. "Why don't you take this one step at a time?" he said. "Don't do anything major just yet—give it a few more weeks before you make up your mind. Why don't I go with you to take a shower? That way you won't be alone in the shower area."

"You'd do that?"

"Well, yeah. It's no big deal. I can be in the next stall over; I have to shower too sometimes." Paul usually took his shower at the gym after practice, but Kyle didn't need to know that.




Pierced by Cupid's Arrow



For Valentine's Day, I had planned something really special for Vinnie. It was something I'd always wanted to try, and I knew he'd like it, too. I told him to come to my place after work, and I'd have dinner ready for him. It was a bit of a fib. Yes, I was going to make him a nice steak dinner, but not until after I had my nasty way with him. A full stomach added to a full work day did not equal a hot filthy fuck session. That equation would always end in a food coma. Fine for a regular weeknight, but not for V-day!

He would be walking in at any minute. I always left the door unlocked when I was expecting him, so he could let himself in. I stood before my full-length mirror for another moment, running my fingers through my long, dark hair, to where it fell across my ample breasts. I ran my hands down the pink cami, loving the contrast of the black lace at the neckline and hem, my erect nipples poking glaringly behind the silky material, then turned to check out my ass in the matching short ruffled skirt, which covered the first couple of inches of my thighs. Just long enough to conceal my surprise.

Looking over my shoulder at my reflection, I lifted the skirt and couldn't suppress a lewd grin when I checked out the straps that ran down below my ass cheeks, across the backs of my thighs, wondering how quickly things would click into place when Vinnie took a gander at what I was wearing beneath the lingerie. The harness looked so erotic, given its intended purpose.

For the hundred and twenty-ninth time since I got it, I opened my bottom drawer and pulled out my lover's surprise gift. Okay, so if we're being honest here, I bought it for my own enjoyment just as much as his - well, maybe I was motivated a little more by my own pleasure... but I knew that he would love it, too.

I had read many erotic stories about women fucking their men with strap-ons, and there was one model mentioned that piqued my interest. So, after some research, I splurged on the mother of all man-fucking sex toys, if the online reviews were to be believed. Of course, they're meant to be used on women, too, though I prefer male ass, myself! I ordered the feeldoe (the blue "slim" model, since he's a beginner), which is designed with a bulb that stimulates your g-spot and holds the toy in place while you're giving it to your partner. It also vibrates, and has a ridged area to rub against the wearer's clit for added stimulation. I got the harness for better control until I gained some experience.

The day it arrived, I felt like a kid on Christmas. I stripped down, removing everything except my bra, and nearly cut my hands up trying to rip open the package. My pussy was already soaked as I stood before my mirror and slipped the toy inside of myself. Hands on my hips, I studied my profile, eyes wandering over my breasts in their baby blue lace cups, to my wide hips and the curve of my ass as I waggled my matching blue "erection," giggling. If Smurfette was a tranny...

The longer I regarded my augmented anatomy, the more aroused I became. "Fuck, that's hot," I had muttered, reaching down to take my cock in my hand, wrapping my fist around the base and slowly drawing it outward, a gesture I had long fantasized about performing. I felt the bulb press against my g-spot. That would feel amazing while I was plunging my dick in and out of my man's ass. I bet I'd even feel it if he sucked my cock. I hoped he would let me find out.

I had practiced walking around with my dick bobbing at my groin. I had even masturbated with it. What a rush it was to jerk off like a "real" man, while I strummed on my clit.

Back to Valentine's Day. As I held the silicone cock in my hands, I felt moisture starting to trickle between my thighs. I became wet when I was admiring my outfit in the mirror, but the thought of finally fucking a man's willing ass, after all these years of fantasy, had me absolutely soaked. Still grinning, almost giddy with excitement, I tucked my little friend back inside the drawer and went to the kitchen to pour two glasses of wine. As I set the bottle back on the counter, I heard the front door open. A few moments later, my boyfriend's tall, broad frame filled the kitchen doorway.

His face split in a grin as he took in my attire, but then when his eyes reached mine, he appeared confused. "I was all ready to tell you how great dinner smells, but it doesn't look like you're cooking..?"

I approached him with the wine, hips swaying, giving him my sexiest smile. When I stood before him, he straightened from where he had been leaning against the door frame and pulled flowers from behind his back. I gasped - what girl isn't ecstatic to get a gorgeous bouquet? - and I traded him both wine glasses for the flowers, an arrangement of fragrant red roses and pink lilies.

"Thank you, baby," I gushed, giving him a brief but firm kiss after I had inhaled the lovely perfume of the flowers. He watched me move around the room, pulling a vase out of a high cabinet, filling it, and taking a minute to snip the stems and arrange the flowers inside. I set the vase on the table, then retrieved my glass from him. "They're beautiful, Vin."

"You're beautiful, Mia," he said softly, smiling down at me. He kissed me slowly, tenderly, and I felt heat blush across my skin. We had been sleeping together regularly for the past few months, and things still felt new and exciting, his touch still sent shivers of desire rocketing through me. 

After our first steamy sexual encounter, part of me had worried that it would be awkward between us since things had progressed so quickly to sex. But I felt so comfortable around him, and he with me, and our relationship progressed very naturally. Whether we took our time making love or fucked like animals, it was amazing. Best of all, he was more than willing to try anything once. To date, I had managed to work my way up to sucking him off while fucking him slowly with a slender vibrator. The first time I had tried it, he had nearly gagged me when he came, losing control of his senses and bucking up into my face as his semen filled my mouth and I struggled to swallow. He cried out loudly as he exploded, howling like I'd never heard from him before. 

When he finally settled down and I released his softening dick, he lifted his head from the pillow and stared down at me apologetically, chest heaving. He started to tell me he was sorry for getting rough with my face, but I quickly scaled him, surely with a predatory gleam in my eye, and shut him up by pressing my mouth to his, sharing with him some of his cum as my tongue swept across his own. Hearing an orgasm nearly as loud as one of my own, but in a deep, masculine voice, had me needing to get off in the worst way. I had pulled my lips away from his and straddled his head, telling him to lick my clit. It didn't take long for me to soak his face with my own cum.

I wondered how intense his orgasm would be when I fucked him?

I took a sip of my wine as I looked up into his dark eyes, running the fingers of my free hand through his hair. "I know you're probably ravenous after working all day, but I thought it might be nice to start with dessert." I knew that sounded cliche, but some strawberries and whipped cream would shut his stomach up without making him full, and boost his blood sugar. Just what was needed for the activities I had planned. We'd work up a nice appetite for dinner.

"Whatever makes you happy. I'm yours for the night."

"Happy Valentine's Day to me!" I kissed his neck, his jaw, licked his ear before bringing my mouth to his, tongues probing, the pleasure shooting to my core. God damn, could this man kiss. His hand caressed my back and slid down over my ass, gripping me through the ruffled material and pulling me close. I was glad he didn't slide his hand beneath because I didn't want him to feel the harness, I wanted him to see it. I wanted to watch the look of recognition spread across his face when he lifted the skirt to reveal what I had in store. 

After a few intense minutes, I pulled back, breathless, thirsty, horny, and swallowed the rest of my wine. I raised my eyebrows at him, indicating he should do the same. He emptied his glass, and I took it and set both on the counter.

"Have a seat, babe," I told him as I went into the fridge for the whipped cream. I had made it fresh before I got changed earlier. I grabbed the bowl of berries off the counter and set both items on the table before him, then sat in his lap.

My left arm draped around his back, I reached out to take a strawberry and dip it into the cream. He opened his mouth as I brought it up to his lips, but at the last second I dabbed the tip onto his nose, then lapped up the whipped cream off his skin. "Yummy," I smiled, feeding him the fruit. 

While he chewed, I took one for myself. I brought it to my lips and snaked my tongue out to lick at the whipped cream. I gazed hotly into his eyes as my tongue swirled over the red berry, pulling every sweet white bit of cream into my mouth, then I took a bite. Smiling, I fed him the rest of the piece. We chatted idly for a couple of minutes while he ate, and I started to unbutton his shirt, asking how his day had gone. He must have stopped home to shower because he had changed out of his work clothes.

While I listened to his deep, sexy voice, I pushed his shirt off of his shoulders, running my hands over his muscular biceps. In response, he ran a hand over my thigh, fingers roaming closer to my skirt with every gentle sweep of his hand. 

I dipped my finger into the bowl of whipped cream and smeared some across one of his nipples, then sucked my finger clean, watching his eyes, which were staring hotly at my mouth. I lowered my face so that I could lap at his skin. I dragged the flat of my tongue over the dollop of cream, then teased his nipple lightly with the tip of my tongue. He sighed. I kissed him, lightly teasing his tongue with my own, then sat back. His eyes seemed to darken as they bored into mine. I knew that look. He wanted to bury his face in my cunt. 

"Bend over for me," he murmured, voice thick with lust. I leaned forward over the table, ass thrust towards him, and watched him over my shoulder. This was it. He was going to discover my dirty little secret, and my stomach flip-flopped as I waited eagerly for his response.

He stood behind me, hands reaching around to my front and sliding up under my cami, running across my sides and my stomach for a few teasing moments before cupping my full breasts. I gathered my hair and pulled it to one side, exposing my neck, and he accepted the invitation, his hot breath and soft lips sending chills from my neck down my shoulders and making my pussy gush. I became so focused on his kisses that I gasped when he suddenly pinched my nipples. He ran his hands over the rest of my torso again, a little more pressure this time, then rolled my nipples between his fingers, tugging gently.

My moans grew louder when I felt his cock pressing against my ass. I felt like I was going to cum without his hands even going near my pussy, which was making a sticky mess of my inner thighs. His hands slid down my back as he moved to kneel behind me, and I kept my eyes glued to his face.

His fingers and palms caressed the backs of my thighs, slowly making their way up to my ass, and I saw his brows furrow when he felt the straps below my ass cheeks. His eyes flickered up to meet my gaze for a moment, questioning, and I gave a little nod. He pulled up my skirt and studied my ass.

"What..." he murmured softly, grabbing my hips to turn me to face him. I complied, looking down at my lover, biting my lower lip, suddenly uncertain. What if he didn't like it?

He peered under the front of my skirt, an unreadable, blank expression on his handsome face, and the seconds ticked by, agonizingly slow. Fuck, I thought, he thinks I'm a freak. He's going to leave!

Suddenly, he looked up at me with that lop-sided grin of his, and I was relieved.

"Really, babe? You want to fuck me?"

Eyes wide, drawing my lip back between my teeth, I nodded slowly. Please say yes, please say yes, I thought. 

I watched eagerly as he stood, grabbed my ass, and pulled me in close, rubbing his erection against me lewdly, as though to show me that the idea of getting ass-fucked by a woman - by me - turned him on as much as it aroused me.

"I want you to fuck me, Mia."

I shivered at those magical words.

"Since I met you, you've done things to me that no one ever has before. And I've found myself wondering what it would be like to do this, to see your sexy ass strap one on, have you use it on me." He paused, blushing. "I found some videos online of this woman who looks a little like you, and she really knows how to use her dick."

I could tell he had stopped himself before completing the thought, and had an idea of what he had been about to say. Reaching between us, I gave his bulge a squeeze. "Do you like to jack off watching her fuck, Vin?"

His flushed cheeks and shy smile told me all I needed to know. My pussy was dripping as I pictured his eyes fixed on the computer screen, stroking his cock, sliding a finger into his own ass as the male ass in the video submitted to some dominant female cockwork.

I smiled up at him, excited. "Want to see my cock, babe?" I took his hand and eagerly led him to my bedroom. He stood close to me as I retrieved the dildo from my dresser. "What do you think?" I asked, holding it up for him to take a look. He seemed relieved to see that it wasn't huge and thick. 

He touched the bulb at the end of the shaft. "Is that for you?"

"Yeah, they call that the 'pony.' The 'horse' is for you, babe," I snickered, stroking the shaft. "I'll be able to feel it when I fuck you. Sweet deal, right?" I held it at my crotch, the shaft jutting at an arousing angle. I thrust my hips gently. "What do you think?"

His eyes were glued to my dildo. He swallowed. Before I could repeat my question, his mouth was closing over mine and he was guiding me to the foot of the bed. His hands were everywhere, my hair, my back, my ass, pulling, grabbing, clutching at every inch of me. He pushed me back onto the mattress, his body heavy against mine, and I loved the crush of his weight pressing down on me. His pelvis pressed into me, grinding against my pussy, making me squirm beneath his body, my clit aching for something to rub against. 

Then, he was fumbling with my harness, hot mouth finding my erect nipples through the silky fabric of my top. My back arched, mouth open in a wordless scream. So close, so fucking close. All this agonizing, tantalizing build-up would have me cumming faster than a 16 year old boy. Fortunately, my dick would still be hard no matter how many times I came.

"Help me get this fucking thing off," he panted, rising off of me. "I want to lick you. I need to make you cum, baby." 

Quickly, I removed the harness, lifting my ass to slip it out of the way. Impatient, he pulled one of my legs free and spread my thighs wide apart, climbing between them, the straps still wrapped around my left ankle. He lapped at the juices coating my inner thighs.

"Ohhh, yeahhh," I purred, feeling his tongue slide between my pussy lips. "Eat me, baby, get me off. Finger fuck me, lick my clit, that's it, baby, that's it." I felt two fingers slide inside of me, curling into my g spot, and I gasped. His tongue flickered over my clit in a dizzying pattern. I tightened my grip on his hair. "Oh, God, I'm gonna cum," I groaned, pulling his face deeper into me. I felt my wetness dripping down my ass crack.

A thick finger slipped into my asshole, he sucked hard on that electrified, erect nubbin between my legs, and I hissed at him, "Fuck me, fuck me with your fingers, fuck me with your fucking tongue, fuck!" I was carried up and over the crest of an incredible orgasm, soaring, screaming his name, which he probably couldn't hear due to the thighs clamped tightly over his ears.

Slowly I regained my senses, relaxing my tight hold on his scalp and the unforgiving, vise-like grip of my thighs that had him pinned to my crotch. I gave his hair a gentle tug. "Come up here, sweety, give me a kiss." I ran my hands along the solid muscles of his neck and shoulders and caressed his back while he eagerly shared the flavors of my arousal with me.

"I love the way you eat my pussy, Vin. You're so fucking good at it, you make me absolutely wild. Sometimes I wonder that I don't accidentally snap your neck, you poor thing," I smiled, massaging his neck and the sides of his skull. "I also wonder something else, baby."

He looked into my eyes expectantly. I pressed my palms against his chest and he rolled onto his side. Sitting up, I retrieved my dildo and he propped himself up on an elbow to watch me slowly plunge the horse end - his end - into my still wet pussy, pull it out, then slide the shorter bulb end home, seating the toy properly, giving it a little squeeze with my pelvic floor muscles.

I took a fortifying breath. "I can tell how much you love to lick me, to make me cum with your mouth. And I was wondering if you'd... would you like to suck my dick, baby? I would just love to see that, see your mouth pleasure me in a new, exciting way. Would that be exciting for you, too?"

I rose to my knees, my little ruffled skirt bunching over the shaft of my cock. He licked his lips, eyes locked on the incongruous sight of the blue phallus peeking from beneath my feminine clothing. His gaze traveled up my body and came to rest on my face, eyes burning into mine.

"Come here." His voice was hoarse. I crawled across the bed to kneel before his face. With a trembling hand, I held my cock steady at the base, my lips parted, breathing heavily through my mouth. Waiting. He looked up into my eyes for a moment, and my heart thudded in my chest, seeing the lust in his gaze. He wanted this as much as I did.

For once, I was speechless. Slowly, his face inched forward, and he nuzzled my fist with the bridge of his nose the way I often nuzzled his scrotum before I began licking his cock. "Oh, fuck," I breathed as he ran his tongue up the underside of the smooth silicone shaft, his dark brown eyes meeting mine, sending a shiver down my spine. "I can almost feel your tongue. You have never looked hotter." I was surprised at the deep pitch of my voice, thick with the overwhelming amount of lust that I felt, from the power of having a man suck my cock.

Suddenly, I smiled. "You look like such a slut, baby. Do I look this fucking hot when I'm sucking you off?"

His lips curled up wickedly in response, and I gasped as he wrapped them around the feeldoe and took it into his mouth until his lips touched my fingers, then withdrew, the suction of his mouth tugging the dildo and moving it inside of me.

"Do that again," I whispered, all humor vanished from my expression. He wrapped his left hand over my right, the hand that was fisting my dick, and went to work giving me my first blowjob. I looked on in wide-eyed fascination, tenderly running the fingers of my free hand through his hair. A moan escaped my throat as the dildo bumped my g-spot repeatedly, my cries more drawn out after he pulled his face back, mouth releasing the shaft, and stroked upwards, making the ridges of the "saddle" press against my clit.

Unintentionally, my fingers grasped his hair and jerked his head back, much in the same way my own snapped back, gazing up at the cieling as the sudden added pleasure surged through my pussy. "Stop, baby, stop," I pleaded, looking down into his eyes. "I want to come with you, while I'm inside you. Not like this." He looked up at me silently. "Lay down on your back, baby," I urged. I removed my skirt and slipped my harness back on, this time over the feeldoe. Once he was comfortable on the pillows, I straddled his hips, lowering my face to his for a kiss. I reached over to retrieve the small bottle of lubricant I had conveniently left on my bedside table. There was a hint of wine on his tongue, but mostly I tasted my own cum, since he had sucked it off of my dildo. It was a pleasant combination.




Pierced by Cupid's Arrow



I pulled my lips away from his, showering his forehead and the rest of his face with light kisses. "I love that you trust me enough to do this, Vinnie. To make love to you this way." That was how it felt, that first time. In subsequent weeks, I would fuck him. But that night, it was much, much more.

He smiled up at me, and his words brought a strange, almost painful tightening in my chest for the briefest of moments, because I hadn't heard them from him before. "I love you, Mia." 

"I love you too, baby," I murmured. "I'm gonna show you just how much." Now, just as he had always done for me before he fucked me, I concentrated on his pleasure. I spent long moments licking and kissing his neck, nibbling his ears, kissing across his shoulders and collarbone, sucking gently at his small, erect nipples. I brushed my lips across his soft tummy, paused to tease his belly button with my tongue, and finally began removing his pants to free his tortured cock. He lifted his hips to help me lower his boxers and jeans, and I tossed them to the floor. I pulled off his socks, kissing one of his big toes before my mouth made its way back north.

His cock looked painfully erect, seemed to be crying out for mercy, so I ceased my teasingly slow progress and wrapped my lips around the head, swirling my tongue over it before sucking gently.

"Oh, God, you have no idea how much I needed that," he moaned. I licked and sucked him slowly, a new appreciation for the eroticism of the act. As I had so many times before, I redirected my attentions to another highly sensitive erogenous zone.

I could hear his rapid breathing, feel the anticipation, the sexual tension thick in the air. A long, low moan escaped his throat as I dragged my tongue over and around his tight pucker. Would this ever cease to excite me? If my cock were flesh and blood, it would be just as hard as the artificial substitute hanging beneath me. With a moan of my own, I speared his crinkled opening with my stiffened tongue, probing as deeply as I could. His hips shifted, lifting him slightly for a moment, as though he were trying to force my tongue deeper inside of him. I rimmed him thoroughly, then squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his skin, watched it drool lazily toward his asshole, where I smeared a finger through the slick substance then gently pressed inside.

He panted, he grunted his pleasure while I stretched him, fucked him slowly with a slippery, stiff finger, then slid in a second, enjoying it nearly as much as he seemed to be. Can a whimper be manly? His were, and I wanted to fuck him so badly, if only to hear more. I watched his cock twitching, bouncing of its own volition, taking on a life of its own as I stimulated his rectum, now with three fingers. 

I knew he would cum for me as I fucked him.

"Feels good, baby?" I asked, fully aware of the answer.

He groaned, neck arching, the back of his head pressing into the pillows for a few beautiful seconds before he looked me in the eye, gaze unfocused. "Fuck me, Mia. I want to feel you fuck me with your cock."

That was all I needed to hear. Continuing to thrust my fingers in and out of his body, I popped open the lube and drizzled it up the length of my pretty blue cock, snapped the cap closed and tossed it aside so I could stroke the silky liquid across my shaft. Hands grasping the backs of his thighs, I positioned myself at his entrance, which was glistening with the lubricant, open and beckoning.

"Are you ready, baby?" I asked in a ragged whisper. He nodded, reaching down to palm his balls, and he ran his hand up over his cock as I pressed forward. I gasped as the first couple of inches slipped inside, surprised at the relative ease, thanks to my manual stimulation.

"Holy fuck," I muttered, staring in amazement at his asshole stretched around the dildo - around my cock. I looked up at him, saw him stroking his own cock slowly, his face a visage of concentration. "Oh, Vin, this is incredible. Are you okay, baby?"

"Go slow, honey, go slow. Feels incredible," he assured me, letting his head fall back on the pillows.

Inch by inch, I pressed inside of him, every so often pulling out slightly, gasping at the intense pleasure of the silicone stimulating my most intimate areas, before advancing further, until the front my thighs pressed against his skin. "Oh my God, babe, it's in. The whole thing, you sexy man! Baby, tell me how it feels."

"It feels so big inside of me. So full, and so deep. Indescribable." 

"Stop stroking, baby, please. I want to watch you cum without touching your cock. I want to make you cum when I fuck you. Please, baby." I leaned forward, and he let go of his dick so he could pull my face to his. I moaned into his mouth as the reality of what I was about to do hit home.

Straightening my back, I pulled my camisole off over my head and threw it to the floor. With a fluid stroke, as I had practiced watching myself in the mirror, I pulled my cock nearly all of the way out of my lover and curled my hips forward, burying the full rigid length in his tight virgin depths, and I shuddered as he grunted. How did anyone use the vibrating feature on this sinful contraption? Surely that would be sensory overload!

"Holy fuck, when you pull out, I feel like I'm almost going to cum."

I smiled. "Feels good on this end, too."

After a couple of thrusts, I felt a fire building deep within me, and I started to get the urge to pee. "Oh damn, baby, is this what it feels like to fuck? I feel like I'm going to piss myself! Fuck, look at my cock, babe. I'm fucking you!" I panted. "Ohhh, God, I'm fucking you," I groaned, my gaze torn from the place where my cock disappeared inside of him as I shook my head from side to side, overwhelmed, no longer able to maintain a steady rhythm as I pistoned in and out once more with an irregular, jerking motion.

"How do you keep going when it feels this good? I can't seem to fuck you properly," I breathed. I felt his strong hands grab my ass, pulling me into him until we were skin to skin, driving my cock deep, and a growl was torn fiercely from his throat. His gaze locked with mine. Scorching.

"Don't think about it. Just fuck me harder."

My lips pulled back from my teeth with a snarl - a noise that both shocked and aroused me. The animal inside of me took control and I stroked hard and fast, the way I needed to be fucked when I could feel an orgasm approaching.

"Cum for me, cum for me," I chanted through gritted teeth. With a sound akin to a roar, Vinnie erupted, the first rope of cum propelled with such force that it hit the side of his face. And that was the end of me. Back arching, I shuddered, plunging into him one final time, a primal howl ripped from deep within me, a hot flood gushing between my legs as I lost complete control of myself.

Chest heaving, I slowly pulled out, then crawled over my boyfriend's trembling, semen-covered form. The feeling of the sticky cum smearing across our sweaty bodies was decidedly nasty and intensely erotic.

"I think I squirted, babe," I murmured. With a slow swipe of my hot tongue, I licked the cum off of his face and gave him a deep, passionate kiss.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I murmured, lips brushing over his.

"I love you, baby," he smiled, tangling his fingers in my hair and crushing his mouth to mine.

I knew we would, without a doubt, be doing that again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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