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Fantasising About Emma - Donor

By: ArrowThroughTheHeart



Emma is my best friend, my dreamgirl, the love of my life. Although I've never explicitly told her so, she knows; and I know she likes me too. The problem is... The Boyfriend.

He looks after her and makes her happy, and she loves him, so I respect that. But I like to think that if anything should go wrong between them, Emma and I would be together.

***

Emma and The Boyfriend have been together for twelve years. Why he has yet to marry her is a mystery to everyone who knows them. Within the past year, however, they've finally got their own place together, and are happily making it their home.

The horror stories Emma's heard about how much harder it can be to get pregnant in your thirties have always worred her, and with her thirtieth birthday looming, it was no surprise when I found out they were trying for a baby. When she asked to meet up one day because she had something important to talk about, I felt sick to my stomach. She was going to tell me she was pregnant, and it would kill me that it wasn't mine.

They now live quite far away, about 90 minutes drive, so we don't get to see each other as often as I'd like, especially not without The Boyfriend around. He gets jealous so Emma doesn't like meeting me when she could be spending time with him. This would be a rare opportunity to see her without him around, so I'd at least try to make the most of that.

I made sure to arrive at our favourite restaurant before her, and to get our usual table in a quiet corner. She arrived soon after, looking nervous but beautiful as usual, dressed casually in ballet flats, tight jeans and a long t-shirt that was a little lower-cut than she normally wore. I couldn't help stealing a little glance at the perfectly-shaped handfuls of her chest as she sat down, crossing her long, slim legs as she did.

We chatted for a while, catching up on things at work and at home. She relaxed a little, but never completely.

"So what's up?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you wanted to talk about something important, and you haven't relaxed since you got here. Is there something the matter?"

Thinking, she chewed the inside of her cheek. She's so adorable.

"You know we've been trying for a baby?" she asked. I nodded. "Well, we've kind of hit a problem."

"Oh. What problem?"

"The Boyfriend can't have kids."

"Oh my God," I said, trying not to let the joy in my heart spill onto my face. "Are you okay?"

"We're a bit upset, but we've known for a few weeks so we're, y'know, getting past it."

"Wow." I said. "I'm sorry. You know, I know it's not the same, but there are other options. Have you thought about adopting?"

"We've thought about it but I don't really want someone else's baby. If I'm going to bring up a child, I want it to be mine."

"Yeah, I understand that." I hate when she's unhappy so I did my best to be sympathetic and find a way to help. "So, have you spoken to the doctors about any other options or treatments?"

"We've thought we might use a donor." She avoided my gaze.

"Oh yeah, artificial insemination, that should work."

"No, we can't afford that."

"So what then?" I asked, puzzled.

"Well, there is only one other way, isn't there?"

It took a second for the penny to drop, then my jaw dropped. "You don't mean...?"

Emma shrugged awkwardly. "What else is there?"

I laughed disbelievingly. "There's no way The Boyfriend will let you... sleep with another guy."

"He's not wild about it..."

"I bet."

"...but I managed to persuade him as long as it was someone we could trust and we knew wouldn't try to take the baby back, or go psycho or something."

"Wow." I was really having trouble processing it.

She took a deep breath and, twisting her long blonde hair around a graceful finger, barely above a whisper: "We thought you might do it."

BANG! The universe as I knew it collapsed in on itself and exploded. In that split second, I knew three things:

1 – things between Emma and I would never be the same, no matter what I answered;

2 – it would be incredibly hard to have a baby with the woman I love and let her bring it up with someone else;

3 – I was going to do it.

There was no way I could say no.

***

We agreed we'd do it the next weekend, giving us a chance to think it through, talk about any doubts, and change our minds if we wanted to.

We also worked out roughly how it would happen. The Boyfriend wanted to be there, in the next room. I nixed that immediately – no way that was going to happen. If I was going to give him the baby he so wanted, I was going to make sure that me and Emma enjoyed it as much as possible.

There was to be no kissing, and we were to keep as much in the way of clothing on as possible. I was to keep my hands to myself. There would be as little intimacy as possible. I didn't like it, but understood and accepted it. And I truly planned to keep to it.

***

So I arrive at their house and knock on the door, just before the agreed 3pm. There was no way I was going to be late – I know The Boyfriend will be back as soon as the hour's up. 

My left leg jiggles uncontrollably and I pinch myself for the fourth time that morning. It hurts just like it did the previous three times.

Good.

The door swings open to reveal my angel, looking every bit as gorgeous as she does in my dreams. She rarely wears make-up (she doesn't really need it) but she's wearing some dark eyeliner that make her grey-blue eyes pop; and pink lip-gloss that immediately entices me to break the no-kissing rule. A black vest top accentuates her cleavage without shouting about it; and a frilly white skirt ends a few inches above the knee on legs lengthened by black and white-spotted round-toe high heels. Emma rarely wears heels because of a long-standing issue with one of her feet that makes it quite painful for her. That she was wearing them, fully aware of my mini-fetish of heels, was proof in my eyes that she had dressed this way for me.

I immediately felt a rising in my pants.

She grins, a little lopsided. Nervous. Cute. And a little hint of naughty. "Hi."

"Hi," I reply.

"Come in." I follow her inside, realising this is the first time I can ogle her openly without putting our friendship at risk. So I devour her with my eyes, lingering on her lovely legs and her pert breasts.

"You're looking... just, wow. Stunning doesn't do you justice," I tell her.

She smiles coquettishly and curtsies. God, how can someone be so innocently cute and so come-hither hot at the same time?

"Thank you," she says. "Do you want a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm fine thanks."

"I hope you don't mind, I had a couple for courage." That grin again.

"I don't blame you."

A shared smile. An awkward silence.

"Shall we...?" She points at the stairs.

"Yep."

She leads the way upstairs, her skirt swaying with her dancer's grace, and I'm entranced by my favourite bottom in the world. At this moment, the biggest worry I've got is that I may not be able to prevent myself from shouting out my love for her. That would make things even more awkward.

I half expected we'd use their spare room, but I follow her into the bedroom she shares with The Boyfriend. She perches on the edge of the king-size bed.

"Why don't you lie down here?"

She seems nervous, but like she's got a plan. Best to follow her lead.

I slip off my shoes and lie on the bed next to her. She swivels to face me, but can't look me in the eye.

"Listen..."

I interrupt. "Emma... I know this is a big deal for you. I want to thank you for choosing me and trusting me. I want to say before we start that you are the most beautiful, cutest and damn-sexiest woman I've ever seen." She grins, shyly. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you, and I hope it'll continue long after today."

She looks at me now, and I swear I can feel her love for me.

"So do I. Thank you."

I shift, laying back, and unzip my fly.

"Now," I say, "I know you like to be in control – what do you want me to do?"

She smiles that naughty smile again, and eyes my crotch. "Looks like you're ready."

She's right – my dick is straining my underwear and protruding through my fly. She straddles my thighs, laying the front of her skirt so it covers my groin.

"Do you need me to do anything for you?" I ask, as much in hope as expectation.

"I got myself ready while I was waiting."

She reaches under her skirt and, though my view is blocked (curses!), I assume she's moving her panties to the side to expose her pussy.

"I'm not supposed to touch you, but this is going to pretty difficult if I don't," she says.

"I don't mind, you can touch anything you like," I reply. She grins, scoldingly.

I feel her petite fingers grasp my dick, and it lurches involuntarily in appreciation. She edges forward and lowers herself, ever... so... slowly, inch by agonising inch, until she has about half my 7 inch cock inside her.

"It's a little wider than I'm used to," she mutters, and pulls back, groaning, then lowers herself again, more forcefully, gasping as she stretches to accomodate her first new cock in twelve years.

She's so tight. She lifts herself up, then pushes herself down until she hits bottom.

Oh. My. God. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. Best feeling ever.

We both moan as I'm as deep in her as I can get. She composes herself, then makes short movements up and down, letting us both get used to it.

"No," she says, and lifts herself off me. I panic. What have I done? What made her change her mind so quickly?

She reaches under her skirt. "I've got to take these off, they're getting in the way," she says as she tugs her lacy pink thong down her legs and lobs it into the corner.

She smiles and clambers back over me, and quickly sinks her pussy back down onto my cock. Again we both moan. She squeezes my cock with her vagina walls, and I congratulate my own intelligence in wacking off twice this morning – if I hadn't done, that incredible feeling would probably have ended this much sooner that I want it to.

Slowly she starts to move up and down. Unsure what to do with my hands, and a little wary of the no-touching rule, I never the less grab her thighs. I look up at her and she doesn't seem to care – her eyes are closed in concentration.

Almost imperceptibly, I stroke her thighs and start meeting her thrusts with my own. I can feel her wetness, and as her bouncing gets more energetic, her skirt flips up slightly, allowing me fleeting glimpses of my cock penetrating her trimmed pussy.

This is better than I ever dreamed.

I don't want to spoil the moment but I'm getting sweaty, so I sit up to remove my t-shirt. I stop halfway.

"Is this ok?" I ask, "it's so hot".

She stops. "You're right," she says, and lifts her own vest top off, tossing it over by her thong.

I freeze, t-shirt still halfway off, as I take in the sight of her curvaceous bosom encased in a pink lace so thin, that I swear I can see her stiff nipples through it; and her butterfly tattoo just above and to her right of her belly button, which I am now seeing for the first time in all its glory. It's beautiful and sexy and suits her down to the ground. I caught a glimpse once a few years ago and have pestered her to see it ever since, but she's always kept it from me. Until now.

"Thank you," she says.

"What for?" I ask.

"Your face tells me you like," she says with a grin, and resumes her gyrations.

Embarrassed, I yank my t-shirt off and drop it off the bed.

"I like too," she smiles coyly.

I drop my hands back to her thighs and I'm not shy this time about grabbing and rubbing them. She responds by speeding up, her breaths quicker and shorter.

"Aren't you close?" she pants.

"Keep going" I urge.

Her movements slow but harden, thudding herself into me now with a sexy little grunt on each stroke. I slide my hands up over her hips to her waist, and run a finger across her tattoo.

"You're such a sexy bitch."

As though that was the trigger, she collapses forward onto my chest and orgasms hard. It takes all the control I've got to avoid cumming myself into her twitching, contracting pussy, and I hold onto her, cuddling her, making this much more intimate than it was ever supposed to be.

I stroke her hair until she recovers.

"Why don't you let me do some of the work?"

She nods and rolls off me to the side. I stand and take the opportunity to remove my jeans.

"Hey, remember the rules," she chides playfully.

"Fuck the rules," and I tug my trunks down too, letting my dick spring free.

"Oh my God," she mutters, "you can't do that."

"It's been inside you and made you cum," I tell her, "it's a little late for modesty."

She rolls her eyes as I climb on the bed above her.

I tug at her skirt. "Can I take this off?"

"No!" she blurts out in shock. "We've gone too far already."

"Look, if I'm going to do this, it's only going to ride up so I can see anyway, and it'll only get in the way."

She sighs, knowing I'm right but not wanting me to be. I tug at her skirt again.

Reluctantly, and without a word, she lifts her hips so I can slide the skirt over her bottom and down her legs, revealing first a neatly trimmed patch of blonde hair, then her deep-pink and swollen lips to me.

I'm woken from my trance by:

"Stop staring, you're going to make me self conscious," she says with a grin.

"I'm just taking a second to appreciate how lucky I am. You're so beautiful."

A coy little smile, and she nods in the direction of her gash. "We'll run out of time."

I straddle her and tease her pussy, running the tip of my dick around her slit, pushing in ever-so-slightly, then easing out again.

"If you're going to mess around," she says, "then I'm going to have to go on top again." She grabs one of my butt-cheeks in each hand and pulls me into her.

God, you can keep all your money and drugs and other women – nothing else can possibly feel this good.

I run my fingers over her tattoo tenderly as I pump in and out of her. As I thrust harder, one of her breasts pops out of her bra and I get a quick glimpse of all her gloriousness before she hurriedly hides it away again.

She scolds me with her eyes, but can't stay mad because she's getting too much pleasure right now.

I take hold of her hips and really pound into her, trying to knock a breast free, and I succeed. She smiles at me and shakes her head, knowing what I'm doing.

"Stop," she says, and pushes me off her. "I told you that if you were naughty, I was going back on top. Lie down."

I do as she tells me, and she straddles me once more. Her left tit is still hanging free so I reach up and cup it lovingly, sliding my thumb over her hard nipple.

She slaps my hand away, frowns at me, and rearranges the bra back into place. Then she unclasps it and whips it off completely!

She takes advantage of my stunned trance to quickly peck me on the lips, and impale herself on my pole. That snaps my attention back.

Her incredible breasts bounce up and down at her rhythm, and I reach out again and cup them in my hands, and this time she doesn't slap me away. Instead, she moans. And her moans are so unGodly hot.

"I'm getting close," I warn.

She leans forward to change the angle, getting quicker, and her luscious globes dangle right in front of my face. There is no way I can resist licking them, and I attack them with vigour, squeezing and kissing in case I never get the opportunity again.

And as she speeds up thrusts, dropping her head to my shoulder, that's when it occurs to me:

"If I don't cum inside you, we could do this again."

A sudden and complete stop. She lifts her head, her blonde hair hanging down, tickling my cheek, and looks into my eyes, into my soul.

And she kisses me. Soft and tender, then more passionate. And she growls...

Then sits herself upright and slams herself onto my rod, milking me as I meet her with urgent thrusts of my own.

We're fucking, hard, now and I hold onto her hips for dear life, knowing we're both racing to the finish, but not for the reason we both thought we would be.

And she fires out a hand and grabs at my chest and twists my nipple hard, and I can't hold back any longer.

"I'm cumming," I gasp, and to my utter delight, she launches herself off me, my ejaculate exploding into the air and coating her glorious tits and flat stomach.

For a moment, I feel like I've died and gone to Heaven. I see stars, and a bright light, and then my angel hovering above me...

"Look at the mess you've made of me," she complains, and collapses next to me.

I roll onto my side and softly rub my cum into her heaving chest and sexy butterfly tattoo. She seems deep in thought, and I realise she could be feeling guilty – instead of having sex with me for my seed, she has now effectively had sex with me for pleasure, and cheated on The Boyfriend.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She nods, and turns to look at me.

"I reckon we'll be able to do this at least another couple of times without The Boyfriend suspecting anything."

I wasn't expecting her to say that!

I lean forward and kiss her, willing her to feel all the love I have for her, and she kisses me back.

"You know," I say, "we've still got a little time now."

"Not enough, though," she pouts.

"Maybe not for that, but I'm sure I can find some way to pass the time..."

I slide my way down her body and lick her pussy, from bottom to top, and kiss her protruding clit.

"You're bad!" she says with her naughtly little grin.

"Only as bad as you want me to be," I say as I grab her around the thighs and pull her groin to me.

She giggles and squirms beneath me. "The Boyfriend never does this for me."

"He's a fool."

I lick all around her pussy, slurping up all the juices that continue to run from inside her, then fuck her hole with my tongue.

"Oh God," she groans.

"It would be nice if you were shaved completely for next time" I say.

"What next time?" she grins.

I bury my face in her cunt, making her moan. "You don't want this again?"

"If I shave it all off, it'll look too bare."

"So get a little tattoo. Or a piercing. Right here..." I nibble her clit.

She moans and writhes beneath me. "I couldn't do that" she breathes. "Oh God, that's so good."

I whisper: "You had a little bar through your clit hood, I'd never stop."

"Oooo, don't stop." She wraps her thighs around my head, pulling my tongue deeper into her.

I slip a finger into her wetness and she bucks into me. I slide my digit down to her beautiful puckered rosebud.

"I don't let The Boyfriend in there" she groans, but she doesn't stop me as I circle her naughtiest hole with my finger.

She starts bucking into me quicker and more forcefully. I tease her as long as I can before I push past her sphincter into her unbelievably tight arsehole. She cries out, long and erotic, and bounces her crotch on my face.

I bite down on her clit and shove my finger as far as it will go up her arse, and she screams and thrashes in her second orgasm. I hold on for dear life, trying to prolong it as long as possible for her, hoping she's enjoying it every bit as much as I am.

I wiggle my finger in her bum and slowly withdraw it, licking and kissing carefully around her sensitive pussy as she returns to earth, and to me.

I slide myself up alongside her and kiss her again; tenderly, lovingly. We stare into each other's eyes.

"That was incredible," she whispers. "Thank you."

"You think that was good," I smile, "wait until next time."

Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 02



After our first attempt to get Emma pregnant was aborted in favour of having further attempts in the future, what I expected to happen, happened.

Firstly, and most obviously, they confirmed she was without child. Secondly, Emma had a heavy attack of guilt.

I'd expected it, because she's a good, honest, loyal person – and she had, in effect, cheated on The Boyfriend. I'd have been stunned if she hadn't been upset. I was a little surprised that she hadn't felt the need to confess – I was partly relieved (less trouble and hurt for everyone) but partly disappointed (if they'd split up, I was still hoping she'd come to me).

What this all meant was that she was really unsure about doing it again. I mean, even properly. She asked me to give her some time and space so she could get her head straight, which I duly did.

***

I remember the first time I knew there were hidden sexy depths to Emma. I mean, I knew from the first second I saw her that she was gorgeous and hot, but she's such a sweet girl that it can be difficult to imagine her doing anything naughty. She kept that part of her well hidden.

This was several years ago, when we hadn't known each other that long, and our friendship was still blossoming. We were talking about my upcoming duties as usher at my sister's wedding, when she mentioned that she had been bridesmaid at her friend Cathy's wedding. I had never met Cathy, but Emma had told me she was a tiny redhead with big fake tits and a pussy piercing. She sounded hot.

"Oh my God, you should have seen the dress Cathy wanted me to wear! It was so inappropriate."

"What was it?" I asked.

"It was literally just a bright pink latex tube dress, y'know, with no straps or anything, and was about this long." She held her hands about two foot apart.

The mental image of that dress was hot; but the mental image of Emma in that dress nearly blew my mind. But it was to get better...

"As a bridesmaid dress? To a wedding?" I asked.

"I know! I couldn't wear that in front of her grandparents and everything, God, that would be so wrong. On a night out, maybe..."

BANG! My mind did explode this time. Just the possibilty that this pretty girly-girl with her exquisite curves and sweet smile would consider dressing like that at ANY time – that was enough for me. That became my newest favourite fantasy.

***

Two months passed without a word from Emma until, finally, she rang me up:

"Hiya, it's Emma."

"Hello you, how are things?"

"I'm ok thanks, I'm just here with The Boyfriend."

"Cool," I reply, reading her hint that we need to be careful how we talk.

An awkward silence, that I break: "So..."

"We'd like to try again," she blurts out. "If you don't mind, that is?"

"No, of course, if you want to. When were you thinking?"

"Well," she said, all business, "how about this weekend?"

"Sounds good. What time shall I be there?"

"We were talking and, because The Boyfriend's got to work this weekend, we thought maybe Saturday after lunch through to Sunday afternoon?"

I was surprised. "You mean, stay overnight?"

"Yeah, if that's ok with you? We thought there'd be more chance of me getting pregnant if we did it, er, more than once, y'know?"

"Yeah, that makes sense. Let's do that."

"Thank you," she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. "We really appreciate it."

"No worries. I'll see you Saturday."

Yes yes yes yes yes!

***

During my Wednesday lunch hour, I decided to ring Emma when I knew The Boyfriend wouldn't be around. After I gave her a minute to get out to her car so we could talk in private, we discussed the preparations...

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Alright, thanks. You?"

"I'm good, thanks. I'm looking forward to the weekend."

"Yeah, about that." Her tone immediately had me worried. "Look, what we did last time was wrong and I want to do it properly this time, ok?"

This wasn't a shock, but was still disappointing. "Yeah, ok."

"Thank you. We should do it as we agreed the first time around, no kissing or anything."

"Ok," I reluctantly agree, "although I thought this was an opportunity."

"What do you mean?" she says, warily.

"There must be things you want to do that The Boyfriend doesn't, so I thought you could try them with me."

She's flustered for just a second, and then finds her words: "Oh my God, we can't do that!"

"Why not? Have you got some kinky fantasies you're not telling me about?" I tease.

I can virtually hear her blush on the other end of the phone. "It's not that, it's just that that would be like cheating again, and I don't want to do that."

"I don't think it's cheating if these are things he doesn't want to try," I tried to rationalise.

"We're not doing it. Besides, you might not want to do the kind of things I might want to do."

"I'll try anything with you."

"Oh God. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you Saturday."

And with a click, she was gone, leaving me with a dialing tone and a whole herd of thoughts rampaging through my mind. Are her fantasies really that kinky? I hoped I'd get to find out.

***

This reminded me of my favourite lunchtime phone call with Emma, from a couple of years ago...

"My costume arrived today," she told me.

"Oh, for your cousin's party? What did you go for in the end?" I asked.

"Little Red Riding Hood. Only it's a bit little-er than I thought."

I closed my eyes, trying to picture her in a tiny red dress. Oh God. "Yeah? So what's it like?"

"It's a red dress, bascially, with some white lace edging and apron, and a black bustier and black frilly skirt, but... it's a bit short."

"There's nothing wrong with showing a bit of leg – you've got great legs."

"Yeah, but you can see my underwear."

Damn, this costume sounds hot. "What, you mean like if you bend over a bit or something? Nothing wrong with that either, maybe just wear some frilly knickers or something..."

"No, I mean you can see my underwear even when I'm standing up. You can see like half my arse."

The idea of Emma showing herself off like that had my dick straining my trousers.

"Oh wow," I said. "I want to see it, can you send a pic over?!"

"No!" she screeched, embarrassed. 

"Look, you have like the best bum in the world, you shouldn't worry about it."

She sighed. "I think I'll wear leggings under it or something, they'll go ok with my heels."

"Which ones?"

"The black ones with the open toe and the little bow, y'know?"

"Nice. Yeah, you could do that. If you're not happy with it, why don't you change it, get something else?"

"The party's this weekend, there isn't time. Anyway, I do like it and I want to wear it, it's just a little shorter than I expected when I ordered it, that's all."

"Ok. Well, it sounds really nice."

"Yeah. I wanted to go for something a little sexier."

"Well it certainly sounds like it's that. I'm sure you'll look incredible. Don't forget to get some pictures!"

She laughed. "We'll see!"

That weekend, I watched Emma's page of everyone's favourite social website until pics were posted – and I wasn't disappointed. Even with the black leggings she'd decided to wear, she looked ubsurdly fucking hot. I don't know how any of the other guests managed to keep their hands off her.

She had an eye-catchingly deep cleavage (unusual for her to put her perfect titties on display), which gained a day-glo yellow straw wedged between them part way through the evening. God, how I'd have loved to have been that straw!

But the best pic was of Emma's cousin, looking horny in a tight white nurse's costume, bending over; and Emma behind her, her own legging-clad bum barely touched by her dress, spanking her cousin's thong-clad arse. The cherry on top – the look on Emma's face that showed how much she was enjoying herself.

I whacked off five times that day to those photos.

***

So today's the day. 

As Emma said she wanted to do it properly this time, I've decided to play it cool. I'm banking on her horniness taking over once we get started. If it doesn't, then maybe I'll start suggesting we change it up a bit...

I arrive at Emma's place a little before 2pm and the door swings open before I reach it.

I'm slightly underwhelmed. It looks like she was even more serious than I thought. She's wearing a pink Tinkerbell t-shirt and the same frilly white skirt from last time. Her feet are bare, and she's not wearing any make-up. She still looks gorgeous, but it's like she wants me to think she hasn't made an effort for me this time.

"Hi," she says, and even her tone is more serious. None of the shy playfulness of last time.

"Hello you," I say as I follow her into her home, dumping my bag by the door.

"Can I get you a drink or anything?" she asks.

"No thanks."

"Well..." she seems a little uncertain about herself. "I wasn't sure if you'd want it, but I got you some viagra. Y'know, just in case..."

That's unexpected, but at this point I'm willing to take it as a good sign – it must mean she wants a lot of sex, right?

"Thanks, but let's see how we go first," I reply.

"Ok."

With no further talk or ceremony, she strides up the stairs and into her bedroom without looking back to check if I was following.

She didn't need to check. Of course I was going to follow.

I got in the room and she was perched on the bed, avoiding my gaze. "You want to get started?" I ask.

"Yep."

I pull down my jeans and she interrupts: "What are you doing? Clothes on, remember?"

"You've seen it before, and they'll only get in the way. It's ok if you want to keep yours on, but I'm gettin' nekkid."

My attempt at lightening the mood didn't work, and just elicited a whispered "Oh God," from Emma. I'm finding it easier and less awkward the second time around – it doesn't seem like she is.

I sit on the bed next to her. "Are you ok?"

She utters a curt, "Yes," and shuffles away from me. "Let's just get started. Lie down."

I shrug and do as she asks, my dick not even semi-hard.

"I could do with some, er, inspiration here," I say.

"Well what do you want me to do?" she asks indignantly.

Baby steps, I tell myself. "You could try dancing a little bit, maybe?"

She sighs, heavily. "I'm not going to play stripper for you."

Damn. "I didn't say you had to take your clothes off, I just said dance."

She sighs and puts some generic pop crap on her stereo – I don't care what it is, I'm not really listening, it's just a beat for her to move to, and she does, hesitantly. It's really obvious that she's uncomfortable.

"Try to relax. We're friends, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to, ok?"

She grins appreciatively, but just a second later, frustratedly throws her hands in the air.

"Oh God, I didn't want to drink this time..." She takes a bottle of vodka that she's got hidden away beside her bed, and takes a quick swig of it, wincing slightly at the strong taste. She offers the bottle to me but I shake my head no. Like last time, I want a clear head to enjoy this to the max.

"Do you always keep alcohol by your bed?" I ask with a cheeky grin.

She shakes her head as she takes another, longer swig. Immediately, and quicker than the alcohol could have worked physically, she starts swaying her hips with more confidence.

A twirl. A leg kick. Tantalising glimpses of the upper parts of her thighs. I start stroking my cock, gently, wanting her to know that it's working, but to encourage her to go further.

Another gulp of vodka. The moves get slower; more sensual. My dick is hardening.

She tugs at the hem of her t-shirt, lifting it a little; then again, higher. She rubs her hands over her bountiful breasts and I groan. She hears it and looks at me – and flashes me that naughty smile I was getting worried I might not see today.

She glances at my dick that's about two-thirds of the way there, and suddenly lifts her t-shirt off, tossing it away.

My mind melts... she's not wearing a bra... she stands in front of me with her gorgeous globes and beautiful butterfly tattoo on full display.

I stare – my jaw's gone slack; my dick's gone hard. Rock hard.

"You're perfect," I whisper as she crawls toward me.

"We'll have none of that," she says as she straddles me in reverse cowgirl, letting her skirt cover our crotches. I feel her delicate hand grasp my hot rod. "Let's put this to use, shall we?"

There's no teasing; no playfulness. She points my dick at her wet hole and lowers her herself, firmly and deeply onto me. My pole jerks involuntarily, jumping for joy at being back. At being home.

"Oh...my...God," she moans.

Remembering my plan of playing it cool, I underplay my response: "Feels good, huh?"

"Even better than I remember."

She raises herself, then forces herself down until I bottom out. We both groan at the electrifying sensation, and I wonder if my plan of not jacking off earlier was wise – my thought was that I didn't want to waste an orgasm on a tissue when I could enjoy it with Emma now – but already I can feel the excitement growing quicker than I expected.

She begins bouncing on top of me in short, quick movements, and I can feel her milking me with her hot pussy.

"It fits so perfectly," she pants. She stops bouncing and instead rolls her hips, exploring how my dick feels from every angle. "It's like it was moulded for me."

She spins around to face me without my dick leaving her soaking hole, and resumes her short, quick bounces. Her slender fingers run down her body and under her skirt, and goes to town on her clit.

Now with her perfect tits and sexy tattoo in view, I've got little hope of holding back for long. In fact...

"I'm gonna cum."

"We're gonna make a baby! Tell me when."

I grab her by the thighs, meet her movements with a few thrusts of my own and grunt, "Now!"

Our moans are in perfect harmony as our orgasms strike in unison. I can feel my cum pulsing into her, and her walls thrumming on my pole. I hold myself deep in her, savouring every millisecond, every perfect sensation, as she collapses forward onto me, burying her head into my shoulder.

Slowly and gently, I return to Earth. Emma keeps jerking on top of me, and I envy the length of her orgasm. Until I realise the jerking has sped up and become more rhythmic. She's crying.

"Hey, hey, what's up?" I ask, genuinely concerned. I stroke her hair, trying to console her.

She lifts her head and sniffs, trying to stop the tears. She stares, not into my eyes, but into my soul. Then looks away... is that embarrassment? Shame even? Why??

"When I convinced The Boyfriend it would be better for us to have sex more than once at a time, I argued that we should probably do it regulalrly over like a week, y'know, to be sure. We said we'd see how a weekend went first," she said. "The idea of doing this every day for a week..."

She sobs. I lovingly wipe a tear from her cheek, and I feel her relax on top of me.

"Can you take me to the emergency clinic for the morning after pill?" she whispers.

Stunned, I search her face for any sign that she isn't serious.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask. "You may not get pregnant anyway, but..."

"I don't want to miss the opportunity." With complete determination and a twinkle in her eye, she says:

"I want to do what you said. I want to do the naughty things I can't do with him."

She smiles at my slack jaw and wide eyes and, before I can find any words, she kisses me, lovingly, with increasing passion until she's writhing on top of me, my hands exploring and grasping her peachy bum.

She gives one last wiggle, then stands and shimmies her way to her wardrobe, swinging the doors open.

"You've got a fetish for heels, right?"

I shrug. "I like them, I don't know if I'd go so far as to say..." She smiles at me, knowingly. "Yeah, I guess," I confirm.

"Why don't you pick some for me to wear while you eat me out?" she winks.

I leap off the bed and cuddle her from behind, cupping and squeezing a breast. "You're the best, you know that, right?"

She shrugs and moans as I tweak a nipple and glance into her wardrobe. For a girl who doesn't wear heels very often, she's still got a decent selection.

"What, no thigh-high boots?" I tease.

"I'm not a hooker!" she protests.

"No, but do you have any idea how much money you could make if you were?"

She elbows me in the ribs and playfully pushes me away.

"I'm gonna buy you some," I say.

"No you're not!"

"Yes I am, and you can wear them with this," I hold up her Little Red Riding Hood costume, "and the world will explode from too much sexy."

"You want the world to explode?" she grins.

"No, but what a way to go."

"Pick some shoes," she says, "and I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"What kind of lesson?" I ask.

"You're going to lie down and I'm going to trample all over you!"

"Oh no," I say, " only Little Red Riding Hood in thigh-highs can do that."

She pauses, surprised. "I was only joking."

We're suddenly serious. "But you want to do it, right?"

She nods.

I smile. "Like I said, I'll try anything with you."

"Oh God." She leaps into my arms and kisses me, hard and with lots of tongue. I grab her bum tightly, feeling my dick start to stiffen, never wanting to let go.

She pulls herself away from me. "Now hurry up and pick some shoes or I'm going to pick for you. I'm dripping here."

I tear my attention to her wardrobe and the shelves stuffed with shoes. I quickly ignore a third of them that are clearly more "sensible" (for work etc) and scan the dressier majority. Peep-toe, strappy, platform, hidden-platform, kitten heel, high heel, round-toe, pointy-toe, black, blue, yellow, pink, nude...

...silver. There they are. My favourite pair that I've seen her wear a couple of times before. A classic pump in silver with a pointy-toe and approx 4-inch heel. I love it when she wears these.

I pick them up and Emma smiles. "I knew you'd pick them," she says with a naughty grin.

"How?"

"I've seen you looking when I've worn them before. A girl knows when she's being looked at."

I shrug, and she puts one hand against my chest to steady herself as she slips the sexy shoes on her petite feet. Immediately she's taller, and I feel closer to her somehow so I reach for her but she spins from my grasp and perches on the edge of the bed.

"You have to do something for me now," she purrs, and she slides her skirt down her long legs, kicking it off in a flash of her silver shoes.

As she sits back with her legs spread lewdly wide, I see her gash for the first time today and gasp as I notice she has shaven herself completely clean. Just as I had asked her to.

"I did it this morning. You said if I did, you'd never stop." She grins invitingly.

I run my fingers over her puffy mound, delighting in how smooth and wet she is. I bury my face in her crotch and she squeels with glee as I cover my face with the clear liquid dripping from her steaming cunt. It occurs to me that I'm also slurping my semen, but I'm so horny that I just don't care and, honestly, mixed with her juices, it doesn't taste too bad.

I take a breath. "Actually, what I said is that I'd never stop if you got a piercing down here." I nibble gently on her clit, and she shudders beneath me.

She looks down at me – long blonde hair loose over her face, lidded eyes, pouting lips, and fingers pinching her nipples – and I've never seen a sexier look from anyone.

"I might just do that."

I get on all fours and kiss her foot in its sexy silver shoe, running my tongue over it and around the stiletto heel, then up her leg, all the way up to her pussy and her clit, and I jam two fingers into her tight hole, slamming them in and out as hard and fast as I can.

"Tell me a fantasy... one of your fantasies," she mutters between gulps of air.

I'd better not start with the filthier ones... "I want to cum in all your holes."




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 02



I run a finger around her arsehole and she tenses, pulling away.

"I told you last time, not in my arse," she warns.

"But I can cum in your mouth?" I ask as I alternate pumping a finger from each hand into her pussy at high speed.

"Oh God!" she screams as she thrashes below me, and I tantalizingly slow down again. "Come on, make me cum!" she demands

"Tell me one of your fantasies."

She tries to force herself onto my fingers and mouth, but I pull away. "Tell me," I whisper.

"I want to do something in public," she moans, and I reward her by attacking her cunt with renewed vigour, my hand a blur as I suck on her clit.

She wraps her legs around me and digs her heels into my back and, to my surprise, I like it. I moan, and she digs them in harder, scratching at my spine.

I slowly slide a finger of my other hand to her arsehole and this time she doesn't complain. I circle it, teasingly.

"Oh God, I'm so close, please..."

With one firm push, I stick my finger all the way past her ring and she bursts, drenching my face with her delicious cum, and I drink as much as I can as she rides it out, a limp, uncontrollably-jerking goddess.

As she recovers very gradually, I move up alongside her and hug her to me, sharing the little tremors that continue through her. We both drift off...

***

When we awoke, we agreed to go out for dinner. I was surprised when she accepted my input into what she should wear (she's always been one to make her own mind up), and I'm waiting impatiently for her to finish getting ready. Not because she's been taking a long time, but because I just can't wait.

Finally, I hear footsteps at the top of the stairs and...

I make every effort I can to commit this moment to memory. She looks impossibly good. Her straight blonde hair has been curled and styled over one shoulder, away from her face that has been naturally made-up but with dark eye-liner that accentuates her alluring grey-blue eyes. The clingy electric-blue dress I chose plunges to show more of her captivating cleavage than I've ever seen her wear out, finishes several inches above her knees, and is pinched in at the waist by a wide black leather belt. This matches her handbag and... Oh my God... at the end of her lovely long legs are a pair of black Louboutin high heels of the type that so many celebs seem to wear to premieres and the like. 

She pauses halfway down the stairs and strikes a pose. "You like?" she asks, coquettishly.

It's all I can do to nod. She giggles. It takes until she reaches the bottom of the stairs for me to find any words. "Are those Louboutin's? Where were you hiding those earlier?"

She smiles. "They were still in their box. I've been saving them for a special occassion."

Hugely flattered, I hold her and kiss her, trying to communicate how much I love her with my lips. I wonder if tonight might be the time to tell her with words.

She spins away from me, teasing me. "We're going to be late."

She grabs a long black leather coat from its hook, and I run a hand down her svelte hip and over the smooth curve of her bottom, feeling for a trace of underwear that I can't find. "Did you...?"

She swats my hand away. "Just as you asked," she winks at me. "Listen, you need to behave yourself when we're out. There might be someone who knows me and The Boyfriend. Ok?"

She stares at me, waiting for an answer but knowing that I'd do anything she asked right now.

"Ok," I confirm.

"Let's go."

***

We had a lovely meal; we chatted like old times – about which exams her younger sister was going to take at school; how my manager was driving me crazy at work; how her brother was still telling her inappropriate details of his sex-life. It was great fun.

"Y'know, this kind of feels like a date."

I nod and smile. "Nice, isn't it?"

She smiles and picks up a menu. "Are you going to have dessert?" she asks.

"Yep." She holds a menu for me, but, "I already know what I'm going to have, thanks."

She tries to decide between the knickerbocker glory or the chocolate surprise as I enjoy, for the umpteenth time this evening, being able to ogle her gorgeousness openly and without shame.

"I wish you'd stop looking at me like that," she says.

"What do you mean?" I grin, talking to the vast amount of perfectly-curved tit-flesh pushed up almost obscenely out of her dress.

"Well, y'know, I'm not wearing any underwear," she whispers, "and every time you do, I..."

She's interrupted by the waiter. "Have you chosen anything for dessert?"

I look to Emma, who says, "Actually, I think I'll have something a little later, thank you."

The waiter nods and looks to me. "Nothing for me either, thanks."

"Very good." He hurries away.

"I thought you were having dessert?" she asks. "I was going to nick some of yours!"

I smile in a I-know-something-you-don't-know way, quickly scan the restaurant, and slide under the table.

"What you doing?" she whispers urgently, and she soon gets a clue as I kiss her ankle, then take the long sexy heel of her Louboutin into my mouth.

"Someone's going to see!" she peers under the table at me.

"They will if you draw attention to me. Just act calm and enjoy..." I give her what I hope is a sexy smile, pull her to the edge of the bench seat, and push her dress up – revealing her bare, swollen and drenched pussy to me.

"This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to do something in public," she whispers again, but at least this time she's sat up straight, acting the part.

"Maybe not, but it looks like you want it anyway." I lick up a drop that was running down her taught thigh, savouring the taste, then stick my tongue in her opening.

I know I need to be fast... 

Emma urgently pushes my head away and snaps her legs closed, and I hear the waiter asking if she wants anything else. Hurriedly, she tells him no, and I guess he wanders away because her legs drift open again.

"Be quick," she urges.

"If he comes back, don't try to stop me," I tell her. 

"You're mad," she breathes, as I slide two fingers into her and claw softly at her walls. She moans and squirms, sinking a little deeper on her seat.

"Hurry," she pleads, and then, "Finger my arse."

Never one to deny my lady, I tease her puckered rosebud and she swears, "Oh fuck, he's back..."

The waiter returns and, true to my word I don't stop. In fact, I go harder, sucking her clit into my mouth and nibbling, and I'd be surprised if everyone can't hear the squishing of my fingers pounding into her pussy.

I hear Emma say, in a wavering voice, "My boyfriend will be back in second, he's got the credit card," and I love hearing her refer to me as her boyfriend so much, that I plunge my index finger up her arsehole to the hilt.

She lets out a little yelp and cums, bucking her hips into my face and knocking me back onto the seat of my pants. Her legs spasm uncontrollably, nearly kicking me, and I hope she's doing a better job of hiding it on the top half of her body.

I wait two, maybe three, minutes for her to calm and ease her dress back down her legs. She whispers, "It's clear," and I hastily nip from under the table and retake my seat, smiling at her, drinking in her freshly-fucked look. Her chest, on such glorious display in her deep-cut dress, is flushed red, as are her cheeks; and her breathing is still a little ragged.

She stands on unsteady legs and says, "I'm going to the bathroom, I'll meet you by the car." She hurries across the restaurant, and I can see glistening trails of cum running down the inside of her legs and a small damp patch on her dress. Men and women alike turn to watch her pass, which isn't unusual, but I wonder if they can smell the sex on her as I still can on my fingers.

That's the most fun I've ever had without cumming myself. I'm not sure life can get much better.

***

I lean against my car, trying to look casual as she marches across the car park to me. She's avoiding looking at me, and I wonder if I may have gone too far. 

I try to lighten the mood. "So you're getting to quite like a finger up the arse, eh?"

"You bastard!" she accuses, swatting me on the arm, but she can't maintain a straight face and breaks into a broad grin. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"Liked it, huh?" I laugh.

She hits me again. "That is not what I meant when I said I wanted to try something in public."

"Well, what did you mean? I'm open to suggestions." I wink. I can't believe how my confidence is soaring. Knowing a girl like Emma is into you – I could hardly be down on myself, could I?

"Why did you think I made you park all the way over here when we came in?" she asks.

I look around. This part of the car park is virtually empty; we could have parked right outside the door, but Emma insisted on the dark corner surrounded on two sides by trees.

I shrug. In mock exasperation, she takes my hand and leads me around the car so it blocks the view to the restaurant. Then she slowly lowers herself to her haunches, her face level with my dick which is still semi-hard from dessert.

"You wanted to cum in my mouth," she purrs.

I stare down at her in shock. "Best. Date. Ever," I whisper to her, as she unzips my fly and unwraps my rapidly-hardening cock.

Warily, she licks at the tip and, seemingly satisfied, takes me into her hot, wet mouth.

It feels abso-fucking-lutely amazing.

She bobs her head back and forth, her tongue rubbing against the underside of my dick. She's good. Really good.

"I thought you never gave blowjobs?" I ask.

She lets my pole pop out of her mouth. "I never give The Boyfriend blowjobs. He never goes down on me, so why should I go down on him?" She resumes sucking, eagerly.

"Oh God, I'm not gonna last much longer. How did you get so good?"

Slightly miffed, she again stops. "I sucked a lot of guys before we met. Now, do you want to talk, or would you rather I..." and she buries her face as far as she can, a couple of inches short of my full length.

I groan and thrust back at her, making her gag slightly. I didn't mean that and check she's ok, but she takes it in her stride.

"Look at me," I urge, and our eyes lock, and our souls touch, and I know I will belong to her forever. Her head bobs into my groin even faster, and I try to hold back, prolong the sensation.

She removes my dick and wanks it furiously. "Hurry up and cum in my mouth so we can go home and complete the trilogy." 

Her eyes sparkle, my heart leaps, and my orgasm hits me – firing my hot load between Emma's willing lips. I hold onto my car for dear life as my legs buckle, but I hold her stare and my eyes tell her I love her, and hers tell me the same.

She lets my rod fall from her lips and shows me my seed pooled in her mouth. To my surprise, though perhaps I shouldn't be by now, she swallows.

"Oh God. You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"

She smiles that impossibly naughty smile, and a cum drop falls from her chin and lands on the inside of her breast. She reaches to wipe it up but I stop her. "Leave it there," I say, grinning.

She stands and we kiss, wet and passionate and full of tongue. I can taste my cum but instead of putting me off, it just turns me on more.

"Did you mean what you said? About the trilogy?" I ask.

She just smiles at me, totters around the other side of the car in her high heels, and gets in.

I can see through the windscreen that she already has her dress up around her waist and one dainty digit is running up and down her outer lips.

Thank God it's a short journey back to her place.

I clamber into the car, fire up the engine and wheelspin out of the car park.

Emma giggles. "No need to rush, cowboy, I'm not going to change my mind."

I slow back to within 20mph of the speed limit, but still can't help myself. I swear as we have to stop at traffic lights.

A big rig pulls alongside us and, instead of stopping and covering herself, Emma surprises me again by lifting her Louboutin-clad feet onto the dashboard and begins forcing first one, then two fingers into her tight arsehole.

We both groan. I'm transfixed by the dirty sight in my passenger seat, but Emma's not looking at me. She's staring out the window at the truck driver.

"Oh God, I've never been so horny," she gasps. "The lights are green, GO!" she urges, and I floor the accelerator, the truck driver left to hoot his horn behind us.

I turn the tight corner into her street, the tyres protesting.

She reluctantly covers herself. "Remember, behave until we're inside."

"You don't think the neighbours will already be wondering why you've got another man staying the night while The Boyfriend's away?" I ask.

"Maybe, but there's no need to make it obvious for them."

I swing the car into her driveway and abandon the car, not caring that it's my worst piece of parking ever.

Emma, infuriatingly, plays it cool. She totters slowly to the front door and searches far longer than she needs to in her tiny clutch bag for her keys.

"If you don't hurry up," I whisper, "I'm going to do you right here."

She groans. "Maybe next time," and opens the door.

I slam it behind me and reach for her, but she's already climbing the stairs.

I follow but, halfway up, she stops and spreads her legs to the full width of the stairs. Her dress rides up and she slides it the rest of the way over her glorious arse, and I come eye to eye with her previously-forbidden hole.

She wiggles in front of me, enticingly, and I move forward to lick her but she moves up another two steps.

She drops her belt, unzips the back of her dress and shimmies out of it, throwing it into my face. I breathe in her scent, then focus on the naked body swaying in front of me.

I take a second to appreciate the full glory in front of me – every perfect curve, the way her thighs don't quite meet at the top, the two dimples in her lower back that I've always found sexy.

She looks back at me, maybe wondering why I'm not ravishing her. I wake and she sees the same thought flash through my mind; and she reacts too quickly and skips up the last few stairs and into her bedroom before I can grab her.

I walk slowly, savouring the anticipation. I reach the doorway and nearly have a heart attack.

Emma is on her knees on her bed, face lying against the sheets, gazing back at me, naked but for her hot high heels; her bum stuck lewdly up in the air and her hands pulling her arse cheeks apart.

"Please, I want you to have my last virginity."

I push my trousers down and tear my shirt off, sending buttons tinkling around the room. Emma giggles, my favourite sound, and circles my target with her finger.

I stand behind her and take aim.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask, my pole pushed against her hole.

She stares into my eyes, full of sincerity. "That first night, after our first time, I used a vibrator on myself. That was the first time I put anything up there. Ever since, I've dreamt of it being you."

Tears of joy sting my eyes. "I love you," I tell her.

She smiles. "I love you too."

I push, but she's too tight. "Don't worry about hurting me," she whispers, "Just fuck my arse with your big dick."

I take a hold of her hips with one hand, my cock in the other, and I force myself past her sphincter. She gasps and I hold still, no more than a couple of inches inside her.

She steadies her breathing and moves herself back onto my rod, easing further and further. Each inch is heavenly, until my whole length is inside her.

I start to move back out but she stops me: "No wait," she fumbles in her purse and hands me her phone. "Take a pic of it all the way up there."

I shake my head in disbelief. She explains: "The first time in my pussy was forgettable – I don't want to forget this."

I take the photo as she asked, quickly send it to my own phone, and ask, "Where have you been hiding this slut all these years?"

"Slut? Oh yeah, I like that. Call me a slut again," she pants as I move slowly in and out of her arsehole.

"You're a slut. A dirty slut who likes it up the arse."

"Oh God, yes I am."

She humps back against me, and I speed up my thrusts to match the speed she's rubbing her clit.

I could die happy right now. Nothing can feel better than this.

"Fuck my arse. Fuck it! Harder!" she screams, and I pound into her as hard as I can, our thighs slapping together several times a second.

I pause for a breather but she keeps forcing herself back onto me, moaning constantly now.

"You'd look incredibly hot with a little tattoo right here," I tell her, carressing the small of her back, just above the tip of her arse crack. "A tramp stamp for my slut."

"YOUR slut? Ooh yeah," she moans. "If it means you'll do this to me again, I'll do it. I'll do anything."

I grasp her hips again and plough into her, taking control, forcing her face further into the bed.

"Oh God, I LOVE HAVE FUCKING COCK UP MY ARSE!" she yells, and I feel that familiar tingle.

"I'm getting close," I warn.

"Yes, cum up my slutty little arsehole! C'mon baby, cum for Emma. Fill me up! Fill me. Fill me," she continues chanting until...

"Here it comes," I grunt, and I swear I see stars and the planets and Emma floating toward me like an angel as my load pours into her; and she feels it too, and it triggers an orgasm in her like I have never seen or felt. Her interior walls pulsate like she has a vibrator up there, and cum fires out from her, soaking the bed. She loses complete control of her body and collapses, her limbs flapping wildly, her arse only being held in the air by me and my dick.

So I wait, enjoying the incredible feeling of being so far inside the naughtiest hole of the woman I love. Slowly, I shrink and, as I pull out of her, she opens her eyes and smiles back at me.

"How does it look?" she asks.

I pick up her phone and take a snap of my cum dribbling out of her gaping anus. I show it to her and she grins.

She runs her fingers around her rim, wiping up the semen that was sliding down to her soaked cunt, and sucks it into her mouth.

I move to lie on the bed next to her, and we kiss. Our first kiss after declaring our love for each other. She lies back and smiles contentedly.

"Well, that's today's fantasy, what are we going to do tomorrow?" 



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 03



I awake with Emma in my arms, gazing at me with love in her eyes.

"Good morning," she smiles, and all the incredible events of yesterday flood back into my mind.

"Yes it is, you gorgeous creature," I reply, and she giggles. I kiss her, tenderly.

"Nice dream?" she asks. "You were smiling in your sleep."

"It was wonderful -- I was dreaming about you."

She smiles and kisses me. "Good answer."

"You were being a naughty girl."

"Really? That doesn't sound like me," she says with a sly grin.

"I was dreaming about all those guys you said you sucked off when you were younger."

"Ah, that would explain this, then." She grasps my engorged prick with her delicate hand.

I groan. "Tell me about it. Your first time and all your cock-sucking!"

She squeezes my dick. "It wasn't that many!"

"Tell me."

"Ok. My first time was terrible. It was with my first proper boyfriend. We'd been together about eight months and he was drunk, and it just hurt, and he came inside me so I was panicked thinking I'd get pregnant..."

"How old were you?" I interrupt.

"Fourteen. Nearly fifteen." She shrugs. "It was a mistake, and it put me right off! After that, I went out with my friends a lot more -- like five nights a week -- and because they were always hooking up with guys, I kind of did the same. But because I thought I didn't like sex, I blew them instead."

"You must have been popular!" I say.

She shrugs, embarrassed. "I don't know. I stopped doing it when I woke up in some strange guy's bed with no memory of how I got there. He told me we fucked and I just completely started crying and everything..." She shakes her head at the memory. "I must have still been drunk 'cos he convinced me to do it again. And that was the first time I liked it."

She's still slowly, leisurely stroking my dick. I reach between her legs, finding her moist clam, and I gently play, slipping a finger inside.

"So how many guys have you had sex with?" I breathe.

"You were lucky thirteen," she says, wiggling her groin on my finger.

"So you're not so much of a slut after all, then?" I wink.

"Well, I met The Boyfriend fairly soon after, so..." I slide a second finger into her. "I sucked off a lot more."

"How many?"

"I don't know exactly..." she whimpers.

"Tell me," I whisper.

"Forty or fifty, maybe."

I pull her on top of me and spin her around so we're in a 69, and I bury my face in her soaking pussy. She keeps stroking my cock, but faster now, and she licks it from base to tip. 

"Actually, it was more like seventy," she mumbles.

I start thrusting up into her mouth as I force three fingers into her tight cunt.

"Oh God," she screams, "it was over a hundred."

I hammer my fingers into her. She pumps my pole hard.

"And for most of them," she pants, "I swallowed their cum."

"SLUT!" I shout as we orgasm together, my ejaculate filling her mouth, and her's drenching mine. I enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss, caressing her bum and covering it with little kisses, as she fondles my cock until it softens.

She turns back to lie alongside me, shows me my semen in her mouth, and swallows with a wide grin.

"You're my naughty, sexy, dirty little slut, aren't you?" I cuddle her to me.

She sits up, suddenly serious. "Yeah, about that," she says.

Oh no.

"Listen, you have to know that I love you, I really do..." she begins.

I finish, "...but you don't want to leave The Boyfriend."

She smiles sympathetically. "Not yet. I might, I don't know. I hope you understand it's a big risk for me. We've been together twelve years, we've got this house and... I do love him."

I nod. I don't know what to say.

"This doesn't change what we were going to do today. Y'know, if we can spend that week together, I really think I'll be able to make the right decision. I could make a decision now but it might not be the right one. Do you think you can be patient for me?" she earnestly searches for my eyes, but I don't want to look at her in case I cry.

"Anything for you," I whisper.

She smiles and hugs me, and I hold her tight, not wanting to let go.

***

I'm waiting in the car, around the corner from the emergency clinic, while Emma gets the morning after pill. She's been gone 45 minutes already, it'll be lunchtime soon if she doesn't hurry...

Here she comes, sashaying across the road, and I take a moment to enjoy the view. She's wearing a summery, flowery, floaty, strapless maxi dress, with a thin belt that emphasises her slim waist and accentuates her bodacious bosom. The dress flows down to the ankle straps of her heeled sandals. Her hair's clipped back away from her beautiful face and flows loose around her bare shoulders, and fashionable huge sunglasses hide her eyes that I know have a hint of the dark eye-liner that I told her make her grey-blues look extra smoking hot.

And with the morning British summer sun shining from directly behind, her dress is slightly translucent, and I can see what I already knew -- no underwear. She's so fucking sexy, even when in girly-girl cute mode.

I get out of the car and ask, "Everything ok?"

She nods and smiles. "The shop is a couple of streets down, we can walk it."

"Ok," I reply, and we set off. I let my hand drift down to her swaying bottom and rest it there, but she swats it away.

"Behave yourself when we're in public!" she playfully scolds.

I make an act of sulking, which makes her giggle, but I do as she asks.

We reach the shop quicker than I thought. There's nothing outside to give away what it is -- the windows are blacked out and it doesn't even have a name.

We walk inside, my eyes adjusting to the gloom. It seems we're the only customers. This front section of the store is mostly magazines and dvds, but it goes back a surprisingly long way, and I can see a plethora of sex toys and kinky clothing. The young student behind the front desk tries to act cool, but I can see him eyeing up Emma.

"How did you know about this place?" I ask her.

"This is where Cathy brought me to look for that bridesmaids dress, remember?"

Cathy is Emma's firecracker of a friend that I've never met -- but have heard plenty of dirty tales about. She's also the girl who wanted Emma to wear a pink latex tube dress to her wedding.

"Is it here? I'm buying you that dress!" I tell her.

She giggles. "I remember the way your eyes boggled when I first told you about that."

"I'll be honest," I say, "the idea of you wearing that dress with your silver high heels has fueled more wanking sessions than anything else."

She blushes and leads me to the back of the store. "The boots are back here, let's get what we came here for first."

I'm pleasantly surprised by the range and variety they've got. "Which ones do you like?" she asks.

"They have to be over the knee," I say. She rolls her eyes with a grin. "Shiny black, pointy toe, not platform, but with a high heel..."

There are a few styles with that description. The question is, what material? I'm vetoing suede, but can't decide between leather or latex.

"Ok, well these latex ones, I don't think there's any time I could ever wear them out. But these," she picks up a pair of matt leather ones, "I dunno, maybe over a pair of jeans?"

"I said they've got to be shiny."

She shrugs and, as she pushes some to one side to put them back, I spot the perfect pair.

"We have a winner."

The student from the front desk has shuffled up behind us. "Er, can I help you with anything?" he stutters.

"Yeah, thanks, do you have these in a size 5 please?" I ask.

"I'll go and have a look." He trots off.

"Y'know, he looks a little familiar," says Emma.

"If he knew who you were, he'd probably have said something," I say, trying to put her mind at rest.

"I dunno, he did kind of stare when I walked in, maybe we know each other."

"He stared at you because you're a cute, gorgeous woman walking into a sex shop. It wouldn't surprise me if he's back there right now whacking off."

Emma laughs and swats my arm, just as he returns.

"Do you want any help trying them on?" he asks.

"No," says Emma, but I immediately over-rule her.

"Yes, that would be great thanks."

She shoots daggers at me, to which I smile and wink, but she sits down (a little carefully, her bum is still sore from last night) and unties her sandals whilst the student unpacks the boots.

He unzips and holds one open for her, and she slides a petite foot into the sexy leather. She winces.

The student immediately apologises profusely, "I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I'm really..."

"No, no, it's ok, I've just got this problem with my foot. It hurts when I bend it but it's usually ok once I've got them on."

The student breathes a sigh of relief but is quickly distracted as Emma starts lifting her long dress so he can put the boot on. His eyes are fixed between her legs and, although she's trying to keep them together as much as possible, he must be getting at least a partial view of her newly-shaven slit.

Her foot is about in, but the student is struggling with the zip. Emma notcies where the student is looking and again scolds me with her eyes, but I'm enjoying watching.

"I think they're too small," Emma finally says, "have you got the next size up?"

"I think so, lemme check," stutters the student, who slips the boot back off, throws it back its box, and hurries away, trying to hide his obvious erection.

"When he comes back, have a quick peek -- he's got wood." I grin.

"You are so naughty," Emma tells me, shaking her head but not able to hide her smile.

"Me? You knew we were coming to get these boots, and you chose to go without underwear..."

"That was your idea!" she protests. 

I laugh as the student returns with another box strategically carried in front of his groin.

"Genius," I silently mouth to Emma, pointing at myself, and again she shakes her head.

This time she doesn't wait, pulls her dress above her knees and halfway up her thighs, and stares at me defiantly, sticking her tongue out.

I'm trying not to laugh at the student as he struggles to get the boot unzipped without tearing his eyes from Emma's crotch. Amusing as this is, I'm hard too.

He holds the boot out for her, and again she winces as she slides into the leather. The zip goes up much easier this time, and the student runs his hands along the boots to smooth them out, taking a little longer than is really necessary.

"How does that feel?" he asks, and I smile at the double meaning.

"Really nice, actually," replies Emma, and I'm not sure which question she's answering. I notice her legs seem to have fallen a little further apart though, and her dress is a little higher up her thighs.

The student quickly helps her with the other boot, zipping it and smoothing it out, and he doesn't stop until I say: "Why don't you try walking in them?" and as he stands, disappointed, I whisper to him, "Give us a minute, ok?"

He nods and vanishes, probably to watch Emma on the security monitors.

Emma walks up and down the aisle, the 5-inch heels making her look really tall and slim, sticking out her bum and tightening her tummy.

"In that dress," I tell her, "they could be ankle boots for all anyone knows."

"Pretty slutty ankle boots," she says, "except they're not, they're full-on hooker boots."

The pointy toe, the wet-look material and the thin, high high heel all scream sex. I love them.

"Pull your dress up, let's see them properly."

She gathers the dress, easing it up her legs. The boots fit snugly all the way to the top, accentuating the shape of her lovely legs, and reach a good few inches above her knees.

"They are fucking hot. You are fucking hot." I say. "Do you like them?"

"I don't know when I'd wear them." she shrugs.

"Fuck that. Do you like them?"

"Actually, I really do. I'm surprised, but... they feel really sexy."

I smile. Excellent.

"I swear that kid could see how wet I was getting," she giggles.

"You gave him quite a treat!" I laugh, picking up her sandles. "Now, let's see about that bridesmaids dress."

Emma sighs. "You're encouragable."

She quickly leads us to the correct section and finds the dress, but...

"They don't have it in my size," she says.

"You're fucking kidding me." I'm gutted, but grab one anyway. "We'll see if they can order one in."

It does look incredibly fucking hot -- a very short, very tight, not-quite translucent pink latex tube, basically. I could easily believe someone could wear it as a skirt. As a dress, it will barely cover anything.

We continue toward the front of the store but Emma stops suddenly. In the butt-plug section.

I slide my spare hand around her waist and over her pert bottom, giving it a little squeeze. "So last night isn't going to be a one time thing, eh?" I tease.

"Did I tell you about my friend Mandy? We were at lunch at work one day, and she started telling me about this guy she picked up that weekend and, apparently, he fisted her arse!"

"Seriously?!"

"Yeah! Why she felt the need to tell me this, I have no idea, but I always kind of doubted her. But looking at some of these..." she points at some of the larger butt-plugs on display.

"I'll get you one if you want one."

She peruses the selection, and picks up a monster that's 8 inches around at its widest point.

"See, I don't think there's any way I could ever fit that up there. You felt huge."

"I guess you build up to it. Why don't you get a couple of different sizes and see how you go?"

She nods and, after a couple of seconds of thought, hurriedly picks up a smallish metal plug and decent-sized black inflatible plug. She smiles at me, embarrassed, and totters to the front desk. I grab some lube for her, and follow.

The student's eyes pop out of his head as Emma puts the anal toys on the counter.

"These, the boots, and this dress in a size 8, if you can get that in please?" I say.

"Um, yeah, we can do that, er, but we can have it made to order if you like, so it, er, fits as you want it?" he stammers.

"Ok, yeah, let's do that," I say.

He can't suppress his glee as he grabs his tape measure.

"Let me just get some measurements."

Emma rolls her eyes at me but looks amused as the student fumbles around measuring her trim waist and flared hips, then seems really unsure of himself as he does her chest, brushing her breasts more than once. I can see her hard nipples poking through her summer dress.

"Ok," he says as he runs the tape down from her armpit, "now you're pretty tall, and the dress would normally be about 24 inches long, which would end here," and he puts his finger high on her thigh. "Is that ok?"

"Yes," says Emma.

"No," says I. "Show us 22 inches."

"Oh my God," Emma laughs, "you can't be serious?"

"You can wear it a little lower at the top too," I smile.

The student holds his finger at 22 inches, and I like what I see. "How far does it come down at the back?" I ask.

He moves the tape around. "Twenty two inches would be here," he says, running a finger just below her arse, copping a feel again. I think I hear a slight moan from Emma, and she steps forward.

"I think that'll do," she says.

"Ok," I say, "make it at twenty inches."

Emma just laughs while the student writes down the details.

"That will be one hundred and forty pounds for the dress..."

"Oh my God, you can't spend that," Emma says, "I'll never even wear it out."

"It's worth it," I tell her. To the student: "Is it ok if she wears the boots now?"

"Yes, I just need to get the price and security tags off. They're on the zip." Which is, of course, halfway up Emma's thigh.

Emma grins and, without waiting to be asked, lifts her dress above her waist, far higher than she needs to, her cunt on display to the whole store, red, wet and swollen. I'm slightly disappointed there are no other customers to enjoy it.

The student is frozen, lost in a trance, until Emma's tinkling giggle wakes him, and he hurriedly cuts the tags off the boots.

"And the boots are one hundred and twenty," he says, and I nod, nonchalantly.

As I pay, Emma fills out her address details on the form for the dress order, and the student puts her butt-plugs in an unmarked bag.

"Thanks for your help," I say as we turn to leave.

"Thank you," he replies, a little too enthusiastically, and then "See ya, Emma."

She freezes. "How do you know my name?" she asks, puzzled.

"I'm Alan -- I went to school with your brother, remember?"

"Oh my God, I knew I knew you!" Her face blushes a fierce shade of red, and I have to push her out of the door.

Outside, she's all a-fluster.

"Oh no, no, no, what if he tells The Boyfriend? Or my brother?! Oh shit, shit, shit..."

"It's ok," I tell her, "if they disown you, I'll take you in."

Shocked, she stares at me. "This is serious."

"It's alright, honestly..."

"How can you say that? He saw my pussy! Worse, I SHOWED him my pussy! Oh God." Then, suddenly, a light bulb switches on in her head. "Wait here."

She disappears back inside. Tempted as I am to follow, she told me to wait and I know better than to disobey her when she's in this kind of mood.

It's only three minutes later that Emma hurries back out, grabs my hand and leads me away from the shop, her heels clicking quickly on the pavement.

"Everything ok?" I ask.

"I know this quiet little place around the corner, maybe we can get through lunch without somebody I know seeing me naked."

***

Emma drains her glass, her second of the meal, and starts on the third that she'd already ordered. She hasn't said a word except to order food and drink since we left the shop, and it doesn't seem like she wants to. 

I must admit, she's brought us to a nice place. We're on one of three tables outside, but it's sheltered from the people walking past by a head-height (when you're sat down) hedge. The waitress clears the dishes from the only other table that was occupied, and leaves us alone.

"Are you ok?" I ask Emma.

"I don't know," she says.

"I'm sure he won't tell anyone we went in there."

"I'm sure he won't too, now," she says.

"What did you say to him?"

"You'll hate me if I tell you." Her eyes fill up, and she blinks rapidly, trying to stop from crying.

"Hey," I say, taking her hand, "nothing could make me hate you. No-thing. I love you and I always will."

She smiles meekly, takes a deep, wavering breath, and blurts out, "I sucked him off and said if he told anyone, I'd tell his girlfriend."

My face must have been a picture. A picture of genuine shock.

"And you know the worst thing?" she continues, "It's not that I blackmailed him, it's not that I cheated on The Boyfriend again, and it's not that I feel like I cheated on you..."

She looks me in the eye, and I can see how sorry she is.

"...it's that I'm still so fucking turned on."

"That's a bad thing?" I ask.

"Of course it is!" she cries. "I went behind the back of the people I love, and I enjoyed it!"

She wipes a stray tear from her cheek. I lift her hand and kiss it.

"Emma, I don't care. In fact, I love that you enjoyed it."

She looks at me, confused.

"I don't mind you doing these things. Did you see me trying to stop him from looking up your dress when putting the boots on?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I don't understand. Why don't you mind? The Boyfriend's always trying to get me to cover up."

"I reckon he's just scared that someone else will steal you away from him, so he tries to hide you. But you're too beautiful and too fucking hot for that." She blushes. "As far as I'm concerned, as long as you came home to me afterward, you could do anything, or anyone, you wanted."

Her jaw drops. "You can't be serious?"

"I swear to you. I just want to see you happy. It's why I agreed to give you a baby even though it would kill me inside that you were bringing it up with him. You could come home having gangbanged a stadium full of guys, but as long as you actually came home to me..." I shrug. "I find it really very fucking hot."




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 03



"So..." she says, and I feel her booted foot against my hard cock under the table, and she smiles, "...you're as turned on as I am right now?"

"You have no idea," I tell her.

She smiles at me wickedly, and it's so good to see, that I can't help grinning like an idiot.

"I'm not gonna do any gangbangs or anything, I'm happy just with you," she says, "but it's nice to know I have your permission to be naughty occassionally."

And, as if to celebrate, she pulls the top of her dress down to flash her tits at me, covering herself again quickly.

We both look around, checking there's no-one around.

The restaurant is empty. We can hear people walking past on the pavement the other side of the hedge -- if they stopped and peeked through a gap in the leaves, they'd be able to see us, but...

I reach across the table and pull her dress down again, leaving it below her ridonkulous rack. I hold both her hands, so to a casual observer it would look like we're gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, but I don't want her to cover herself.

"You are hottest fucking woman in the world," I tell her.

"Are you going under the table again? Because I promise I won't hit you like I did last night if you do."

I let go of her hands and am pleased to see she doesn't adjust her dress, and leaves her breasts free.

"I think your dress needs an alteration, it seems such as shame that no-one can see those fantastic boots," I say, grabbing a knife from the table. "You don't mind, do you?"

She eyes me suspiciously, but nevertheless shrugs and smiles. 

I move from the chair opposite her to the seat next to her, and reach for the hem of her dress. "I think you should have a slit in this; show a bit of leg."

I saw at the flimsy material with the knife until the hem gives, and it tears easily now.

"Not too high," she warns.

"Well," I say, gently pulling at the fabric, slowly creating a slit that runs up the outside of her right leg, "I think it should at least go as high as the boots. I think an inch or two of thigh above them would be good?"

"That sounds high enough," she smiles.

The slit lengthens, and more and more of her sexy boots come into view, until I reach the top. I run a finger along her bare thigh, and she shudders and whispers, "I'm so wet right now."

"Oh God," I mutter, "I think it would look good if it was another inch or two higher. What do you think?"

"Only another inch," she breathes.

My trembling hands take hold and I pull, and the slit grows another six inches, up level with her groin. I push the flowery fabric to the side and her glorious pussy is exposed. We both moan.

Suddenly, voices and footsteps from behind as new customers are being shown to the table beside ours. Emma swiftly pulls her dress up to cover her tits and crosses her legs, which hides her cunt but shows an obscene amount of tanned thigh.

"I think it's time we got back," I say, and Emma nods in agreement, quickly gathering her things.

***

I paid the bill and we're walking briskly back to my car. Emma holds the front of her dress together so it doesn't fly open so much at the slit -- I swat her hand away.

She lowers her head, a little shy, but leaves the dress to float about her leather-clad legs, so nearly showing a lot more.

"You remember what you promised me if I got these boots?" she whispers.

"Yep. I'm looking forward to it," I tell her.

"I'm looking forward to it, MISTRESS," she says, encouraging me to repeat after her.

"I'm looking forward to it, Mistress Emma. Anything your ladyship pleases."

She smiles and speeds up, taking my hand and pulling me along until we're back in the street I parked on.

We reach my car and she takes a quick look around. It's deserted.

She leans back against the passenger door and pulls her dress to the side, revealing the inside of her soaking-wet thighs and her dripping slit.

"I need to cum, now."

She pushes me to my knees, though I don't need much encouragement, and I go to town on her hairless pussy.

"Oh God yeah, this won't take long," she says, and pulls the top of her dress down, displaying her gorgeous globes, pinching her hard nipples.

I lift her leg and put her foot on the wing mirror, opening her up. The dress is in the way so I yank at it, and it rips up past her navel to her sexy butterfly tattoo.

I stuff two, then three fingers inside her cunt, pumping them hard and she moans loud and long, then screams as her pent-up horniness finally finds some release, drenching my face in her orgasm.

I lick up as much as I can, then stand and hold her -- I love this when she's cum, I can feel all the little trembles and aftershocks, it's like I'm sharing it with her.

She kisses me, tired but happy. "I don't taste too bad, huh?"

"I fucking love the way you taste," I say, and I rub my face all over hers, smearing her juices between us until she's giggling.

"I don't suppose you could help me out?" I ask, looking down at the tent in my trousers.

She pulls her dress back over her breasts. "Maybe when we get home," she teases, "Though I'm not promising. You'll do anything to make me happy, remember? I never said the same!"

We get in the car, and she immediately starts rubbing herself. I laugh. "Still horny?"

"God yes. Now, let's go -- you ruined my dress so I think I'm going to have to teach you a lesson!"

***

When a teacher tells you she's going to teach you a lesson, it's not normally a good thing. But when that teacher is Emma... she can teach me all she wants.

I made a promise. And when she's finished getting ready, I'm going to keep it.

Not that I'll have much choice. I'm currently sprawled out naked on the living room floor, my hands cuffed (I love that she already had a pair stashed away!) and my legs tied wide open, each to a foot of the sofa.

And my dick is pointing in the air.

I hear her heels coming down the stairs, painfully slowly. I strain to see, to try to catch a glimpse.

Eventually, she struts into view and strikes a coy pose, biting her fingernail -- and my breath catches in my throat. I've never seen anything so hot in all my life.

She's wearing her Little Red Riding Hood costume -- a tiny red dress with white lace trim and a black bodice tied so tight around her narrow waist that her fabulous boobs nearly spill out the top; the red hood pulled up over her curled blonde hair; deep-red lipstick and heavy dark eye make-up that's way over the decency-line and firmly in "prostitute" territory; and the finishing touch -- the boots I picked for her.

"Fuck me!" I exclaim.

"I intend to," she purrs, "but first, a little fun..."

She takes one step closer and pauses again, teasing me. I can now see up the frilly black skirt, and she's not wearing anything underneath.

"Oh God. I love your pussy shaved like that, Mistress."

"Thank you, Slave," she smiles. "I still think it looks a little bare," as she rubs a finger over it, separating her lips, "but I love the way it feels."

"I love the way it feels too."

She grins. "Cheeky." She steps between my legs, standing near my groin. "You should be more careful what you say when you're tied up."

Testingly, teasingly, she rubs the toe of her boots over my balls. It feels so good that I can't help but moan.

"Did I tell you to make any noise?" she scolds, light-heartedly.

"No Mistress. Sorry Mistress."

"Do you like my outfit?" she asks.

"Best thing I've ever seen," I blurt out.

"You haven't even seen it from the back yet." She pirouettes and it's all I can do not to cum right there. The dress only covers half her perfect bum and, from my angle, I can see all of it.

Including the metal butt-plug she's got stuffed up her tight arsehole.

She looks over her shoulder at me. "Is it ok?"

"You'd better not touch my dick or I'll cum."

She giggles. "You'll cum when I tell you to, not before." She bends at the waist, looking back at me through her straightened legs, and blows at my dick. The gentle breeze is almost enough, and I have to shut my eyes and really concentrate not to cum right now. She giggles again.

Then, without warning, she puts one stilettoed foot onto my stomach and transfers her weight onto it for a couple of seconds, standing on me. It hurts, but I don't care.

She does it again, but this time steps on so her other foot is on my chest. I thank my lucky stars that she's so light and trim, but it's still painful.

And yet somehow enjoyable.

She steps off, examining the red marks left on my chest from her heels. "Oh, poor baby," she coos, and kisses each of them better. "Again?"

"Yes please, Mistress."

She smiles and steps onto my chest again, this time digging one of heels into my side. As a reflex, I recoil and nearly throw her off me.

"Keep still bitch," she spits, really getting into it now, and digs her heel into me again. This time I take it.

She twists her heel and it stings, and burns, but I don't move. To my own surprise, I groan.

Emma's surprised too. "Oh, you like that do you?"

Without warning, she kicks my vertical pole. I wince, but it feels good. She kicks me again; and a third time, harder.

She walks up and down my torso. I hope she appreciates the effort this is taking not to spin away from the pain, but I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter if I like it or not. She's done so much for me. This is nothing.

She stands on my chest and presses on of her 5-inch heels against my cheek, stabbing it.

"Swallow this, slave."

I open my mouth and eagerly take the heel inside, sucking on it. She fucks my mouth with it; laughs and takes it away, and walks off me.

"I think you were enjoying that a little too much," and kicks me in the dick at full force. It hurts like fucking hell and I try to protect myself as best I can considering my bindings. Which is to say, not well, because Emma gives me two more powerful punts with the point of her toe, then jabs her heel into my ball sack.

I cry out in pain.

She kneels beside me, stroking my face, comforting me, "Oh baby, I'm sorry, hush, hush."

She unties my legs, which I move and stretch, and then uncuffs my hands. I stand, uncomfortable and unsteady.

She takes my hand and leads me to the glass coffee table, using me to keep balance as she steps on top of it. Then she cuffs my hands behind my back and orders: "Kneel."

I do. She squats, pulls me closer, and lays my dick on the table top. Uh-oh, this can't be good.

Using the toe of her boot, she presses my somehow-still-hard dick into the hard surface. It hurts, but not as much as I thought, and is actually pretty hot. The sight of her insanely sexy boot on my dick is a major turn-on, as is the click of her heels against the glass.

She puts her hand on my head, steadies herself, and puts all her weight on my dick. Though still sore, it's so hard, it stands up pretty well. She wiggles back and forward, which feels really good.

She steps off, giggling, then teases my rod with the heel of her boot. She puts some weight on with the point, and the pressure of that stiletto hurts a lot more, pain shooting up my dick. I struggle.

"Stay still," she orders, and stamps on me.

"Fuck!" I scream out and pull away.

"Hey! Get back here this second!"

Slightly hesitantly, I do.

"We're going to keep doing this until you can do it without making a noise, ok?" she tells me.

I nod, "Yes Mistress".

She lines me up, teasing me, running her heel along my length.

Then stamps on me with her heel, suddenly. I can't help but grunt at the pain.

She sighs. And does it three more times, quick and sharp, and though it hurts more than the others put together, I keep quiet. Or it might be that my scream was so high-pitched it could only have been heard by dogs.

"Ok," she says, and I collapse onto my side, really struggling to hold back tears. She lands next to me, crouching, consoling.

"How about I kiss it better?" she whispers.

I shift to allow her access and wince as she puts my cock straight to the back of her throat, her saliva initially stinging where the skin has been damaged, but it soon becomes soothing and feels fantastic. I moan.

She purrs: "I'm so wet, I can't believe you let me do that to you."

I shift to stare into her eyes. "What will it take until you believe I'll do anything for you?"

She smiles, slides up and kisses me, tenderly. We make out for a good five minutes until she tears herself away and unlocks my hand-cuffs.

"Do you think you could fuck me now?" she asks, fluttering her long eyelashes.

"I don't think I'll last long," I warn.

"Neither will I!" She sashays to the dining table and leans forward over it, legs straight, arse in the air, inviting me in.

I stand and stretch my stiff limbs properly. She sways her bottom side to side, impatiently.

I move behind her, and rub my cock up and down her slit, bumping her little nub. We both moan. She's right, she's soaked. I ease inside, pushing as deep as I can, enjoying being able to feel the plug in her arse from inside her, then pulling back out and stabbing in again hard.

"Stay there!" she tells me, and I do, balls deep. "It feels so amazing, I don't know how I've lived this long without it." Then she laughs, "Oh God, I've become obsessed with sex. It's your fault!"

"I would apologise, but I think that's a good thing!"

I twist the butt-plug in her arse, making her buck back against me, groaning loudly. I swat her on the bum, and again. I can control myself no longer and begin pounding into her hard, the table shuffling across the room.

"I'm not gonna stop this time."

"Don't stop. I'm so close." She rubs her clit furiously.

"Where do you want my cum?" I pant.

"On my boots. Cum on my boots," she blurts between thrusts.

"Oh God," I mutter, and slam into her, and she screams, one long scream until...

"I'm cumming!" she cries, and her cunt pulsates around my cock as she cums, her ejaculate squirting everywhere and all over her boots; and I lose it, pulling out and firing my hot load to mix with her's down her leather-clad thighs and calves.

I collapse forward on top of her, and we stay like that for what feels like an age. Eventually, I shift her blonde curls to one side and delicately peck her on the cheek.

"I love you so much," I tell her.

"I love you too," she says.

I shift, pick her up, cradling her, and carry her over to the couch. I sit, cuddling her on my lap. Dressed and made-up like a complete slut, metal butt-plug still up her arse, cum-covered fuck-me boots halfway up her thighs -- she's never looked more cute.

"Was that how you wanted it?" I ask.

Her smile is a mile wide. "It was pefect," she says. "I want to thank you for doing it."

"You don't need to. I enjoyed it too."

"Still, it was my fantasy." She stares into the eyes, open and full of love. "Let's go get my pussy pierced."

She's said and done some things that have shocked me, but I don't think anything will ever top that.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I do prefer it clean-shaven, and it does look a little bare, and Cathy says her's is amazing... You aren't going to try to talk me out of it, are you?" she teasingly smiles.

"Hell no."

***

Before she changed, I got some photos of her. I don't think she liked the idea to begin with, but when I convinced her that I needed something to wack off over until I got to see her again, she got into it, licking our cum off her boots and teasing the butt-plug from her gaping hole.

We shared a quick shower. Knowing we had to hurry if we were going to get her pierced before The Boyfriend came home, we unfortunately had to forgo any playing, but I still enjoyed cleaning her. It was a very sensual experience and, although I've fucked and cum in all her holes, I've never felt so close to her.

So we're on our way. I'm driving us to the same place Emma accompanied Cathy to when she got her's done.

Emma's wearing the pink Tinkerbell t-shirt she started the weekend in; a short denim mini-skirt; and sparkly pink ballet shoes with a kitten heel. With no make-up and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she looks like a different person from just an hour ago; with the slut hidden away again, the cute girly-girl I've always known is back. Except...

I know she isn't wearing any underwear. And our topic of conversation is a little racier than it used to be.

"If this can take like four weeks to heal... I'm going back to work in a couple of weeks," she says.

"Yeah, so?"

"I don't know what it's going to feel like wearing underwear with it."

"So don't wear underwear," I shrug. "I thought you prefered that now anyway."

"Yeah, but not for work. I'm not sure so it's a good idea for me to go into a class of horny teenage boys, feeling turned on."

"Why? What might you do?"

"Send all the under-sixteens out of the room!" she giggles.

"You're such a slut, I fucking love it."

"Y'know, anyone else called me a slut, I'd knock their teeth out."

"That's because when I do it, it turns you on. You love being a slut for me."

She pinches her thighs together. "Stop it, I don't want to go in there all wet."

We laugh. To think I was worried before the first time that sex might make things awkward between us.

"I suppose I could get some smart trousers that are a little looser..." she ponders.

"Terrible idea," I say. "Dresses and skirts, definitely. They don't have to be short. A knee-length leather skirt would still be hot."

"I'm not supposed to be dressing hot! I'm the teacher!" she giggles.

"Doesn't mean you can't look nice."

"Are you saying I don't normally look nice?" she teases.

"No, you always look fantastic," I tell her, "but, I do think you could change up your wardrobe a little. A leather skirt, some low-cut tops, some wet-look leggings..."

"I'm not really sure about those," she says. "The leggings -- they sometimes look like bin-liners."

"I'm telling you: on you, they'd look amazing. You've got the legs and butt for them."

"And you think the boys would like that?" she smiles.

"Fuck yes!" I exclaim, and she laughs.

"Maybe I'll do some shopping before our next get together."

"You should go back to see your brother's friend; you'll definitely get good service there!"

She laughs. "God, I don't know if I could look him in the eye again after I swallowed his cum."

My eyes pop out my head. She giggles, shaking her head, still a little embarrassed.

"Yep, that was pretty much the look he gave too!"

I love this woman.

"Ok," she directs, "turn left here and then take the little alley on the right, there's a car park round back."

I go as instructed. The car park's empty but for a Harley Davidson so, out of a new habit I've now learned, I pick the darkest, most secluded corner. I catch a slight hint of a smile from Emma.

Emma takes hold of my hand as we walk toward the front door. Nerves seem to have struck her suddenly, and she's the cute, slightly shy, girly-girl I first met six years ago. I want to look after her, protect her.

I stop her as she's about to push the door open. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to do it just because I'd like it, I want you to do it because you want it." I ask.

She kisses me and smiles. "I'm sure," and she leads me into the piercing and tattoo parlour.

There's only person inside and, from the Harley outside, it isn't the bearded stereotype I'd expected. It's a tiny young lady with messy chin-length blonde hair, red vest top, matching red platform ankle boots with a stiletto heel at least 7 inches high, and wet-look leggings in the style I've just been trying to convince Emma to get.

She also doesn't have the plethora of tattoos and piercings you might predict. I can't see a visible tattoo, and only her ears and nose are pierced.

"Hi guys," she smiles -- oh, and a tongue piercing -- "I'm Leah, what can I do for you this afternoon?"




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 03



Emma squeezes my hand.

"My girlfriend here would like her clit hood pierced, if possible?"

"Yeah, of course, come through to the back room and we'll have a look what we can do."

As we follow her, she explains, "Not all women are the same -- some don't have the right bits in the right places. Why don't you slip your skirt off, hop up on here and we'll see."

Embarrassed, Emma wiggles out of her denim mini-skirt and climbs into the comfortable-looking leather chair. Leah swings a pair of leg rests into place and Emma spreads herself wide.

Emma's hand beckons me, and I hold it.

"Wow, that's the prettiest, most perfect pussy I've seen in a long time," Leah says. "This is going to be an honour."

Emma blushes, and I smile at her as if to say I-told-you-so.

"Is it ok to touch you?" Leah asks. Emma nods.

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Leah gently touches Emma's folds and the area around her clit. It's moistening up quickly.

"Yeah, I recommend a vertical hood piercing, which will sit through there and rub nicely on the clit. It will look great and feel amazing. Does that sound ok?"

Emma looks at me and I nod encouragingly.

"Yes please," whispers Emma.

"Great. Do you want a barbell or a ring? I recommend a barbell to start with, there's less chance of it catching on anything which could be painful while it's healing."

Emma looks to me. "Sounds good," I say.

"Ok. Give me a sec to get ready."

Leah leaves the room, and Emma thumps me on the arm.

"Hey, what was that for?!" I protest.

"You were checking out her bum!" she accuses.

"Well, it looks good in those leggings -- that's why I want you to get some." 

She sighs, shaking her head. "I'll get some if you shut up pestering," she says. Score!

Leah returns, but I keep my focus on Emma until I'm hit with a brain-wave.

"Would it be ok to video this?" I ask.

"No!" Emma exclaims, simultaneously with Leah's "Yeah."

"C'mon baby," I kiss Emma's hand. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and it would be really nice to be able to watch it again in future."

Emma stares at me, clearly miffed, but surprises me by saying: "Fine."

I take my smartphone from my pocket and get it ready, lining it up.

"Ready?" Leah asks.

"I can't watch," says Emma. "Look at me."

I stare into her beautiful grey-blue eyes as she says, "Ready," and Leah quickly passes the needle through. Emma gasps and crushes my hand, but we hold each other's gaze until the barbell is in place, tells us she's done, and Emma gives me the nod to let me know she's ok.

"Stay there and take a minute to get used to it. I guess you'll already know, but no sex until it's healed, which will probably be four to six weeks. Feel free to come back and see me if you're not sure." 

Emma nods.

"Don't worry, mine healed in about two weeks, so you might be lucky," she says with a wink as she walks out the door.

If I wasn't with Emma, I'd be all over her.

Emma removes her legs from the stirrups and sits up. I check I got the recording (I did!), and put my phone away.

"If that ends up on the internet, I'll kill you," she jokes.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"No," she says, "it just feels like it's throbbing, like I can feel the pulse. It's different, but in a nice way."

I hold her skirt open and help her step into it. She's moving a little gingerly, exploring what effect the piercing has on her movements.

I hug her, and kiss her, with all the love I can muster. 

"Thank so much," I whisper. "You're the most amazing woman in the world, I don't know what I've done to deserve you."

She smiles and kisses me. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She picks up her bag and takes a step, then stops. She slides her hand up her skirt and gently touches herself, and she grabs hold of my arm, biting her lip. "Oh God, I didn't expect it to feel so good!"

"Glad I persuaded you then?" I tease.

"Definitely. I should have done this years ago."

"Ok, well then, can I take this opportunity to tell you: you should get your tongue and nipples pierced too."

"Don't tempt me," she warns. "I might."

We move through to the front of the parlour, where Emma insists on paying. I keep my arm around her waist, stroking her side, just barely brushing her boob.

Leah gives Emma some care instructions, and we leave, back out into the bright summer sun.

As we stroll back to the car, Emma reaches across and grasps the tent in my trousers, kneeding it, pumping it. She leads me by my cock to my car, and kisses me sensuously.

In plain view of whoever may be looking, she leans forward over the bonnet and tugs her mini-skirt up over her perfect peach of an arse, revealing it to the whole car park. 

"I want to go home to The Boyfriend with your piercing in my pussy, and your cum up my arse."

She runs her fingers along her slit, soaking them in her juices, and forces them inside her puckered anus. I hurriedly take my cock out, and she spreads her arse-cheeks for me, holding them wide.

I spit on her little star, and push my dick into her. She opens a lot easier than previously, but is still so tight that I can't help groaning.

"Fuck me," she urges. I grab her by the hips and I plough into her; her whimpering too loud for a public fuck but I don't care.

I stop and turn her over, lifting her onto the bonnet and spreading her legs -- and as a dancer, she can spread her legs as wide as you can imagine.

"I want to see your pierced cunt while I fuck you," I murmur, and she just purrs as I slam my cock back up her butt, the silver barbell above her clit glinting in the sunlight.

I push at her t-shirt, trying to release her boobs. "Get those gorgeous tits out," I tell her, and she rips the t-shirt over her head and tosses it who-cares-where.

"Oh my God, I'm your slut, I'm yours, tell me what to do, I'll do it!"

"If you're a slut, dress like it. Show off your fucking amazing body. Let everyone see."

"I will. I will!"

"Your friends. Your colleagues. Your family. Your students." I. Pound. Into. Her.

"Yes!"

"Especially your students. So you know that when they're wacking off at night, they're thinking off you."

"Oooh YEEESS!!" she screams. Her cum arches into the air, hitting me in the face, soaking my t-shirt. I lick my lips and hold on tightly so she doesn't thrash herself off the car bonnet, but I don't stop fucking her, and her orgasm seems to keep on going, her insides clenching me until I can't hold back.

"I'm gonna cum," I tell her.

"FILL MY ARSE!" she shouts, and I explode into her as she cums again, squirting all over me for a second time, and I've never seen her orgasm so intensely. The piercing is obviously working, and I lean forward and kiss her, and she licks herself from my face.

We kiss until my dick softens and I withdraw. "Pass me my handbag," she whispers, which I do, and rather than pulling out something to clean up with, she's holding her metal butt-plug.

"I told you, I want to go back with your cum up my arse," she says with a wicked grin, and she plugs her gaping hole. It shines next to her glinting piercing.

She stands on wobbly legs and straightens her mini-skirt. I find her t-shirt and hand it to her, but she doesn't put it on yet. She puts her arms around my neck and stares into my soul.

"I want you to know this is the sexiest, dirtiest, and just plain best weekend I've ever had. Thank you."

"Thank you," I reply, and kiss her deeply.

"I promise," she says, "that you'll be the first cock in my pussy once it's healed."

"What about The Boyfriend?" I ask.

"I'm not even going to tell him about it! If he really can't help himself, I might blow him," she winks.

I moan. "How long until we can spend that week together?"

"Half term is in eight weeks."

"That long?!" I protest. "I can't go that long without you now."

She smiles. "That's sweet. The Boyfriend will be starting football again on Thursday nights, so we can webcam then. I can catch you up on all the naughty things you've inspired me to do!"

"I'll hold you to that," and kiss her again.

As we're kissing, Leah exits and strolls toward her Harley. Emma, not making any effort to hide her flushed chest and bouncing breasts, shouts over to her:

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yep," Leah shouts back, a little surprised but grinning, knowingly.

"See you then."

"What, are you going to get something else done?" I enquire, my dick stirring again.

"You'll have to wait and see!"



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 04



I don't think I can wait eight weeks. It's only 8:40 Monday morning, 14 hours and 23 minutes since I last saw Emma.

Working with her on my mind is going to be tough.

I just sent her a text message to see how she's doing this morning, and to ask if the piercing she got in her clit hood is ok. The wait for this response is bad enough, and it's only been 7 minutes.

Finally, my phone vibrates with a message.

Emma: im good thanks. how r u? thank you 4 unbelievable wknd, i luvd it 2. im so horny! hate not being allowed to touch myself :( 

Me: cant concentrate on work! worse now!

Emma: nor can i! spsd to be prep for school. fckin my arse instead... 3 cums since the bf left for work!

Me: OMG! when did he leave?!

Emma: 35 mins ago

Me: SLUT ;) 

Her next message is a photo. I open it up, and quickly hide the screen from prying eyes. It's her, topless, her eyes smiling as she kisses the tip of a lifelike penis dildo, I'd guess about 8 inches long and thick. She's included a caption: "meet my friend richard".

Before I can reply, another photo arrives -- and this time, she has most of the dildo down her throat, just the last two inches stretching her lips obscenely. The caption reads: "practicing deep throat so i can swallow all of you next time ;)"

And while I'm still gazing at that, my dick growing beneath my desk, another picture message. Her reflection in a mirror by her bed, she's on all fours and the same dildo is now buried in her arse. I can just make out her pussy piercing in the small photo, and she's blowing me a kiss. The accompanying text is: "ill email full-size photos later"

Me: i love you

Emma: me too. got to go, time for one more before going out :)

Me: to the piercing place?

Emma: maybe ;)

Me: what are you getting?

Emma: yul find out when we webcam thurs. 6pm dont be late!

Me: please dont get nipples done yet. id like to get them done together

Emma: you want them too?! ok! see you later naughty boy xx

***

I texted her that evening, and again the following day, and tried ringing her three times on Wednesday, but she wouldn't answer me. I got the email of the photos as promised, including a lovely close-up of her bejewelled pussy, which is now my desktop wallpaper.

But she was ignoring me. Teasing me.

It was torture. But it was worth it...

***

Finally Thursday, and I get a text message from Emma reminding me not to be late (as if I needed reminding!), and that she had a surprise for me.

I've never broken so many speed limits or risked so many dodgy overtakes as I did to get home for Emma's webcam.

Still she was sat waiting for me.

She looks like she's just got home from work -- her blonde locks tied back in a bun but with a few loose strands framing her face; and a tight white blouse with the top three buttons undone, pushing her fantastic breasts into a demure cleavage.

I say, "Hello you!"

She waves and grins.

"How are you doing?"

She nods, and smiles.

"Not very talkative tonight?"

She grins and shrugs playfully.

"Has this got something to do with the surprise you texted about?"

She nods, barely able to contain herself.

"So tell me already!"

She sticks her tongue out... and it's pierced! 

I jump out of my chair to get closer to my monitor, trying to get a better look.

"Fuck me, that's hot!" I tell her.

"Thank you," she says with a grin.

"How is it you keep getting sexier every time I see you?" I ask.

"Could it be because I keep putting bits of metal through the bits of my body that you ask me to?" she quips.

"That's part of it," I admit. "Is that what you got done on Monday? How does it feel?"

"Yeah, Leah did it Monday. It's still a bit sore, but it's a turn-on to know I've got it, y'know?"

"Yeah. Well, it's certainly a turn-on to look at."

She giggles. "I know. I keep going to the mirror and sticking my tongue out -- I'm worried I'm getting really vain!"

I laugh. "If I looked as good as you, I'd never be away from a shiny surface."

She smiles coyly. "You're too sweet. I'm glad someone likes it; The Boyfriend doesn't."

"Why not?"

"I think he's worried that people will think I'm easy or kinky or something," she shrugs. "Good job he doesn't know about the other one!" We laugh together.

"How the hell have you kept that hidden from him?" I ask.

"He hasn't been interested. I think he's sulking that I spent the weekend with you."

I shake my head, disbelieving. "There must be something wrong in his head. I don't know another guy alive who'd be able to keep his hands off you."

She smiles appreciatively. "I wonder what he'll think of the next ones!" she says, giggling again.

"Which next ones?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

She lifts her delicate hands to her breasts and pinches her nipples through her blouse. "These."

"You really want to get them done too?" I ask.

"I thought you wanted your's done with me?" she asks, still absentmindedly fondling her boobs.

"I do."

"Can you call in sick tomorrow?"

"Wow, you're really getting into this, aren't you?"

"I know! I was really tempted to get something else when I was seventeen, when I got my tattoo, but I resisted. Now it's a like a full-on fetish or something!"

"I think it's incredibly fucking hot."

She grins at me. "It's fun, but I'm not gonna go too wild. My rule has always been: nothing that can be seen if I'm wearing a wedding dress. I don't like tattoos visible on brides."

"I'd agree with that. Still leaves plenty to play with!"

She giggles. "So, tomorrow?"

"Ok. What time shall I pick you up?"

"I think it's better if we meet there. We aren't going to fuck or anything -- that's only for the times The Boyfriend's agreed."

I pout theatrically, sulking.

"I still don't want to cheat on him," she explains.

"Ok," I agree, not wanting to make what I think is a pretty easy argument and risk upsetting her. "Meet you there about eleven? We could grab lunch after?

"Ok"

"So... what else have you been up to this week?"

"I've been shopping." She grins when my eyebrow raises. "Not back at Alan's sex shop, but clothes for school."

"Is that why you look like you've just got back from work?"

She nods. "I thought you'd like to see what I'm going to wear to welcome my new students next week."

"I like it. Could do with another button undone though."

She grins, and undoes one more. The tight blouse opens to just below her breasts, confirming she isn't wearing a bra, and the curve of the underside of her tits becomes visible.

"The only problem I have with this," she says teasingly, "is that I was always taught that a lady shows off her legs or her bosom, but not both. If I'm going to wear it like this, then I won't be able to wear this skirt with it..."

She stands, and to my utter delight, she's wearing a tight black leather mini-skirt.

"Oh. My. God."

"Which is a shame, because these look really good with it." She raises a foot onto the table in front of her, and she's wearing her black Louboutin heels -- the ones she was wearing when I took her anal virginity.

And because she's lifted her leg, and as the skirt is so short, I can just make out a glint from the silver barbell between her legs.

"Let me see your arse," I breathe, and she spins around, sticking out her bum for me. There's a zip on the skirt that runs the whole height of it, and it's open just far enough to hint at the lower curve of her buttocks.

"Ok, now really let me see your arse."

She grins naughtily, but instead of complying, she spins and sits back down. "Uh-huh, not today."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" I tempt.

"Nope. You could be recording this," she winks.

"I wish I was but I'm not, honest. Though I think the image of you bending over just now will be forever in my mental wank bank anyway."

She gasps, faking shock, then smiles coyly. "I guess that means you like the skirt?"

"Especially with you in it. What made you decide to get it?"

"Other than your pestering?" she grins. "Well, you'd been right about how sexy the piercings were, and I really love the feel of those boots you got me, so I thought I'd see."

"And was the genius right again?" I say, smugly.

"You're not a genius. But I do love the skirt."

"You've got to try latex next."

"Actually, I've already been thinking about that. When Leah was piercing my pussy, I got my special tingle and I thought it was just cos she was touching my clit, y'know? But I got it again when she did my tongue, and I know it was the feel of her latex gloves. Soooo I've been having a look, but it's expensive stuff."

"Don't worry about that. I'll email my credit card details over, you can put anything like that on there."

"Oh my God, I can't do that."

"Absolutely you can. I've got about six grand until you hit my limit, so buy as many toys and as much latex and leather as you like."

"That's ridiculous."

"I have one proviso."

"Oh, let me guess," she grins. "I'm going to get fucked wearing everything I buy?"

"That's going to happen anyway." She shakes her head, smiling. "There's a short list of things that I want you to get. Got a pen and paper handy?"

A quick rustle and an affirmative, "Ok".

"A leather corset. Latex trousers or leggings. A leather dress that you must wear to work. High heels and boots with at least a 4-inch heel -- I'm serious, anything less than four inches and you're paying for them. A latex nurse outfit. And a double-ended dildo."

She raises an eyebrow at that last one. "Seriously?"

"Anything else I leave up to you."

"Ok."

"So what does The jealous Boyfriend think of your new outfit?"

"I thought best not to show him, he'll only go off on one."

"Won't he see when you actually wear it to work?"

"I'll have time in the mornings to wait until he leaves before getting dressed, and then I'll be home before him in the afternoon."

"I do like a woman who can organise her sluttiness."

She smiles. "Speaking of which, him indoors will be home soon so I need to get his dinner on."

I can't hide my disappointment. "I thought we'd have longer."

"I need to get changed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Definitely."

***

I pull into the car park behind the tattoo parlour and am surprised to see it packed. There is only one space, and it's fortunately next to Emma's little convertible in the middle of the car park.

She's leaning against her pink car, waiting, and looking great, wearing a skin-colour (or "nude") sleeveless see-through blouse with the same shade strapless push-up bra underneath; a tiny black mini-skirt stretched tight over her flared hips and beautiful butt; and leopard skin booties with a wicked pointed toe and 4.5 inch black shiny stiletto heel. Her straight blonde hair hangs free past her shoulders, and her make-up is subtle and natural, with the exception of the now-regular smokey shadow around her eyes. She looks beautiful and classy and smoldering hot.

"Hello gorgeous," I greet her, and peck her on the cheek. "You're looking stunning. How are you doing?"

She smiles warmly. "I'm good, thanks."

"Let's see that tongue piercing properly then."

She looks a little embarrassed, but sticks her tongue out for me.

"Hot. Is it wrong that I really want to suck it?"

"I don't know about wrong," she grins, "but you can't."

"How about your other piercing? Can I suck that?"

She swats me on the arm.

"Is it healing ok though?"

"Yeah, getting there. You ready to go in?" she asks.

"Let's go."

She links her arm in mine and leads me toward the front of the store.

"What's with all the cars?" I ask.

"I think the office over the road shares the car park."

As we enter, Leah greets us, or more specifically, Emma, like an old friend, with a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Good to see you again."

"You too," Emma grins.

Careful not to let Emma catch me looking, I appreciate Leah's outfit -- a tight white tanktop with no bra that you can see the outline of her nipple rings through; a pair of black leather jeans that must have been sewn on; and white leather knee-high boots with a 4-inch metal stiletto.

"How are you healing?" asks Leah.

"Good thanks," Emma replies, sticking her pierced tongue out.

"Nice," smiles Leah. "Back to get your nipples done?"

Emma nods, "Yep, both of us." She squeezes my hand.

"Ok, unfortunately we're a bit busy at the moment. One of the back rooms is being used by a girl who's getting the second sitting of a whole back tattoo, so we're down to one and there's a bit of a queue." She points at two half-asleep slackers sat in the waiting area. "I reckon it'll be a couple of hours at least."

"Crap," says Emma.

"Can you do them out here?" I ask, noticing the spare work area by the front window.

"Er, I guess," says Leah. "That's normally just for ear piercings and that, but if you don't mind..."

I shrug. Emma looks dubious. "Shall I go first?" I ask her. She nods.

"Ok then," says Leah.

I tug my t-shirt off and she shows me to the seat, the slightly-tinted glass not preventing any passersby from looking in.

As Leah gets her stuff ready, she asks, "So, what exactly do you want? One or both, ring or bar, horizontal, vertical, what?"

"I think one bar horizontally in my left nipple, thanks."

I look to Emma for her approval, and she smiles, taking hold of my hand again.

Leah's good at what she does, and swiftly marks where the holes will be and checks for my approval; uses a clamp to hold the nipple in place; and slides the needle through. It stings like a fucker, but is over quickly and I feel my dick getting chubby at the sensation.

A passing businesswoman pauses to look, staring at my newly-decorated chest, until she notices Emma giving her a serious evil eye, and she scarpers. I love when Emma gets jealously protective of me.

"Your turn sweetie," I tell Emma, standing, but not bothering with my t-shirt for now.

"I don't know, maybe I should wait," she says.

"Don't you want it?"

"I do, I'm just worried about someone I know seeing."

"That's highly unlikely, isn't it?" I kiss her temple and whisper into her ear, "Besides, slut, a little exhibitionism usually makes you wet."

She moans, wantonly, and removes her blouse, and then her bra. The queuing slackers are wide awake now, and staring at Emma's brilliant boobies.

"And what can I do for you?" Leah asks, as Emma slides into the chair.

"Whatever he wants," she says, holding my hand tighter.

Leah looks to me. "Ok, lucky boy, what are you going to have me do to my girl here?"

"Horizontal bar in each one, thanks. Maybe we'll change it to rings after they've healed."

Leah nods and gets to work, only she's a little slower and more deliberate, almost as though she's savouring it. And why wouldn't she?

Another office-worker, a balding older guy, strolls past the window and does a double-take so comical that I can't help laughing. He stops and stares at Emma.

Leah marks both nipples and checks we're both happy with the placement.

"Ok, this will sting a bit." Leah pushes the needle through Emma's right nipple, who squeeks and crushes my hand, hard, and keeps squeezing until the silver barbell is in place.

"God, that looks amazing," I tell her, and she smiles at me weakly.

"I hate getting them done, but I love it once it is," she murmurs, staring at the latest edition to her body.

I look up and am surprised how quickly an audience has gathered. Maybe the bald guy rang his mates, because suddenly there's four businessmen glaring at Emma with barely restrained longing, plus the two slackers who had, unnoticed, stood up and come over for a proper gawp. 

"You could stand on the other side," Emma suggests.

"But then the nice gentlemen won't be able to see," I tease.

She shakes her head and smiles, squishing her thighs together and squirming a little -- a sure sign she's getting really turned on.

"Last one," says Leah, who clamps Emma's left nipple.

"Hold on," I say, and extract my smartphone from my pocket.

"Really?" Emma groans, sounding lustful more than unhappy.

I start filming. "Pull your skirt up," I order.

Without hesitation, Emma rolls her tight black skirt up, around her waist, putting her pierced pussy on full display. Now six guys view through the window. Now seven. Must be lunchtime.

Gently, Emma runs a finger along her soaking lips.

"Ok Leah," I breathe, and she forces the needle through the perfect skin, and Emma catches everyone by surprise as she jerks and orgasms, squirting a small puddle onto the floor and splashing Leah's leather-clad legs and sexy boots.

We, her audience, wait for Emma to finish, enjoying how much she basks in all of us ogling her body.

Eventually she lies still enough for Leah to fix the final barbell, looks over to me, and sighs a heavenly sigh.

"All done," I say.

"For today," she grins.

"You are the sexist woman in the world. I mean, like, by miles. It's not even close."

Tenderly, we kiss.

"Thank you," I whisper. She just smiles a content and naughty smile.

I go to pay, and watch Emma pose by the window in front of at least a dozen people. She gives them a little curtsy, then tugs her skirt down and puts her see-through top back on, without the bra.

Leah and I walk back over to her, and Leah gives Emma a careful hug and a lingering kiss on the cheek. "When can I expect you back?" she asks.

"I'm not sure," Emma replies. "I'm thinking about a couple of tattoos, and maybe getting my belly button pierced."

"Ok. Give me a buzz and I'll make sure I'm here," she smiles, and holds the door open for us.

As we leave the shop, Emma gets a smattering of applause and a couple of lewd comments shouted at her ("how much for a go?", "I've got something I can pierce her with" etc), and she huddles against me, a little coy, draping her arm across her exposed breasts.

We round the corner and I'm relieved that none of them follow us to the car park. Emma drops her arm from her breasts and gropes for the tent in my trousers, pulling at it. I take in the full beauty of her newly-adorned tits as she rubs my pole.

"You'd better ease off," I warn, "or I'm going to make a mess in my pants."

We get back to our cars and, before I can say anything, Emma pulls me between them and unzips my fly; my rock hard prick springing free.

"I thought...?" I start to ask.

"I'm not going to touch you," she purrs, "but you can wack off over me if you like."

She kneels in front of me, lifting her top, her tiny skirt bunching around her waist, and sticks her pierced tongue out. Her big grey-blue eyes stare up into mine and lock on.

I stroke my cock, so close to her that I can feel her hot breath on it.

"Quickly," she urges, "I need you to cover me in your cum."

I pump properly now, hearing multiple footsteps around us and remembering the busy car park we're in. I wank myself hard and fast, and I feel it bubbling. 

"Tell me you're my slut," I order.

"I'm your naughty, dirty, pierced slut," she breathes. "Now hurry up and cum on my pretty face."

That does the job -- with her mouth closed, I guess to protect her recently-pierced tongue, we continue staring into each other's eyes as I unload, the first blast spraying her forehead, the second hits her nose, and the rest I empty over her cheeks and chin and spread over her lips.

She giggles, and rubs it into her skin like moisturiser, letting her fingers run down her neck and over her tits, then forces her fingers into her pussy as though trying to push some cum up inside.

Satisfied, she stands and straightens her clothes, then kisses me on the cheek. Reluctantly, she tells me, "You should go."

"I thought we were going for lunch?"

"I'm going to Alan's shop to pick up the dress you got me, and a couple of other things." She winks.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 04



"I've got to come along for that," I protest.

"No, because I want what I get to be a surprise."

I sigh. "Give me a clue?"

She ponders. "Ok. I'm probably going to get a couple more toys... I've been using the inflatable plug we got last time, and I want to try something bigger."

My eyebrows climb my forehead, and I smile.

"Well, you remember what I told you Mandy did?" she asks.

I nod; she leans in close, her lips tickling my ear as she whispers: 

"I keep thinking that, if I'm going to be the best slut I can be for you, then I need to be able to take your fist up my arse."

Bombshell dropped, she spins away from me, unlocking her car.

"I'll be working late our first day back at work next week, so I'll webcam the Thursday after."

And with that, she's gone. I'm still frozen in shock. My cute little best friend wants my fist up her arse.

Oh yes.

***

SIX WEEKS UNTIL HALF TERM

Again, Emma didn't take any of my calls or return my messages. Twelve whole days without a single murmur from her -- almost as though she'd dropped off the planet. She wasn't even updating her social media status.

I raced home, and go straight to her webcam.

And there she is. Her normal dark eye make-up; deep red lipstick. Her cheeks a little flushed. Naked but for a butterfly necklace, the first gift I ever bought her, and her pierced pussy and nipples and, oh wow, a new navel piercing too. And she's freshly shaved, by the looks of it.

"Hi there," she says. "Y'know, I still think I look a little bare. I'm gonna get a little tattoo right here." She circles her finger on a small area about an inch above and to her left of her slit.

"That would be great. In fact, I've got an idea for something that would look great there. I'll sketch it out and email it to you later."

"Ok." She absentmindedly strokes her damp lips.

"So, how have you been?" I ask. "It seems like ages."

"Yeah," she sighs, "I've been good. Busy," she says with a dirty little grin.

"Got another new piercing, I see?"

"Yeah. You like?" she poses, running her fingers around her stomach and chest, across her butterfly tattoo and hard pierced nips.

"I do, very much. You're running out of places to pierce!"

"I know," she giggles, "that's why I've moved onto tattoos..."

"So, what else have you been up to?"

"Erm, have you checked your credit card statement recently?" she smiles, coyly.

"No, but I did get a call from them, wanting to check what they thought were some suspicious transactions."

"Oops!" she giggles. "That was me."

"I gathered. I just said it was all fine."

"Thank you!" She blows me a kiss. "I didn't mean to spend that much, but my pretty pussy started thinking for me."

"That's ok. I said there's about 6k there for you, and you've left me with four, so..."

"Actually, I went a bit wild again on the weekend. You've only got two and a half left."

"Bloody hell!" I exclaim. "What have you been buying?"

"Well, things like these aren't cheap."

She lifts her feet onto the table to show me she's wearing Jimmy Choo patent nude leather pointy toe pumps with a 4.5-inch heel. They are very fucking hot.

"These were three hundred and seventy five pounds. I could return them if you want me to?" she pouts.

"Nah, don't worry about it," I stammer.

She smiles, naughtily. "I wore them to work today. I think the boys liked them." She winks.

"I bet they did!"

"I could hear them whispering about whether or not I had nipple piercings when they left! I was wearing a tight top and, oops, forgot my bra."

"Teasing slut! How is work going?"

"It's going great, thanks. Do you know what I got my year 11 students to do on their first day?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"I got them to design a tramp stamp for me".

I guffaw. "You're kidding, right?"

"It was mostly for a laugh, but there were some really good ones. Sooo..."

She stands and slowly turns around and, good God, she's got a tattoo on her lower back! 

A bold tribal-style design, not too huge and heavy, all in black, with a butterfly at it's centre, it's almost the whole width of her back but very low, so it could be covered by high-waisted jeans or skirts, and the arrow at the base points and stretches into her arse crack... hold on, arrow?

She's watching over her shoulder for my reaction, and she must like it because she's grinning. "The arrow," I ask, "is that because of my name?"

"Yep. I told them their designs had to incorporate a butterfly and an arrow, and there were three I really liked and couldn't choose between, so I went with the guy I fancy most!"

"Fuck me," I mutter.

"Is that a 'fuck me' of approval?" she asks, grinning.

"I thought you'd only get a small one, but that's fucking brilliant. I love it."

"I'm glad," she says. "It makes me feel like you're always with me."

I cannot tell you how touched I am by that. It brings a tear to my eye.

"That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me. I love you."

"I love you too," she says.

She sits down again, carefully.

"What did The Boyfriend say when he saw it? And the piercings too?"

"He's not talking to me."

"Oh, that bad, eh?"

"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "You don't want to waste our time together talking about him, do you?"

"Fuck no!"

She grins.

"Did you get the bridesmaids dress ok?" I ask.

"Yes, but you're not seeing it until we meet up," she teases.

"Does it fit ok?"

"It's obscene; there's no way I can ever wear it in public. You'll love it!" she laughs. "I got a couple of other things while I was there..."

She disappears from view for a second. "Remember this?"

She returns with the huge butt-plug we saw when we first went to the sex shop.

"You just keep blowing my mind," I tell her. "You aren't seriously telling me you can get that up your arse now?"

"I haven't yet, but I thought tonight might be the night."

She kneels on her chair, facing away from me, her new tattoo and sexy heels coming back into view.

She smiles coyly. "I was warming up before you came on," she admits, "so I'm ready."

"Ok," I breathe, shuffling closer to my monitor for a better look.

She seems nervous. It just makes her look more cute.

She gets herself comfortable and moves the massive tool to her naughtiest hole, which I can see is already lubed up and gaping slightly. The first bit is relatively easy, and she gets over half into her quite quickly. But this monster is 8 inches around. I seriously doubt she can do it, and don't want her to hurt herself.

"Honey..." I start.

"I nearly got in trouble at work today," she interrupts. "The boy who designed my tattoo, the one I fancy -- actually, there's about twelve in there that are nice, it's a good year -- anyway, this boy, it was his sixteenth birthday today..."

She continues trying to force the plug further inside, wiggling and pushing hard.

"...and somebody suggested I sing him happy birthday. So I did. Marilyn Monroe; Mr President-style."

She grunts as she gives the toy a shove. Still a couple of inches to go.

"And I was sat on his desk and about to slide onto his lap, when the headteacher came in!"

She jiggles the toy, frustrated.

"Why don't you try sitting on it?" I suggest.

"Good idea," she mutters.

Instead of sitting on her chair, as I expected, she puts the huge toy on her desk and puts her high heels on the chair for balance, raising her gaping arsehole into the air -- the plug, her bum and her new tat filling the screen.

She lowers herself onto the giant plug, her arse stretching obscenely as she quickly gets back down as far she had been, and then a little further. Only a little more than an inch to go now.

"So the headteacher, he looked at me like I was gonna get in serious shit. But he just wanted to talk to one of the other students."

She bounces up and down, grunting, getting close to fitting the fat toy in her fabulous arse.

"We carried on with the class after that. But all I could think about was the hard-on I could see in that boy's pants, and how gutted I was I didn't get to sit on it."

Her hole is stretched so wide now -- it's red and angry -- and there's just a little bit more to go...

Suddenly, a muffled shout from somewhere off screen.

"Oh fuck, The Boyfriend's home early!"

And quick as a flash, she's gone.

In a lesson learnt from last time, I had recorded her webcam -- so I watch it again and wack off. It's a slightly hollow orgasm. I need another fix of her, and soon.

***

Saturday lunchtime. I'm tucking into a bbq chicken sandwich and watching the F1 qualifying when I get a text message.

Emma: guess where ive just been ;)

Me: to see leah?

A picture message arrives as response -- of Emma's perfect pussy with my design freshly tattooed above and to her left of it. The top half, that could be seen above low-rise jeans and trousers, is a fairy, with wings and sweet smile -- a semi-rip-off of Tinkerbell. The bottom half, from the fairy's waist down, has fishnet stockings, a devil tail, and, of course, high heels. Her magic wand is pointing exactly at Emma's sparkling clit hood piercing. I think it sums up Emma pretty well.

Me: looks sexier on you than i ever imagined. I LOVE YOU xx

Emma: thank YOU!! i love the design and i love YOU xxxxx

Me: will we be webcamming thurs?

Emma: dont think so. the bf injd himself, thats why home early other night. hes not going next 2-3 weeks :(

Me: fuck!!!!!

Emma: i know. some good news though -- we r on for half term. the bf says ok :)

Me: YES!!!!!! :)

Emma: i know! got to go xx

And I didn't hear from her until...

***

TWO WEEKS UNTIL HALF TERM

Monday night. Crap day at work. Suddenly improved by a call from Emma:

"Hey you!" I answer.

"Hi." From the tone of her voice, I immediately know something's wrong.

"What's up?" I ask.

She sniffs. She's obviously just been crying.

"One of the boys is threatening to tell everyone I fucked him if I don't fuck him."

"Shit!" I know how important her teaching career is to her. This is very bad. "What are you going to do?"

"Well I'm not going to fuck him!"

"No. And listen, no-one would believe him even if he did tell anyone."

"They might. It would be his word against mine, and people have been talking about the way I've been dressing and acting recently and everything... it just doesn't look good."

"What have they been saying?"

"Y'know, little snarky comments about my clothes and my tongue piercing, and how that must mean I love giving head, and all that kind of crap. Even the bloody Head spoke to me today."

"What about?"

"He told me my attire wasn't 'appropriate for working with teenage boys'."

"What were you wearing?"

"A knee-length leather skirt and a blouse."

"That doesn't sound inappropriate! What's he talking about?!"

"Well... there was a slit up the back of the skirt so you could see the top of my fishnet stockings... and some leg above that... and the blouse was undone so some of my leather bra was showing..."

"Fuck me!"

"... actually, a lot of my bra was showing... and I was wearing the boots you got me."

"The thigh-high ones? You wore them to school?!"

"I know, I know. I was just feeling really fucking horny. Yesterday, I went to see Leah and she gave me the all clear with my clit piercing... so all I could think about was being able to fuck again."

"You should have told me -- I'd have been there like a shot to give you some relief!"

"You know we can't. And this morning... y'know I said I sang happy birthday to this boy I fancy before? Well, suddenly, every lesson is somebody's birthday. And I went along with it for a while and..." she sniffs, "...I gave this boy, the little blackmailing shit, I give him a lapdance. Right there, in front of the whole class. I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid..."

"It just... It scares me how much I lose control when I get turned on."

She sobs again.

"Hey." I wish I was there to hold her, protect her, make her feel better. "I think you should tell the Head yourself that this is what the boy has said to you. And maybe not wear those boots to work again!"

She laughs, weakly. "Yeah. I might do that. I'm gonna dress more carefully now, and, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna take the piercing out of my clit. I hope if I'm less horny, I might, y'know..."

"Yeah, good idea" I say, trying to sound supportive to hide my disappointment.

She sniffs again, then whispers: "I was so tempted to fuck him."

"Really?" I ask, shocked.

"Yeah. I mean, he's pretty cute, and I could feel he had a really big thing when I lapdanced on him, and my pussy was sooo wet and was tingling all day, but..."

"But what?"

"I promised you'd be the first after my piercing healed. And I didn't want to cheat on The Boyfriend. And I thought he'd probably just keep blackmailing me and make me do it again and again..."

She sobs.

"It'll be ok," I tell her. "Just go to the Head first thing tomorrow and tell him what happened. Speaking to him first will at least make them more likely to believe you if the bastard arsehole fucking shitbag does start lying."

"Yeah, ok," she mumbles.

"Do you want me to do anything? Speak to the fucker or something?"

"No, best you don't get involved. Thanks though."

"Ok."

"I'd better go. The Boyfriend's watching the football downstairs and it's nearly finished..."

"Yeah, ok. Let me know how it goes."

"Ok. Bye."

***

The next afternoon, after I knew Emma would be home from work, I texted her. I've been waiting an hour for a reply. Please God don't let this be one of the times she ignores me.

Finally...

Emma: i'm ok. how r u?

Me: im ok thanks. worried about you. what happened today?

Emma: nothing. still deciding whether to speak to head

Me: ok. i still think you should before fucker does

Emma: maybe. are you coming to surprise party on saturday?

Me: of course! apparently not surprise anymore though ;) wouldnt miss ur big 3 oh

Emma: dont remind me :( well catch up then then. got to go x 

I hope this can all get sorted. I hate when she's unhappy.

Then I receive another message from her with a pic attached. The text reads:

taking clit piercing out hasnt worked :(

The picture is of her reflection in the mirror. She's on her back, naked but for her thigh-high boots, spread acrobatically wide. The tip of a vibrator is splitting her red, wet and swollen pussy lips; and in her arse, all the way in, is the monster butt-plug. Her eyes stare at me, betraying her desperation to cum.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

***

ONE WEEK UNTIL HALF TERM

Suited and booted, I arrive fashionably late at Emma's party. It's in the local rugby club (her brother plays for them) and is a private do. I won't know many people there, so didn't want to get there before it was in full swing.

And it is swinging. Streamers, balloons and massive signs -- all with "30" or "Happy Birthday" on them -- do their best to disguise what is actually a pretty shabby building. Probably about eighty people have turned up; the older family members sitting in a circle around the heaving dancefloor, though quite why it's so popular when it's playing the cheesiest eighties pop is anyone's guess. But, hey, Emma likes it. Speaking of Emma, where is she?

Almost as if she knew I was looking for her, she appears on top of the bar. She looks pretty drunk, but sensational.

Her blonde hair is swept over in a side parting and curled, and she must be wearing extensions because it falls over one shoulder and down to her breast in a golden wave. She has long fake eye-lashes on too, and heavy dark eye-liner merges into a gold shadow that somehow looks classy and slutty at the same time. She's wearing the Jimmy Choo nude pumps that she wore for me on our last webcam, and the dress... wow, the dress...

As she dances along the bar, kicking her legs out, the flimsy gold fabric shimmers in the disco lights. It has a halterneck, the thin straps tied behind her neck and flowing free down her bare back, scooping low all the way down to hint at the very tip of her arse crack, her tramp stamp tattoo on complete display. From the front, the v-neck plunges down to show the curve of the underside of her fabulous tits, and the straps are so thin as to be showing generous side-boob too. The way she's moving, it's a miracle that at least one of her tits hasn't fallen out yet.

But the thing that currently has everyone's attention about this dress is how short it is. Scandalously so. Quite a few blokes (I'm guessing, rugby players), are staring straight up her dress at her bare, glistening, freshly shaven pussy -- one of them being her brother, who can't seem to tear his eyes from her crotch. It's so obvious that I can see from the other side of the room that she hasn't got her clit piercing in. I don't see any way she can be unaware of the show she's putting on.

Over-protective and jealous as usual, The Boyfriend is trying to get her to come down. Ignored, he instead clambers onto the bar alongside her and signals to the DJ to cut the music.

The bumping bass stops and is replaced by a chorus of boos, mostly from the blokes sat at the bar.

The Boyfriend waves at everyone to quieten down. "Thanks everyone, ok. Cheers for coming and helping us celebrate Emma's big birthday."

Some cheers and applause. Emma looks embarrassed.

"As you all keep telling me, we've been together a long time now. Sooo..."

He takes Emma's hand and gets down on one knee, fishing a small box from his pocket.

Oh no. Oh fuck no, please no, don't...

"Emma, will you marry me?"

She gasps, obviously as stunned as I am. I hope her reaction is the same as mine. In my desperation, I try something I've never believed in -- telepathy.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

"Yes."

My world collapses in on itself as The Boyfriend slides a diamond ring onto Emma's finger. Everything seems to be closing in, I've got to get out...

Not wanting anyone else to see, I go through the door next to me, not knowing or caring where it leads as long as it's away. I hurry down the corridor, pushing at doors until I find an open one, and I find myself in the home team's dressing room. My hands are shaking, my breathing's ragged, and I realise (when I feel something wet hit my hand) that tears are streaming down my cheeks.

I collapse onto the nearest bench and weep.

***

The tears had to stop, I guess. I must be getting dehydrated.

I don't know how long it's been. Half an hour? An hour? Two minutes? When you've been sucked into a black hole, how do you measure time?

I hear faltering footsteps in the hallway outside, so I quickly dry my eyes. I consider hiding, but there's nowhere to go.

The door opens and Emma totters in, her Jimmy Choo's clicking on the faded tile floor, the diamond on her finger glinting in the diffused moonlight sneaking through the window. She sees me, and her eyes tell me immediately that she knows I must be hurting. She smiles, full of sympathy, and looks so angelic that I feel tears begin to sting my eyes again. I turn away so she can't see.

"I'm so sorry," she says, letting the door close behind and walking over to sit next to me. She takes my hand, squeezing it gently, and I lift my eyes to hers.

"I don't think anyone's ever looked more beautiful than you do right now."

She smiles, so sweet and so full of love, that I swear I hear my heart snap in two.

"I didn't know he would... I wouldn't have let you come if I'd known..."

"It's ok," I choke out. I take a deep breath; try to steady myself.

"This doesn't change the way I feel about you..." she whispers.

"You can't expect me to carry on being your bit on the side. I can't do that." 

This is really hard. Keep it together.

"It's not like that! I love you."




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 04



"Why did you say you'd marry The Boyfriend then?"

"I had a room full of people staring at me, expecting me to say yes! And..." She falters.

"And what?"

"And you never asked."

I thought every warhead had already fallen on me, but apparently she'd been saving one back.

There was only one question I could ask: "Would you have said yes if I had?"

"I don't know. Not yet, anyway," she admits.

"Precisely. You told me you weren't going to make your mind up until after our week together. That's what you said! As long as I've loved you -- and I'm telling you, that's been a fucking really long time -- I've always respected your relationship with him, and I don't think you understand how fucking hard it is..." 

I stop and breathe deeply, fighting to rein myself back in.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be." She smiles sympathetically again.

"So you really want to marry him?" I ask, knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

"Yes." Ouch. "But I want your baby."

"I don't know I can do that anymore..."

"I'd understand if you didn't want to, but there's a reason I picked you. It's because I know I can't marry both of you, but this way, I get to keep you in my life forever too. Divorces happen, but no-one could take away that we had a child together."

I stare into her beautiful grey-blue eyes. She kisses me, so soft, so much love, and I remember that it doesn't matter how much it may hurt me, as long as she is happy.

"I can't say 'no' to you," I tell her.

She smiles. "I want you to do it because you want to, not because you feel you have to or..."

"I want to. I want to have a baby with you."

And I really do.

She kisses me again. I take a second, savour the moment, enjoy just being with her.

"Do you want your present?" I ask.

"Oooh, presents!" she claps her hands like a kid, and I can't help grinning at how cute she is.

I take a small jewellery box from my pocket and give it to her. She opens it.

"I got you a diamond too." It's a barbell for a body piercing with a diamond at one end. "I got it for your clit, but if you don't want to wear that anymore then I thought you could still use it in your navel, or..."

She cuts me off by forcing her lips against mine, and her tongue down my throat.

"I love it," she says. "Put it in for me."

She stands in front of me and lifts the front of her dress, admittedly, not needing to lift it far. Her slit is soaking; her clit is hard and protruding -- my dick is following suit.

"Are you sure? I thought you were worried about how horny it made you?

"Yeah... turns out that didn't help. I guess you've just released the naughty girl that was always inside me," and she flashes that naughty grin that I so love.

I slide the piercing through the hole in her clit hood, and she shivers and wriggles and moans as I screw it secure.

"You'd better not go dancing on the bar with that thing in -- you'll start a stampede!"

She giggles. "The bar did get a bit busier after I got up there." She rubs her fingers over her new jewellery, groaning loudly. "Oh God, it feels so good! Is it bigger or something?"

"Yeah, I thought you might like that. I noticed your brother couldn't take his eyes off you..."

A flash of filth in her eyes. "What are you implying?" she grins.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying straight out that your brother wants to fuck you."

"Oh my God!" she laughs, twirling away from me. "You're so wicked!"

She dances around the changing room, her high heels clicking, her body swaying, her dress clinging on for dear life.

"Y'know, that's his seat. When he gets changed for rugby."

"Yeah?"

Suddenly, she strides to me and straddles my lap.

"Do you want to fuck me here?"

"Now? Won't people come looking for you?"

"We'd better be quick then." She unzips my fly and pulls out my already hard cock. "I told you, you would be the first in my pierced pussy. I can't wait another second."

She lowers herself all the way onto my pole in one long push, and orgasms immediately, her cum going off like a fountain and soaking my shirt. I hold on, keeping her upright until she recovers enough to giggle at the mess she's made.

"I do like you in a suit, but I think you'd better take this off." She tugs at my jacket and shirt, revealing my pierced nipple. She smiles as she sees the surprise I had for her -- my barbell has the letter E for Emma on it.

"So you're always near my heart," I whisper.

She licks and sucks it into her mouth, and it makes hot clicking sounds against her tongue stud.

"You seem a bit happier since the last time we spoke," I tease. "So, what happened at school? Did you speak to the Head?"

"Not exactly..." she pulls the straps of her dress together, bunched in the centre, to expose her nipple piercings.

"What happened?" 

She begins gyrating slowly on my prick, letting it fill her, exploring how it feels over every cell in her glorious, tight cunt.

"I promised the boy I'd fuck him when he turned sixteen."

"You're fucking with me!"

"Yes, but no," she laughs, changing her movements from horizontal to vertical, fucking her hole with my pole.

"When's that?"

"The week after half term."

"Seriously? Are you going to do it?"

"It's bought me some time to decide. Oh God, this feels too good."

I grab her hips and begin thrusting up to meet her motions.

"This may be the worst thing I've ever done," she breathes.

"Tell me."

"I'm fucking another man, just minutes after agreeing to marry my boyfriend, in a room a few yards from where my whole family are celebrating my birthday, and in the spot where my brother is regularly naked."

"That's pretty fucking hot," I tell her.

"You're so good. I've missed this so much." Her pussy embraces my cock, milking me as my thrusts speed up.

"It turns you on that we're fucking in your brother's spot, doesn't it?"

She groans.

"It turns you on that your brother wants to fuck you, doesn't it?"

"Oh God!"

"You want to fuck him, don't you? You want to fuck your brother."

She kisses me, hot and wet, as passionate as I've ever seen her.

"You're fucking amazing. You're an angel, a goddess, a slut, all in one. Impossible, but perfect."

"I am a slut. I'm your slut. Oh God." Her bounces on me become urgent. "I'll do any perverted thing you want. Anything, I swear."

"Anything?"

"Anything!"

"I'm nearly there," I pant. I fuck up into her with all my might.

"Cum inside me!" she yells, and we orgasm together with such a bang that it's like the universe has been recreated. That she's engaged to The Boyfriend no longer matters. Everything is new; everything is bright. The sun, the planets, the moon, the stars -- all there, all beautiful.

But not as beautiful as the phenomenal creature sat astride me.

"I'm not sure I can take a whole week of this," I whisper.

She giggles. "I know. You'd better rest up. I want your cum filling me up all week long. I'm going to make another little person with you."

I kiss her; all the hurt is gone for now, because we're together.

"I don't know any way I could love you more," I tell her.

"Wait until you see what I'm going to do for you next week!" she teases, with a wink.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 05



HALF TERM, DAY 1, SATURDAY

It was difficult to wrangle the week off work, but there was no way I would miss this. A whole week with Emma! The stuff my kinky dreams were made of...

As she would be unlikely to need her car for the week, we agreed to meet at a service station almost exactly halfway between our homes. The Boyfriend would drive her there; we'd all have lunch; The Boyfriend would return to his home; and Emma and I would return for a week of attempting to get her pregnant. In as many and varied ways as possible.

We haven't got off to the greatest start though – apparently there's been an accident on the M25 so they're running late. By 94 minutes, and counting.

Finally, The Boyfriend's Astra squeels into the car park and parks alongside my small hatchback.

The Boyfriend is first out, giving me a cursory nod which I return, and then Emma...

She's looking cute, with her blonde locks tied back in a loose ponytail and without make-up. She wears a loose white vest-style t-shirt, emblazoned with a massive red "WOW", and with a narrow black boob tube showing underneath. The t-shirt skims her bum, which is encased in spray-on-tight faded light-blue jeggings, and which stretch down to sparkly silver ballet flats. She's carrying a large handbag that I teasingly call her "S&M" bag, because it's black leather with a chain for a handle.

"Hi you," I greet.

She beams at me. "Hey. I just need to pop into the toilets, I'll meet you in the food hall."

The Boyfriend announces he won't be staying for lunch – he's got plans and, as they got here late, he now has to rush back. I'm not disappointed. We agree to switch Emma's bags to my car while she's gone.

She hugs and kisses him goodbye. I hate it, but take a little solace in the fact that she seems awkward doing it in front of me – she's never had that problem before.

"What do you want? I'll order for you," I ask.

She smiles sweetly. "Ooh, a burger and a diet coke, please."

"No chips?"

"I'll nick some of yours!"

As she sashays into the service station, her rear view is almost better than the front – her t-shirt has great gaps cut out of the back and, as it sways with each stride, her tramp stamp tattoo peeps out. Peeking back over her shoulder to see me looking, and to see that The Boyfriend's head is buried in his car retrieving a bag, she lifts the bottom of her top slightly to show her denim-clad arse, giving it a little wiggle. It looks gooood.

The transfer of her bags complete, The Boyfriend grunts a goodbye, jumps into his car, and speeds away. Nice to see you too.

I head into the large building that houses the toilets, a few little shops, a tiny arcade, and the food hall. I queue and order her food and, slightly surprised that I'm done before she's reappeared, I find a table near the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's pretty busy in here. I keep an eye on the toilet doors so that I can signal to her where I am when she...

Oh my fucking God.

She's let her hair down, and I don't just mean that she's untied her ponytail. The sweet girl who was just dropped off by her fiance has vanished, replaced by sex on very long legs. The jeggings and the boob tube under her t-shirt are both gone, as are her ballet flats. She now only has the floaty t-shirt acting as a very short mini-dress, with a lot of cleavage and side-boob showing. Nip-slips must be a given in that. And on her feet, she's wearing bright red Louboutin Mary Jane heels with a 4-inch heel.

She spots me waving to her and weaves her way between the tables, her head bowed slightly coyly as everyone she passes turns to look at her. The mini-dress is swishing so high on her thighs that I'd be stunned if those turning to look behind her can't see at least a hint of a bare bum.

As she gets closer, I can see she's also redone her make-up: bright-red lipstick and prostitute-heavy dark eye-liner and shadow. She looks stylish, but very fucking slutty. I want her now.

"I want you now," I tell her as she slides onto the seat opposite me.

She giggles. Nevermind a nip-slip, her nipple piercings are obvious through the thin material – and she's changed the barbells I got her for rings.

"Sorry I didn't arrive like this," she says, "The Boyfriend and I had a little talk about the way I've been dressing and that after my birthday." She tucks into her burger.

"Did that little talk stretch to you wearing nipple rings instead of bars?"

She giggles again and very quickly flashes her bare breasts with their new silver jewellery to me. "Yes it did. He doesn't mind the stuff that's hidden... actually, he quite likes my clit one."

"Oh, so you've finally let him see it then," I say, slightly disappointed.

"Yeah," she admits. "He took the week off work so we've been seeing quite a lot of each other..." She winks.

"So, haven't you been at work then?"

"Oh shit, you don't know, do you? The boy who was blackmailing me for sex didn't believe that I would do him after half term, so went to the Head. I'm suspended."

"Oh my God! Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll work out. The Head told me he has to do it for procedure and bollocks like that, but he knows I haven't done anything. He tested the boy on whether I had any marks or defining features, and he didn't mention my pussy piercing or the two tattoos on my front. I did have to show them to the Head though – that was funny!"

"You undressed for him!"

"Yeah! He nearly spat his teeth out!"

"I bet! So you're sure it'll be ok?"

"Not sure, but..." She shrugs.

We eat.

"So, did my stuff arrive?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Three big suitcases full. Unopened as you ordered."

She grins. "Good. I couldn't let The Boyfriend see me pack all the stuff I'm really going to wear this week, so the bags he put in your car is the boring stuff he thinks I'll be using."

"I don't know why he wouldn't like you dressed the way you are now. It's all I can do to not jump across the table and take you right here."

She stretches a leg under the table and presses her foot into my groin, rubbing her high heel against my hardening rod. "That's why he doesn't like it."

"You took your engagement ring off too."

"Yeah," she says, "I figured you'd want that."

"Maybe you should keep it on. It's a reminder that you're going to be a cheating slut this week, and I know that I like that, and I think you do too."

She smiles slyly, taking the ring from her purse and slipping it back on her wedding finger. She stabs her high heel into my stiff prick.

"I'm going to love you so much this week," I whisper, "that you're going to want to marry me instead."

"Ahem." A rude interruption from a tall blonde professional-looking guy; I take his lopsided smirk as a sign that he knows how good looking he is, and you should appreciate it too.

"Yes?" I ask.

He ignores me and stares straight at Emma.

"Hi, I'm Marc." He holds out a hand but Emma stares it down with an amused grin. "Can I take you out sometime?"

"No thanks," she replies, turning her attention back to me.

"I'll treat you to a real nice dinner, maybe the theatre..." He's persistent.

"I'm here with my boyfriend."

"Really? This guy?" 

It's not like I don't know how lucky I am, but ouch.

"I happen to love 'this guy' so much that I'm going to spend the next week fucking him behind my fiance's back." She flashes her engagement ring at him.

"You expect me to believe that? You're fucking this guy?"

Emma shakes her head in disbelief, and slides under the table. She unzips my fly and to my complete shock, she deepthroats my hard cock in one go, her nose buried into my lap. That's the first time she's swallowed all of it. Practice has made perfect, because that's how it feels.

She bobs her head up and down, gagging slightly, and I look around nervously – several nearby groups are looking our way, and murmurs seem to be spreading. The arrogant fuck who wouldn't take no for an answer does seem to have beat a hasty retreat though.

"Er, honey," I whisper, "he's gone, you can stop now."

She withdraws, taking a quick look around at the growing audience. "I don't want to. How close are you?"

"Not far away," I tell her.

She forces my dick back down her throat, locking her eyes on mine. Her tongue piercing feels fantastic.

I shift in my seat to give her a better angle, and I hear her gag.

She withdraws and spits on my cock, gripping and wanking it vigourously with her delicate digits, her engagement ring shining. She kisses the tip, then slowly takes it back in her mouth, inch by agonising inch, until her nose presses into my trimmed pubic hair.

"Ok, I'm pretty fucking close."

She sucks tightly, forming a perfect seal with her lips, and bobs until I moan far too loudly and suddenly ejaculate into the back of her throat. She swallows swiftly, making sure she has it all, then slurps at my dick with her bejewelled tongue and lusciously glossy lips.

"Er, we'd better get moving," I tell her, as I spot a concerned mother talking to a security guard and pointing animatedly in our direction.

"Ok," she giggles, and I help her to her feet, and we stride out, through our audience, most of them still staring, a few making us laugh by giving Emma a round of applause.

We hurry into my car, giggling the whole way; I gun the engine and accelerate out of the car park, onto the relative safety of the motorway.

"I can't believe you just did that!" I laugh.

"That was fun!" she smiles.

"You're incredible. That prick was right, you are too good for me!"

"No he's not! I did it to prove him wrong! You must know that by now?"

"I know you could have anybody you want," I say. "You've got to admit, he was closer to your league than I am."

"If I can have anyone I want – I want you! Listen: this week, I'm going to fulfil every dirty, naughty, kinky fantasy you have before I settle down as a mother. And maybe I'll go a bit further too. I'm not going to hold anything back. No limits."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. My body is yours for the next 7 days."

"I don't want just your body, though..."

"Ok, my body, my soul, my everything is yours. I'm yours. For this week, I'm going to give myself to you and do things with you that I will never do with anyone else – including The Boyfriend. Ok?"

"Ok," I smile. Then, "I wouldn't have minded if you had fucked him."

"I'm still not sure I believe that."

"I swear to you. The only people in the world I wouldn't want you to fuck are The Boyfriend, my mum and my dad."

"Your mum?!"

"Yeah."

"I'm not really that interested in fucking other guys. I've got you."

"That's sweet, but I think, if it was the right guy..."

She ponders for a moment. "Knowing you wouldn't mind... it is kind of liberating. And hot."

"There must have been a time when someone hit on you, and you were tempted."

"I guess. Yeah."

"Tell me about him."

"It was a her."

"Oh fuck," I moan.

"It was at Cathy's hen party, and we went to this right meat market; I mean, sluts everywhere. I was at the bar and someone put a hand on my bum; it was this girl who looked a bit like Jessica Alba, and she asked me to dance."

"You said no?"

"Yeah. I kind of wish I'd said yes now."

"So do I! Have you ever done anything with a girl?"

"Not really. Me and Cathy les-ed it up one night to try to get some guys to leave us alone..."

"Woah woah woah, what?! You do realise that would draw a crowd of guys, not get rid of them?"

"Well, now, yeah."

"What did you do? To les it up?" I ask, my dick hardening again.

"We just kind of danced close, holding each other and that, y'know?"

"Did you kiss?"

"No. Well, she kissed me on the neck, but that's when they cheered and we realised it wasn't working, so we stopped."

"By the end of this week, you're going to fuck a woman."

She shrugs, smiling coyly. "If you say so."

"And I'm gonna make you a MILF."

"Yeah you are."

***

We agreed to stop off at the supermarket just before we get back to my place – I'm going to cook a romantic dinner for the pair of us.

I push the trolley with one hand while my other strokes Emma's bum over (and occasionally under) her t-shirt-cum-mini-dress. The click of her stiletto heels sounds out on the hard floor, and everyone's attention seems to be on her. And this is Saturday afternoon – the place is packed.

"What do you fancy?" I ask, well aware of the double entendre.

"Nothing too heavy, I want meat for dessert," she says, squeezing my semi-hard prick through my jeans.

"How about just a salad, then? And maybe some strawberries for the first dessert?"

We grab some salad and strawberries, and next up is the drinks aisle. 

"I already got you some beer, diet coke and vodka, is there anything else you want?"

"Some of these." She grabs a large bottle of WKD and reaches over to place it in the trolley, her t-shirt riding up and showing the perfect lower curve of her arse cheeks. She notices me notice, and moves more slowly and deliberately as she gets a couple more, then a couple more. I grin. 

"Every time I've had a bottle of this before going out, I've always had a good night," she reasons.

"I bet!" I laugh.

As we browse the aisles, I realise we've gained a tail – a couple of young lads are following us. Or, to be more precise, following Emma.

I decide to have a little fun.

"Em, can you get that chocolate sauce up there?"

She looks at me a little suspiciously; it's easily within my reach (even with her 4-inch heels pushing her up to almost six foot tall, I've still got a few inches on her).

As she stretches, her t-shirt lifts, and I watch the lads' faces as her bare pert buttocks peek out.

She must have heard their gasps and excited whispers, because she looks to me and shakes her head in amusement.

"How about some ice cream?" I ask.

"Ok."

We head to the freezer section and peruse, stalkers still in tow.

"What would you like?" Emma asks.

"I'm not sure. What's down there?" I say, pointing at the bottom shelf.

She smiles at me naughtily. "I'll see."

Keeping her legs together and perfectly straight, she uses her dancer's flexibility to bend at the waist, her head down to knee level, her arse on complete display to anyone down the whole length of an aisle. A pierced tit falls free from her top, but she acts like she's completely engrossed in the ice cream. 

The lads are taking photos on their phones. Emma tries to hide a smile as she hears the simulated shutter sound go time after time, and I watch a drop of her nectar slide quickly down her toned leg.

Still she holds the pose – it seems like it's been forever. An old woman pushes past me, harumphing in disgust, but a little group has gathered to ogle with me. Emma's causing quite a jam.

Eventually, she stands tall again, 'realising' that the tub she was looking for was on a higher shelf all along. She struts to me, boob still hanging out, and puts the ice cream in the trolley, again bending way forward. 

The lads appear to be recording video now – they look like they've won the lottery.

Bubbling, Emma asks, "Is that everything?"

"Just cream now, I think."

I pass a few big cartons of cream to her, which she again places carefully at the bottom of the trolley. A passing professional woman stops:

"Excuse me, your top... you, er, a wardrobe malfunction," she stammers.

Emma acts embarrassed and covers herself, and I notice a brief spark of mutual attraction between them. As she continues on, I whisper to Emma: "What about her?"

"What about...? Oh," she grins wickedly, "I like your thinking, but I want someone a little more... buxom."

"You want a girl with big tits," I laugh.

"Yep. At least a D cup – like Cathy's. Hers are really nice, even though they're fake." She pushes her boobs together. "I thought about getting mine done."

"No! Yours are perfect," I tell her.

"Mine are only C's. All my friends have got bigger ones. I think double D's would be good."

"All your friends have got fakes," I point out.

"So? They still look and feel good."

"Feel?" I query. "You've felt them?"

"Cathy's," she admits, sheepishly. "They felt really nice. And when she gets them changed next time, she's going up to an E cup, so I'll look even smaller. C'mon, you've got to admit you'd like it if I was a bit bigger?"

"Maybe, but size isn't everything," I wink, and she giggles. "You'll probably find they get bigger during pregnancy."

She smiles. "Yeah. We'll see."

***

We arrive in my peaceful cul-de-sac and I park in front of the block of four flats that my small one-bedroom apartment is in. There are a few kids chasing each other around the three buildings that are bunched together; a small communal grass area around the back is all you could loosely describe as a "garden".

"Why is travelling always so tiring?" she asks.

"Yeah, I don't know. Want to watch last night's Blacklist? I recorded it for you."

"Thanks sweetie," she smiles.

My flat's upstairs – I let her go first so I can see up her t-shirt, and she gives her hips an extra sway, showing off for me.

We go inside and Emma claims the chaise longue-part of my sofa, undoing the clasps and slipping off her sexy heels as I put the food away in the kitchen.

I return and put the tv on, and we cuddle together as we watch. It's so nice, holding her, feeling intimate with the woman I love.

Eventually, though, I can't help myself. The show's interesting, but I let my left hand wander, stroking down her shoulder, then lower, over the exposed side of her boob. She has the slightest smile, but doesn't take her eyes from the screen.

I reach across with my other hand and rub her thigh, gradually inching higher. She opens her legs slightly for me, and my right hand goes straight to her still-damp clam. My left hand pulls her boob free and I caress it lovingly, playing with her little silver nipple ring.

She continues watching the tv as I kiss her neck until, no longer able to hold myself back, I rip her t-shirt open, all the way down, and it flaps wide, her glorious body now open to me.

I run my fingers over the butterfly ink on her stomach. "No tan lines?"

She smiles. "Nope! Every day last week, after I fucked The Boyfriend into submission, I'd go sunbathe in the back garden."

"Nude?" I ask, and she nods. "Nice!"

"I think my old neighbour thought so! His wife wasn't as sure...!"

"Oh God..." I groan, and bury my face in her sweet pussy, lapping and kissing her lips. She squirms beneath me as I rub her clit, the diamond I put in its hood glinting at me.

"I've never seen you so smooth," I say.

"I got waxed for you," she purrs.

I slip two fingers into her, then a third. I blow gently on her clit.

"Oh God, don't stop," she moans, lifting her hips up to my face.

"I told you, if you got this..." I nibble the piercing in her pussy and she humps into my face, "...I'd never stop."

"Never stop," she breathes, staring into my eyes.

I lick and slober all over her, pumping my fingers in and out at pace.

I force a fourth finger into her tight cunt and suck hard on her little nub, and she cums, a powerful stream of her ejaculate flowing into my waiting mouth. She jerks and quivers, her eyelids fluttering, and I shower her with tiny kisses until her breathing flattens and she pulls me to her to make-out.

I collapse at her side, beat.

"I need a nap," she sighs.

"Come with me," I tell her, and take her by the hand.

I lead her into the bedroom, where her three large cases are piled against one wall. Against the opposite wall is a new wardrobe I built.

"New furniture?" she asks.

"I put all my clothes in there, so..." I open the large double doored wardrobe built into one wall, and it's completely bare "...you can put all your stuff in here."

She kisses me. "You're so sweet."




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 05



I kiss her back. "You get some sleep and unpack; I'll have dinner ready for after."

Sleepy and naked, she slides into my bed and curls into a ball. She looks so cute, I want to cuddle up to her and just hold her forever.

But I 've got other things to sort out. I take a suit and shirt from my new wardrobe, and leave her to dream.

***

While Emma was sleeping, I got showered and changed into my dinner suit, complete with bow tie. I know how she likes me in a suit. I prepare the salads with some chicken and caesar dressing. The table that I normally use as a computer desk is really a dinner table, so that was cleared and moved into the centre of the living room. I decorated it, made it look nice.

I hear high heels clicking on the wooden floor in my bedroom, which must mean she's about ready. I light the candles on the table and dim the lights. I go back into the kitchen to bring through our food.

"Oh wow, this is beautiful," I hear her say, "and you're looking goood!" I pick up our plates of salad, turn and...

I drop the main course all over the floor. My fantasy has come to life.

She's wearing the bridesmaid dress – the pink latex tube that her friend wanted her to wear, and has been top of my fantasy list ever since. Her boobs are nearly spilling out of the top; I can just make out her areolas, piercings and tattoos through the skin-tight translucent material; and the bottom of the dress is just barely long enough to cover her crotch. On her feet, she has my old favourite silver high-heeled stilettos – again, straight from my fantasy. Her hair is curled and extended and falling over one bare shoulder, like she wore it at her birthday party. Bright pink lip gloss that matches the dress, and heavy dark eye make-up with long fake lashes, lend her the appearance of a very high-price whore. And yet...

Grinning at the mess I've made, she still looks cute. How is that even possible, to be so cute and so slutty simultaneously?

"I..."

I am literally speechless in the face of the most beautiful, cute, and sexy woman ever to grace this planet.

She giggles. "If I'd known that would be your reaction, I'd have warned you! Good job I'm not that hungry."

"There aren't words to do you justice," I tell her, and she sashays to me and gives me a kiss. I let my hands slide around her waist and rub up and down, loving the feel of the latex. "Oh my God," I whisper.

"Feels good, huh?" she breathes. "I am so horny right now. You clear up, I'll get the dessert."

Tearing my body away from her, but not my eyes, I watch as she gets the strawberries, chocolate sauce and cream. Kneeled on the floor, picking up the broken plates, I can clearly see her shining cunt up her tiny dress.

She waits for me to finish and sit at the table, then lowers her bum onto my lap, my rock hard prick pressing against her cheeks. I glide my hands around her, holding her to me, loving the sensation.

"I thought we could share these," she smiles naughtily.

She dips a strawberry into the cream and holds it for me to bite into. It tastes good. I do the same for her, and her delicate nibble is so cute, I smother her neck with wet kisses.

She wriggles her bum in my lap. It feels incredible.

"If it doesn't work out at school, you could be a lapdancer," I groan. "Actually, you should be a lapdancer anyway."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me rubbing myself over the dicks of strange men."

"Oh fuck yes."

"Teasing them, letting them wonder if they could fuck me." She pours some cream over her latex-encased tits, and it runs down the inside and outside of the sexy material. "You want me to let them fuck me, don't you?"

I moan as I lick the cream from her tits, pulling the top of her dress down and sucking as much as I can of her pierced breast into my mouth. I grab some chocolate sauce and empty it all over her chest, and she giggles as I lose myself, slurping and burying my face in her overwhelming sexiness.

She pours some more cream, this time on her neck, and I lap at it hungrily, my hands roaming free now, wanting to feel every glorious millimetre of her incredible body.

She pulls herself away from me and leans over the table; her boobs pressing against the glass surface, her legs straight, the pink latex just barely clinging to her skyward-pointing bum.

She hands me the cream with a grin, and I dribble it over her lower back and bum, watching it trickle down in hot little rivers which I lap up eagerly. A little stream runs down her arsecrack and I follow it, my tongue finding her tightest hole and searching inside.

"Oh God," she moans. "Deepthroating wasn't the only thing I've been practicing for you," she mutters as I tongue-fuck her. "Remember what I said you have to do to me for me to be a proper slut for you?"

Stunned, I pause and stare at her. She looks back over her shoulder at me and smiles.

"Yeah, I want you to fist my little arsehole."

"Are you sure?"

"When I ask you to do something, don't ask if I'm sure. I'm a fucking slut; your filthy whore. Treat me like it."

"Ok," I say, and slap her arse. She jumps in surprise, and I do it again.

This time she moans.

I soak her arse in cream, holding her puckered hole open as far as I can with two fingers and letting it run inside. I pump into her with three fingers and, although she's tight, it's not as difficult to stretch her out as I thought it would be.

I squeeze my little finger in too. All four fingers in. Her sphincter is gripping me hard.

"Come on," she groans, "don't worry about hurting me. Just fucking do it."

So I point in my thumb and shove, using my other hand on the tattoo on her lower back to hold her still. She pushes back against me, my hand slowly disappearing, Emma grimacing and moaning in pain, until...

The widest part slips past her sphincter, and my whole hand is inside her. She breathes deeply in lustful relief as I marvel at the amazing sight of her arsehole stretched around my wrist.

"Take a photo," she urges me, and I quickly take a few with her looking back over her shoulder and posing a variety of smiles, from wanton whore to cute girly-girl; and then a photo with her showing off her engagement ring – a reminder that she's cheating, and that she loves it. That we both love it.

"Fuck me with your hand inside," she orders. I pull out my pole and line it up at her pussy. It's actually quite hard to get inside and, when I'm in, I can feel the pressure of my hand against my dick through her internal walls. It's incredible.

I slowly start to slide my cock in and out.

"Impregnate me," she groans, humping back at me.

I ball my hand into a fist inside her, and she cries out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"How do you like having both holes filled?" I ask.

"I fucking love it!"

"Imagine how much hotter it would be if they were both dicks. Two big rods pleasuring you." I speed up my thrusts.

"Oh my fucking God!"

"Two men only interested in pleasuring you. One dick in your slutty cunt. One dick in your slut arsehole."

"YES!" she screams.

I pound my cock and my fist into her, simultaneously and roughly. Her moaning has become one long and continuous erotic sound, rising in pitch until she's screaming the house down, and she climaxes in a frenzy, her ejaculate one long powerful stream, her whole body convulsing and vibrating. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen or felt, and I plow myself as deep as I can inside her, and I cum, filling her with burst after burst of my baby-making batter. That seems to trigger a second wave of Emma's orgasm, and I can feel her hot cunt milking me for all I'm worth.

It takes several minutes for us both to recover. I remove my fist from her arse as carefully as I can, as she whimpers and quivers with little aftershocks. I sit back on the chair and pull her to me, cradling her on my lap.

She buries her face in my shoulder and gently sobs.

I tenderly run a finger down her cheek and lift her chin so I can stare deep into her teary eyes. "Hey hey, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

She smiles weakly at me, and I feel the love flowing from her. "I'm great. I'm just a little sad that normal sex won't be enough anymore."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "So you enjoyed it?"

"Couldn't you tell?" she grins. "It was the best I've ever had. You're the best I've ever had. I'm just happy we've still got a week to try and top it!"



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 06



HALF TERM, DAY 2, SUNDAY

I awake to the smell of pancakes and the sound of high heels clicking on my kitchen floor. What a fantastic combination.

I clamber out of bed, not bothering to put any clothes on, and let my morning wood lead me.

A vision of beauty and sexuality stands at my kitchen worktop, facing away from me, unaware of me fucking her with my eyes. Emma's blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun, loose strands falling around the thin straps of her black top that is cropped so high, it can barely be covering the bottom of her breasts. The hot tramp stamp tattoo on her lower back is completely visible, her leggings riding very low on her hips and so nearly showing her butt crack. 

And they're the type of leggings I'd been pestering her to get – black, shiny, wet-look. It's abundantly clear she's not wearing anything under them – they are so tight, and moulded so perfectly to her body, that she may as well not be wearing them... except the glistening material accentuates the curves of her perfect bum and shapely legs, and is sexy as hell. 

And finally, on her feet are a pair of pointy toe, black patent leather boots, with 5-inch metal spike heels and silver buckles running from the top at the knee down to the ankle. They look like something a fetish model would wear, and are very fucking hot.

She turns to face me (I don't know how she knew I was here – maybe she heard my jaw hit the floor?), and my already-hard cock lurches of its own accord. Her make-up screams goth slut, with lipstick of such a dark red that it's almost black, and the same colour shadowing her heavily-lined grey-blue eyes. Her top must be at least one size too small, because her tits are squeezed up and together and look like they're trying to escape. Her tattoos, the butterfly and all of the top half of her fairy, clash with the goth make-up and the "love me til we die" slogan scrawled across her crop-top.

But again, I come back to those leggings... From the front, I can fully appreciate how tight they are. Her camel toe is clear for anyone to see, and the outline of her clit hood piercing is very obvious. I knew she'd look good in them, but I had no idea she'd look this good. No-one should look this good.

She strikes a pose and gives me a filthy grin.

I fall to my knees and crawl to her.

"My Goddess... please, don't move. Please, let me pleasure you."

I tentatively kiss the vicious pointy toe of her boots, looking up to her for approval. She locks eyes with me, an amused look on her face.

I kiss the shiny leather again, then lick up to the first buckle. I kiss each one in turn, working my way up her leg until I reach the top, where I stop and stare at her prominent pussy.

Gently, I run my fingers over her mound. We both moan. 

"It's a good job they're designed to look wet, or anyone would be able to see how soaked you are down here," I breathe, stroking her softly.

"They feel soooo good against my bare kitty. I'm gonna replace all my other leggings with these," she purrs.

And outside of work, she usually lived in leggings. This is excellent news.

She slips her fingers under the waistband, as though to slide them down her hips, but I stop her, and rub her lips a little harder through the clingy fabric.

"I'm gonna make you soak them, then we're going out and you're going to smell of sex, as well as look like it."

She groans and gyrates her hips over my fingers, pressing against them, wanting more, wanting them inside her.

My spare hand fondles her thigh, loving the feel and the sound of the material stretching as my fingers claw at her. I kiss the waistband, just above where her hard little nub juts out, begging for attention.

My fingers are jamming at her pussy now, straining to get through the black shine, her gushing juices squelching as she throws a leg over my shoulder and pulls me further into her.

My lips find her clit and I nibble; she digs the heel of her sexy boot into my back, and I bite her clit, hard, and suck on it until she cums in a torrent, drenching her leggings from the inside, soaking through to my hands and face. Her legs go wobbly, and I grab her butt to hold her up; and it feels so good, I can't help squeezing her cheeks and teasing her arsehole, which sends a little aftershock coursing through her.

She leans back against the kitchen counter to steady her shaky legs. I gaze at her as she pulls at the saturated wet-look membrane covering her crotch, and tingle at the snap of it pinging back into place.

"I'm soaking," she giggles. "I can't go out like this."

"But that's the point. This week is supposed to be about our fantasies, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, wet clothes is... kind of a thing I've got."

Her eyebrow rises; the corner of her mouth curls in a smile. "You mean like wet t-shirt contests and that?" she asks.

"Yeah. And jeans. And... well, lots of clothes look hot when soaked, if they're on the right woman."

"So that's why you've been pestering me to get some of these." She runs her fingers over the leggings absentmindedly; I can't help but watch.

"Yeah," I admit. "They are so fucking hot on you, I'm surprised you haven't melted the floor."

"Hmm... sounds like we've got a plan for today. See how many different ways we can get me all wet!"

I smile up at her. "You are fucking perfect."

"Only to you."

***

We head out of the town centre car park; my hand resting on her bum, her hand in my back pocket. She hasn't changed her clothes, only added a short black leather jacket that still leaves bare her toned, tattoed and pierced stomach, and her tramp stamp.

Her eyes are lowered – I think she's a little embarrassed at the number of stares she's getting, and not just from guys. Some of the looks are a little disdainful, but I know they'd fuck Emma given the chance.

We turn away from the huge shopping centre, and walk to the old high street, where most of the shops used to be before the major redevelopments. It's relatively quiet as we near the old town square, and the water feature at its centre.

The fountain is basically two circular pools – a higher one of about 8 foot diameter, which fills and overflows into the lower pool, about 4 foot below. 

An elderly couple sit on the lower pool's edge, sharing a pack of crisps. We take a seat around the opposite side.

I remove Emma's digital SLR camera and set it to "film" mode. Emma squeezes my hand nervously.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," I tell her.

She gazes up into my eyes. "Oh, I really want to."

She spins 180 degrees so she's facing into the fountain, and lowers her fetish boots into the water, the water lapping around the top of them. She kicks her feet playfully and shrugs off her little jacket.

Looking to me, and seeing the camera pointed at her, she smiles coyly and stands in the pool, splashing as she walks to the middle.

She lowers herself to her haunches... then to her knees... then she sits, completely submerging her hot leggings and sexy boots, the cold water just reaching the very bottom of her crop-top.

She lifts a dripping heel into the air, pointing her toe and bending her knee, the wet boot and leggings looking utterly fabulous. Her eyes lock into mine through the camera lens as she strokes her taught thigh.

Her eyes flick down to the tent in my jeans and she licks her lips seductively with her pierced tongue. 

She leans back, letting the water come up to her neck, then sits back up. Her tiny top, which was tight to begin with, is clinging to her tits so that the bumps of her nipple rings are even more blatant.

She twists and spins so that she's lying on her front, facing me. Her cleavage is obscene. She raises her spike-heeled boots into the air behind her head, smiling sweetly, then shifts onto all fours, her bum high in the air, showing off her tramp stamp tattoo and the tip of her butt crack.

My dick is starting to hurt in my pants.

She swivels again, this time in the same pose, on all fours, but facing away from me. She wiggles her arse, and I zoom in on the most obvious camel toe I've ever seen. She teasingly slides a finger over her mound, pressing the wet, shiny material between her lips, and she giggles when she hears me moan.

She crawls forward, and I suddenly notice the small audience that has gathered. The crisp-eating elderly couple have scarpered, but a few curious couples and the obligatory group of teenage lads have stopped to watch this incredible girl cavort in the chilly water.

Emma is now kneeling under the waterfall from the upper pool, the cascade soaking her. She claws and scratches at her thigh, then grabs her tits, kneading them vigourously. A hand slides slowly down, under the waistband of her leggings...

"Ok you, out of there. And you, put the camera away."

A policeman spoils our fun. Emma, clearly frustrated, sashays to the edge, and I give her a hand to climb from the fountain. She gets a smattering of applause – becoming a regular occurance for her!

I placate the policeman, promising we won't be back in there later, and that we'll go now to find Emma a change of clothes. Dubious, he nevertheless lets us go, although I notice he's watching us carefully – or maybe he just can't tear his eyes from Emma's behind.

Emma's shivering, but can't stop giggling. I put my arm around her and hold her close as we walk, trying to warm her up.

"What are you laughing about?" I ask.

"I can't believe what a turn on that was. I was going to frig myself off right there!"

"Fucking arsehole policeman," I mutter.

That just sets her giggling again.

I steer her into the huge shopping centre, to the escalators. As we rise, I let my hand wander to her arse, giving it a little pinch.

The group of teenage lads have followed, and are on the steps below us. They are laughing and joking about how much I must have paid for Emma, and what she'll do for that kind of money.

She lowers her eyes, seeming a little embarrassed. I kiss her on the temple and stroke her bum. She sticks her butt out a bit, wanting me to squeeze her arse a little harder, which I do, and she opens her legs wider. I run my hand down between them and fondle her engorged pussy.

"The only problem with these leggings," I whisper in her ear, "is that I'd have to pull them down to get my cock in you."

She moans sexily and wriggles against my fingers.

The comments from below have been replaced by stunned silence. Emma and I share a grin, and hop off the top of the escalator.

Our tail leaves us as we go into the nearest department store, past rack upon rack of girl's clothes, toward the women's section.

"Ooh, hold on," she says, tugging my arm to make me stop. "That's cute."

'That' is a pink t-shirt with a silver sequin heart on the front. She picks one out. It looks tiny.

"And they've got it in white too," she enthuses.

"Are you thinking of it for your sister?" I ask.

"No, for me, silly."

I guffaw. "Er, Emma, these are for girls. You'll never fit in them."

"Are you calling me fat?" she pouts playfully.

"No, I'm saying your tits are too big to fit in a top for an 8 year old. Actually, even your sister would struggle to fit in that."

Emma sticks her tongue out, her stud glinting. "We'll see."

We continue on, Emma swerving through the assault course with practiced grace, even in her 5-inch heels.

"You want me in jeans, right?"

"How about these?" I ask, pointing at a mannequin that's wearing a pair of faded light-blue jeans, with a ultra-low waist and a bootcut, and a few little worn bits and holes on the thighs.

"Yeah, they're nice. You realise they're meant to be worn over my boots though, right?"

I shrug. "I think that'd look hot."

She grins, and searches for the jeans I've picked.

"Sorry, they haven't got them in my size," she says.

"Bugger," I swear. "Have they got them in a size smaller?"

She grins again, and pulls a pair of the jeans from the rack. "Ok," and heads to the changing rooms.

Fortunately, it's quiet today and there's no attendant, so Emma nips in unnoticed. 

I wait outside, happy there aren't many shoppers today – a guy hanging around changing rooms alone can look a little creepy if he's not careful. Especially when he's still sporting wood...

Emma's head pops through the curtain. "Hey, I need a hand."

I hurry through before anyone can see me. Credit to her – she's got the white top on, though it's so indecently tight and stretched so thin that you can see each nipple ring outlined clearly. It is, however, obvious why she's called for my help – Emma can't get the jeans up over her bodacious bottom.

"I think they look great like that," I tease, and she playfully swats at me, accidentally hitting the tent in my trousers.

"Oh God, you're still hard," she giggles, as she gropes my dick.

"Careful," I warn.

"You're that close?" she asks, surprised. I nod.

Quickly, she tugs the jeans back down to her knees and leans against the cubicle wall. "If you're going to spurt, at least put it somewhere useful," and she wiggles her bum at me, her tramp stamp looking so tantalising and slutty.

I'm so horny, I don't need to be told twice. I pull out my pole, line it up, grab her by the hips and push all the way into her dripping, tight hole. We both moan, a little too loudly.

"Oh God, you're so wet," I whisper as I speed up, sawing in and out of her burning pussy.

"I've just been swimming," she giggles.

"Not that kind of wet," I grunt, my thrusts continuing to get harder. "Sorry, this isn't going to last long."

She rubs her pierced clit as I pound her into the wall. "I'm right with you," she purrs, and I unload into her, my hot sperm triggering her to squirt her orgasm all over the jeans around her legs.

As we regain our breath, and I tuck myself away, we notice the mess she's made.

"Well, we've got to buy them now!" she giggles. "Help me."

I pull the jeans up her legs and, good Lord, they're tight around her hips and bum. I'm not sure they'll fit, but we're damn well gonna try.

I heave and yank, lifting her off her feet a couple of times. She can't help giggling, and I have to shush her to keep her quiet.

Suddenly, a knock on the wall and a curt "Out, now please!"

One more heave and the jeans are on; Emma breathes in and pulls up the small fly; and I pull back the curtain. The attendant battleaxe is waiting for us.

"Sorry, I was just helping my girlfriend get these jeans on," I sheepishly explain.

The battleaxe peers past me and scowls at Emma's state of dress (including the wet patch on her bum and down one leg).

"You're paying for them," she orders.

"Yep," I say, as Emma gathers together her other clothes, "that's where we were headed now."

She doesn't look like she believes me, and mutters, "Follow me."

I let Emma walk in front of me, and take the opportunity to ogle her. The jeans look they're painted on; they ride incredibly low and barely reach the top of her butt crack, making her arse look incredibly fuckable; and bootcut really elongates her legs even more. Just the pointy toe and the bottom couple of inches of her metal heels peek out at the bottom.

We reach the till and the battleaxe leaves us to pay, and go back to her post. I don't know why she's acting so high and mighty – she'd deserted her area long enough for us to fuck on her territory. Ha!

Emma's explaining to the cute girl behind the counter that she's buying what she's got on, plus the pink version of the t-shirt. And there comes the problem – getting the security tags off what she's wearing, because the device for removing them is fixed into the desk.

Emma shrugs, lifts herself onto the counter, and lies back virtually on top of the device. Her flat stomach, with its piercing and tattoos, looks fantastic, and the cute girl blushes as she has to stick her fingers inside the waistband, down Emma's arse crack, to remove the tag. Emma tries to hide her smile, but I can tell she's having fun.

She wriggles further along the counter, and the cute girl does the same with the tag on the t-shirt, tickling the back of Emma's neck as she does.

I help Emma down, and she gives me a hot kiss, full of pierced tongue.

I pay the cute girl for the clothes, and Emma catwalks out of the store. It seems like she's really starting to enjoy acting the slut.

***

We stopped for lunch. Emma asked for a jug of water with a little twinkle in her eye. When it arrived, she fished out all the ice and dropped it in her glass, then tipped the jug over her chest! Her tiny white t-shirt went nearly see-through; her nipple piercings could probably be seen from the other side of the room. Then, while we ate, she periodically rubbed an ice cube over her nipples – keeping them hard, and the t-shirt wet. When the waiter returned, he politely asked us to leave.

On the walk back to my place, Emma skipped into somebody's front garden and soaked herself under the sprinkler that was watering its pristine lawn. I don't think the geezer who lived there was impressed, because he came flying out and chased us away, showing surprising pace for a big fella. By that time, though, Emma's jeans and t-shirt were thoroughly drenched and looked amazing.

Fortunately, my flat was only around the corner. We went straight into the shower, both fully clothed, and I fucked her slutty arse before dumping my load in her fertile cunt.

We were both going to make sure she was pregnant by the end of this week – and I was still banking on making it so much fun for her, that she'd want to bring up the baby with me instead of The Boyfriend.

And we're going to have more fun tonight. I've got Emma's other new t-shirt, the pink one, and I'm sandpapering the areas where her tits will be, making the material that bit thinner so that when it gets wet (and I'm going to make sure that it does), everyone will see everything.

***

I told Emma we were going to a club tonight, so she went to prepare in her normal manner – she took a large bottle of WKD and locked herself away to get ready.

I thank the Heavens again that she isn't one of those girls that takes hours to get ready, because the anticipation is torture.

I know she's going to look fucking hot, but what will she be wearing? She's been teasing about all the leather and latex she's bought for this week, but all I've seen so far is the bridesmaid dress and the boots she wore this morning.

There has to be more. I know there's more.

The door opens. 

There's more.

She's wearing black latex leggings. Fuck me, they look incredible, like a shiny second skin with a zip from the very low-riding front waistband, disappearing between her legs and, as she gives me a twirl, it reaches halfway up her arse too. Oh God, her arse looks fucking fantastic! The leggings are so tight, there is absolutely no way she could be wearing underwear – not that she ever seems to anymore.

She's wearing the pink girly top I 'prepared' earlier, without a bra; and matching pink high heels with a 1.5-inch hidden platform and a 6-inch heel. The toe is pointy, and there's some black laces detailing on the heel that helps mate the whole outfit together. She always puts thought into these things.

Her grey-blue eyes are made up dark as usual, with a hint of pink to the shadow; and she's got a bright pink lip gloss that lures me to kiss her. Her blonde locks are pulled back in messy pigtails, with a few loose strands framing her pretty face; and she's wearing a black leather studded choker. She looks sweet and slutty at the same time, and I'm torn as to whether we should go out, or I should just fuck her right here and now.

She smiles at my massive grin. "I've solved the problem of you not being able to fuck me in leggings," she says, as she slides the zip down, flashes the diamond in her kitty, then zips back up.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 06



"Not just a pretty face," I tell her as I take her in my arms, copping a feel of her glorious butt and kissing her, long and hard. I debate again the plan of going out, but am interrupted by the horn of the taxi arrived to pick us up.

"Lets go."

***

This hasn't been the most relaxing journey ever – the taxi driver has spent more time gawking at Emma in his mirror than watching the road. But Emma, rather than worrying, seems to be encouraging him as she caresses her thigh, her fingers getting closer to her crotch with each leisurely stroke.

We pull onto the long road where the nightclub is; its neon sign visible from even this far away. Stopping at traffic lights; it's tipping down with rain. Which actually gives me an idea...

"We'll get out here, thanks," I tell the driver.

"But honey, it's throwing it down," Emma protests.

I smile a wicked smile; the light bulb turns on in her head, and she smiles back at me.

I pay the driver and, when I turn back around, Emma's t-shirt is already going translucent from the rain. I slide my arm around her slim waist and we walk toward the club.

"I wish your school kids could see you now," I tell her.

"I'm not sure I'd be this brave if I were at home," she giggles.

We reach the front door of the club, and the bouncer doesn't take his eyes from Emma's pierced nipples as he waves us in.

Out of the rain and into the heat of the club, Emma notices the reason we're here – a sign for tonight's wet t-shirt contest. And it's due to start in 5 minutes.

"I should have known." She rolls her eyes at me and grins.

"Will you do it?" I ask.

"I already am," she giggles, looking at the state of her top, "I may as well try and get a prize! But I'm gonna need a drink."

She takes my hand and pulls me around the dancefloor to the bar, swaying her hips to the beat as we go. I bump into a few people, not watching where I'm going, only watching Emma's bum and the way the disco lights reflect off the shiny globes of her butt cheeks. I'm in dreamland.

She wriggles through a gap and points her breasts at the nearest barman. I stand close behind her and press my semi-hard dick into her latex-clad arse. She leans back into me and gives a little wiggle; the barman ignores all the others who'd been waiting and makes a beeline for Emma.

"Four Angel's Tits please," she shouts over the too-loud music, then turns to me. "Do you want anything?"

I shake my head, amused, and watch the barman pour four glasses of vodka, then splash some Tabasco sauce into each.

I pay, as usual, and Emma downs the first shot, shuddering at the kick it gives her; then downs the other three in quick succession.

We move away from the bar, and I point over to where she needs to register for the contest. She nods, gives me a quick snog, then disappears into the crowd.

I muscle my way through the masses toward the stage. They're getting ready; a hose is being uncoiled by a smarmy looking guy with a hands-free mic and a gold sequin jacket.

The music fades out and the Host steps to the front of the stage.

"Good evening one and all, are you having a good night?"

A mass drunken "Yeah" answers him.

"Ok then, lets not waste any more time – lets get the girls out here."

Cheers, applause and wolf whistles great the assorted women who line up across the stage. The six girls are quite an assortment – in order: too skinny; too fat; petite and shy; voluptuous loud-mouth; hot; hottest (Emma).

Each are wearing the jeans or skirts they arrived in, but on top they're wearing a thin and tight white t-shirt with the club's logo and their number. Emma is contestant 6 and, even from where I'm standing, I can see the ink of her tattoos through the translucent t-shirt. It skims the latex on her thighs, just barely reaching her crotch.

"Don't they look great? Ok, this is the eliminator. We'll play one song, soak the girls, and your cheers at the end will determine who goes through to the final. Everybody ready?"

More cheers and applause. The music starts, some dance tune I don't recognise.

Assistants run on with buckets of water and throw them over the chests of the contestants. A couple of them, who must have gone up there on a dare or something because they really don't look into it, shy away, and dance awkwardly.

Number 5, who I reckon is Emma's biggest challenger, sticks her double-D cups out to receive the drenching, and dances like she belongs there. Her denim micro-skirt gets drenched too, and looks really good as she gyrates sexily.

As soon as the water hits Emma's top, it goes completely transparent, even to the point where I can make out the detail on her fairy tattoo. It thought the t-shirts she wore earlier were bad (or good?), but this is something else. Everything is on display.

I know I'm biased, but Emma's in a different league, and it's obvious the crowd agree because, all around me, everyone is turned to watch numbers 5 and 6 on the right of the stage. Both have got some moves and seem to be enjoying the attention, letting their hands wander and grope.

The music fades out far earlier than I thought it would, and the girls line up again.

The Host goes along the line – numbers 2 and 4 get a good reaction, but the cheer for number 5 makes all the others look tame. I yell and whoop for Emma, and it's arguable whether her or number 5 were more popular. It was close. Which should make for an interesting final, especially considering how competitive Emma is.

The four elimated girls are shown from the stage.

"Ok, the final! The two girls you've chosen will be playing for this," he holds up a magnum of champagne. "Each girl will get two minutes to please you while I keep the water coming," the Host bellows as he brandishes the hose. "We'll toss a coin to decide who goes first. Number 5, as defending champion, you can call it."

She calls heads.

"It's tails. Number 6, do you want to go first or second?"

Emma looks to me in the audience – I hold up two fingers.

"Ok, number 5 to go first."

Emma moves to the side and watches as number 5 does her best impression of an exotic dancer. She works the stage and works the crowd, pushing her big tits together, encouraging the Host to aim his hose at them. For her finale, she peels off her little skirt and finishes in just a black thong, t-shirt, and stripper heels.

The baying crowd loved it, and want more.

I can see that naughty little grin on Emma's face – the sexy look she gets when she lets go. This could be special.

The music starts up again for Emma, and the first thing she does is slip her heels off and turn her back to the crowd. The Host fires the steam of water over Emma's arse as she unzips her latex leggings, slowly, teasingly, all the way... then peels them down her legs!

As she's bent over, the t-shirt only reaches the top of her butt, and her arsehole and pussy are on full display to the whole club. 

The pissed-up patrons go crazy. Emma's got this won already.

She slips her heels back on so the t-shirt isn't all she's wearing, then twirls her leggings around her head and launches them into the crowd. A scrum breaks out trying to claim them.

She tugs the t-shirt down so that only the people closest to the stage can see the metal in her clit, then struts closer to the Host and his hose.

She dances in the spray, running her hands all over her body, giving special attention to her pierced tits. She spins and backs up to the Host, then grabs his hand and lowers it, pointing it up between her legs.

We all have a side-on view as the jet forces the t-shirt up over her hips, and she moves the hosepipe closer to her crotch.

Suddenly, she pulls the Host to her, rubbing her butt into his groin, and pulls his arm around her so that the water stream is right on her clit. She humps back at him and...

The music stops. Everyone boos. Emma keeps going for a moment, oblivious, close to cumming, until number 5 bad-naturedly stomps onto the stage and pulls the Host away from her. More boos.

The Host quickly composes himself, trying to hide his hard-on, and pulls both girls to the front of the stage. Emma fidgets, rubbing her thighs together, not seeming to care that her t-shirt is still up around her waist.

"What a contest!" sighs the Host. "Ok, so who do you want to win? Make some noise for number 5..."

There's a lot of noise. But the vast majority of it is derogatory – booing and abuse – and number 5 throws a strop and stamps off stage.

"Ok, well I guess that leaves number 6..."

I've been to concerts with a hundred thousand people, and I'm not sure I've ever heard a cheer as loud in all my life.

The Host hands Emma the magnum of champagne, and covers his mic with his hand as he whispers something in her ear. She shakes her head – presumably she was just propostioned.

She pops the cork and takes a swig from the big bottle, then tips most of it over her tits to a rapturous reception. She gives the remainder to a hot girl in the front row, coyly waves to the crowd, then vanishes off-stage.

I move as fast as I can against the masses to where Emma will be, and I see her looking for me, surrounded by her new fans. It looks like she's trying to turn them all away.

Finally, I reach her.

"I can't believe they stopped me then, I was just about to cum! You have to take me home, now!"

"Oh, I've got somewhere better," I tease.

"As long as it's close," she mutters.

"Do you want my shirt or something?" I ask.

She smiles sweetly but shakes her head.

Emma gets congratulations, applause, and wandering hands as we make our way to the exit. It's clear I'm with her, but it doesn't stop anyone within range from grabbing or groping at Emma's breasts, arse and pussy.

We hurry outside, the rain still falling, only slower, more persistent. Emma pulls her t-shirt back down in a futile attempt at decency, and I lead her by the hand, round the corner, and stop.

She smiles at me. "I like your thinking."

In the middle of the small square, in the shadow of the church, a variety of water jets fire water upto twelve feet in the air.

I give her a little spank on the butt, and she sashays toward the fountain. The water jets take it in turns of about ten seconds, switching randomly, so Emma stands over one that isn't on. She moves her legs so they're a little more than shoulder width apart, and waits, staring into my eyes with her naughtiest grin.

The jet below her bursts into her crotch, her t-shirt lifted up almost to her boobs. She moans and gyrates. She looks so impossibly hot that my dick is doing its utmost to escape my jeans.

And then the water stops again, and I can tell Emma's frustrated. She looks for the next one to come on, and quickly totters over to it on her sky-high heels, this time squatting and forcing the water to spray out in all directions.

Again, it stops before she can cum.

She slaps the ground in frustration. What she maybe doesn't know is that, every fifteen minutes, all the jets go off at once for 30 seconds.

"You," she points at me, and beckons me to her.

I stroll to her, teasing her by taking my time. She gets down on all fours, her pussy directly above one of the jets.

"Fuck me," she urges, and I am more than happy to help. "This damn thing will go off eventually."

It will, along with all the others. It's two minutes until eleven o'clock.

I ease into her sopping cunt. She humps back against me, and I bottom out inside her. I trace the outline of her tramp stamp over her drenched and almost invisible top.

"Don't be gentle, fucking give it to me," she begs.

Well, seeing as she asked so nicely.

No slow build up; I clamp my hands around her hips and pound into her, her bum slapping against my thighs. The jet next to us goes off and splashes around us.

She digs a sexy heel back into my thigh. "Harder," she pants. I slap her arse; the noise reverberates around the empty square.

Her pussy might be wet, but it's still so tight. I'm getting close already, but I want to hold off for another, ooh, thirty seconds...

"Let me know when your going to cum, I want to cum with you," she cries, as her fingers fly over her pierced clit.

"You'll hear bells," I grunt, and increase to full speed, despite desperately trying to hold on...

The church clock chimes; the bell tolls; and all the water jets fire, including the one pointed at our rutting genitalia. 

Her pussy clenches and holds me deep as I erupt into her, our orgasms perfectly synchronised. It's so powerful, it's all I can do not to collapse; Emma screams and thrashes, shoving herself back onto me, her pussy urgently milking me for all I'm worth.

The water being launched into the air, that was giving us at least some cover, shuts off entirely. We're now completely exposed in the middle of a square, in front of a church.

Emma's the first to recover, removing me from her hole and standing up. She giggles. God how I love that sound.

"Sooo," she says as I stagger to my feet, and she pulls her t-shirt back down. It almost covers her crotch. "Today was your fantasy..."

"...which means you get to choose tomorrow," I finish. "Got something in mind, have we?" I joke.

"Someone, yeah." Smiling at my dropped jaw, she sashays in the direction of home, leaving me to stare after her.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 07



HALF TERM, DAY 3, MONDAY

A Monday morning I've actually been looking forward to.

In typical British fashion, the rain of last night has been replaced by bright sunshine. Emma has again woken before me, but no smell of pancakes today. In fact, I can't hear her either.

I get up, stumbling through to the living room. A scribbled note has been left on the table:

"Look out the window! Emma xx"

I shuffle to the bay window, pulling open the curtains. Nothing out of the ordinary, until I stretch and look down...

In the small communal garden out back, in full view of at least 12 apartments, Emma is lying on her back, sunbathing. Completely naked. She's even taken her piercings out.

I hurry to put on a t-shirt and shorts, jump down the stairs, and refrain myself from sprinting around the building. As I approach, I see a little smile curl at the corner of her mouth.

"Good morning," she greets.

"Good morning gorgeous," I reply. She sits up as I kneel next to her, and we kiss. She's still got her tongue stud in – I love how it feels when she sticks it down my throat.

"I was half expecting your neighbour to beat you down here," she grins naughtily.

"Neil?" I ask. She nods. "Why, did he see you out here?"

"He was watching from his window. I think he thought I couldn't see him cos he jerked off and came all over the glass!"

"You're kidding!" I laugh. "You do know he's married, right?"

"Oops," Emma says, with her filthiest grin. "I guess he enjoyed me stroking my little kitty though."

"You played with yourself for him?"

"I'm still wet," she purrs, pulling my fingers to her moist mound.

"Did you cum?" I breathe, slipping a finger into her.

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh God," I say, and rip off my t-shirt, then reach for my shorts...

"Wait," she interrupts. "We've got another voyeur."

"So? I don't care."

"I want you to put my piercings back in first."

Her piercings are in a little pile on the towel beside her, along with her engagment ring, a pair of cream sandals with a 4-inch heel, and two of the tiniest scraps of white mesh material that could barely be called a bikini.

I take the curved bar for her belly button, a silver heart at one end, and slide it through the hole in her perfectly flat stomach.

"That's so beautiful," I tell her, letting my hands linger.

"I'm glad. I got them all for you. Is there anything else you want me to get?"

I ponder. "A tiny little stud in your nose would look good. And maybe a ring in the top of your ear... What do you think?"

"My body is yours, decorate it however you like."

"Seriously?" I slide the first small silver ring through her hard right nipple.

"Seriously. I love everything you asked me to get so far, and I love you." She stares deeply into my eyes. "I can't say no to you."

"Really? Because I could ask you to do some pretty bad stuff..."

She smiles. "Your dirty mind is one of the things I love about you."

I put in her left nipple ring, and give it a little tug. She moans.

"We've only scratched the surface. But if there's anything you don't want to do, I won't love you any less. You can always say no."

"I promise you: I won't."

I pick up the diamond jewellery for her pussy – her 30th birthday present from me.

"You like how slutty these piercings make you look." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ooh, yeah."

"You like having bits of metal through your most private parts?" I slip the bar through the hole in her clit hood; the clit itself standing to attention.

"Fuck yeah I do."

"You like showing them off to people? You like knowing that everyone who sees you've got a piercing in your pussy or your nipples... they all know you're a slut?"

I twist the piercing in her pussy. Her long, low groan is so erotic.

"I am a slut."

"You like acting like a slut, don't you?"

"I fucking love it!"

"Are you acting, or are you really a slut?"

"I'll be a real slut after tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?" I ask.

"It's your turn to choose, and we both know you're going to get me to fuck around."

"Not necessarily..." I tease.

"After tonight, I reckon you will!"

"Why, what are you scheming?" I ask.

"I thought we'd go to Duo."

I'm surprised, but not in a bad way. "The lesbian club?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"God no."

"Good. Fuck me."

I tug off my shorts and kneel over her. She lifts her legs wide and holds her ankles, spreading herself for me.

"I'm gonna find a girl to fuck, and you're going to watch," she sighs as I push my steel rod into her. "But you're not allowed to touch her."

"I don't want to touch her. I just want you."

I kiss her, slow and tender, as I rock in and out of her with long strokes. 

"Good answer," she purrs, and wraps her legs around my back, pulling me into her further.

I turn it up; still pulling out slowly, but pushing in with force, each stroke finishing with our thighs slapping together. She grunts lightly with every thrust.

She grabs a handful of her right breast, squeezing it, then pinching her nipple and twisting the ring until she squeeks with pain.

"If you're going to let other guys fuck me, you'd better hurry up and make me pregnant before they do," she pants.

"Yeah? You want me to fire a baby into you?"

"Oh God yeah, do it, fucking do it!"

I pull out of her suddenly and she cries out.

"On all fours," I order, and she spins over in double-quick time. Her face against the towel; back arched so beautifully; butt high in the air, inviting me in.

I give her a quick slap, which echoes off the close walls of my apartment building.

She peeks back over her shoulder. "Our peeping Tom has got his cock out."

"It'd be a shock if he didn't," I say as I grab her by the hips and enter her, all the way, and pound into her hard.

"Oh God, I never thought I'd enjoy being watched." She turns her head and locks eyes with me. "You've changed my whole life. You've changed me."

"You like it?"

"Fuck yeah," and she humps back at me, reaching down to rub her pierced clit.

"Show me," I mutter. "Finger your arse."

Hurriedly, she reaches around and forces a finger into her puckered hole. I slide one of mine in too, and twirl it around inside her, playing with her finger. She moans, way too loudly.

"Keep it down," I warn.

"Well hurry up then, I'm nearly there."

I pull my finger and dick out, spin her over onto her back, and hammer into her as fast as I can. Far from getting quieter, her moans become one long cry.

She jams three, then four fingers into her arse. "Huuuuurrrrryyyyyy!"

I suddenly switch from fast, to slow and forceful. I hammer into her with all my might, having to hold her down to stop her from edging away from me with each blow. She stares past my shoulder, straight at our watcher.

"Is he enjoying the show?" I pant.

"Aaagghh. Aaagghh. Yeah. Aaagghh. Aaaaggghhhh... I'm CUMMING!" she yells, and she goes off like a fountain as I smash into her, burying my cock in her cunt, emptying my balls into the furthest reaches of her tight tunnel. Her cum sprays out at least five foot straight up in the air, soaking us both. She thrashes about and I struggle to hold us together, trying to get every spurt of my sperm as deep in her as possible.

I collapse beside her, spent. Emma comes down, giggling uncontrollably.

I look at her, loving her sweet smile and the joyous tinkle of her laughter. "What?" I ask.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I squirted! Oh God, that's gonna stay with me forever!"

She keeps giggling. I notice her engagement ring on the floor next to her heels. Unnoticed, I pick it up and put it in my pocket.

***

We decided to have a lazy afternoon, so we did a little more sunbathing and watched some tv. It was so nice curling up with her on the sofa. She was being her old sweet, cute self; we ate junk and laughed; and it felt really intimate just enjoying spending the day together.

When it was time, Emma let me get ready first, then locked herself away to prepare for her first time with another woman. And I'm going to have front row seats.

My bedroom door opens and the cute girly-girl has been replaced by a leather and latex dominatrix!

Her long blonde locks have been tied back in a tight ponytail; her eyes are made-up black and slutty with long fake lashes; her lipstick is a bright red that matches the latex top that peeks from beneath a knee-length patent black leather coat. The coat is tied, hiding what's underneath – but disappearing up her legs are sharply-pointy-toed boots that are at least thigh-high, in black leather with a red front that's laced all the way up. The stilettos are red and must be 5-inches high. Completing what I can see of her outfit are a pair of black leather wrist-length fingerless gloves; and her manicured nails, also painted in bright red, grasp an empty bottle of WKD – her second of the evening.

"Wow! You look fucking incredible," I exclaim. "All you're missing is a whip!"

"I'll leave that here," she says with a wink. "I wanted her to know I'll be in charge."

"Wow. Just... wow. What are you wearing under the coat?"

"You'll have to wait and see..."

***

And it has to have been the longest bloody taxi journey ever. A local football match, roadworks, and an accident, all conspired to torture me. 

Emma seems anxious – more than I would expect – so I lay my hand on her thigh and give it a little squeeze, to comfort her. Only, I can't help myself...

Moving ever... so... slowly, hoping she won't notice and stop me, I slide my hand under her coat and let it wander upwards.

Oh God, these boots seem to go on forever! Over halfway up her thigh, I find the bow where the laces are tied, and...

Emma takes my hand and moves it to my hardening dick.

"Just a little longer," she teases; then whispers, "I promise tonight will be worth the wait. But if you so much as touch this girl, I'm gonna cut your fucking nuts off."

I smile, even though I know she's serious.

We get near enough that Emma decides we can walk (no sign of rain tonight); so we get out, I pay the driver, and we walk to the club, arm in arm.

I pay the entrance and wait for Emma to check her coat at the cloakroom. It's coming off...

Wow. Again. I was right about the boots, they are only about 5 inches from her crotch. If she were wearing a mini skirt, you might not see any bare thigh at all, but she's wearing very tiny and very tight jean-style black leather hotpants – they ride very low on her hips and are cut so high that, when she leans forward, her butt cheeks peek out the bottom. Fuck, that's hot.

The red latex top is long sleeved and high-necked but hugs her tits brilliantly; and over it she wears a black leather waistcoat that's fixed with just one button that pinches in her waist, just below her boobs.

"I want to fuck you. Now," I whisper urgently.

"Now you know why I wore the coat. We wouldn't have left the flat!"

She's right, of course.

She struts out into the club proper, me following, and it feels like every eye in the place turns to her at once. She's exuding sex, and I'm sure she could have her pick of the place.

She makes a beeline straight for the bar, and orders herself four shots.

I hang back, as we'd agreed. Before the drinks have been poured, a slim brunette with a pixie cut who looks like she could be model places her hand on Emma's bum.

They chat and laugh, Emma not doing anything to discourage the model's hand that begins to wander. 

Emma downs a shot; the model gives her a delicate kiss on the cheek, then leaves.

I'm a little surprised – Emma seemed to like her. But then again, she didn't have the big tits that Emma said she wanted the girl to have. I scan the area for big boobs, and bingo! A little redhead wearing a tight black rubber mini-skirt, knee-high white leather high-heeled boots, and a white vest top that barely contains...

Hold on... she looks familiar...

Emma spots her and waves to her; and I realise it's Leah – the girl who gave us our piercings and Emma her tattoos. I didn't recognize her with red hair, and her tits were definitely not that noticeable before. She looks very fuckable. But what is she doing so far from home? 

Emma must have set this up!

I catch her eye as they hug, and she flashes me a cheeky grin and a wink. This will be a fun evening.

They make their way over to me, hand in hand.

"Look who I found," Emma grins.

"What a coincidence," I joke. "Nice to see you, Leah. I nearly didn't recognise you."

"Hi, yeah, you haven't seen the red hair, have you?" she says. 

"No. And you seem to have, er, grown."

Emma punches my arm, scowling.

"What are you doing looking at another girl?" she half-jokingly scowls.

"You said you wanted a girl with big tits, so I was looking out for someone for you, and..."

Leah giggles and holds her boobs, which overflow her dainty hands, then squeezes her pierced nipples. "I went from a B to an E cup."

"Well, you're looking good," I tell her, and get another punch on the arm. "Emma, honey, if you're going to do that everytime I look at her tonight, I'm gonna need to go get a suit of armour. I'm here to watch, remember?"

"Just go over there and stay out of trouble," she giggles. "We're going to dance."

I don't move far, and they stay at my side of the dancefloor, letting their bodies sway to the music... 

***

The last hour and a half has been a slow, torturous tease. Emma and Leah have danced close – there's been a little rubbing of butt on groin, and the occasional wandering hand – but it's only simmering when I thought it would have boiled over by now. And the girls disappeared to the ladies room some twenty minutes ago.

Fucking hell, it's impossible to get served at this bar unless you've got tits.

A tap on my shoulder; I turn...

Fuck me. Emma's taken her red latex top off and her chest is only barely covered by the black leather waistcoat she's wearing. It gapes open and I swear I can see the edges of her areolas.

She flashes me a filthy grin and hands me her top. "Can you look after this please?" Then something else, much smaller. "And these?"

I unravel the thin and damp scrap of material – it's a sheer white thong. Leah smiles wickedly from behind Emma.

"We were gonna do this in the toilets, but I wanted you to see the first." Emma spins and snogs Leah, their pierced tongues swirling, their lips mashing together. It's one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

They pull apart, both breathing heavily. "We're going to dance for just a bit longer," Emma tells me, and they step back onto the dancefloor, no more than 3 metres from me.

Immediately, they're kissing again. Leah's hands are all over Emma's leather-clad butt, and Emma's squeezing Leah's big fake tits. Their bodies rub together sensuously.

Leah curls a leg around Emma, her black rubber skirt riding up, grinding her crotch against the top of Emma's thigh-high fetish boot.

Emma spins around; keeping Leah's leg around her, she reaches back and pulls Leah's crotch into her gyrating arse. One of Leah's hands reaches around and caresses Emma's breast inside her waistcoat; the other slides down Emma's flat, tattooed stomach and unzips the fly of her leather hotpants.

Emma stares at me through lidded eyes as Leah slides two fingers down, making contact with her pierced clit. I see Emma's lustful moan as she bucks against her, then spins back around into a passionate kiss.

Sliding Leah's skirt up over her bum, revealing it to anyone who's watching (and by now, that's anyone within sight), Emma slides two fingers up into Leah's cunt.

Leah shudders and gasps, and kisses her way down Emma's neck and down to her pierced tits, which she unveils by tugging Emma's waistcoat open. Leah nibbles on a nipple ring as Emma's fingers pulse in and out of her pussy.

Emma pulls Leah's head up and sucks her tongue into her mouth; and Leah orgasms right there on the dancefloor, the fingers buried deep inside her seeming to be the only thing keeping her upright.

Emma holds her fingers up and they both lick at them eagerly, loving the taste, and they make out again, oblivious to the gawping onlookers.

Emma spots me watching, winds her arm around Leah's waist, and struts over to me.

"We'd better go."

***

For the entire cab journey, Emma has had Leah straddling her lap, and has alternated between sucking her tongue, and sucking her enlarged pierced tits.

She really does seem to love those tits.

"Emma, we're back," I say. Reluctantly, she lets go of Leah, and we all clamber out.

I go to pay the driver, who tells me there's no charge (with a massive grin on his face and a small tent in his pants). He watches us go inside, Leah leading the way up the communal stairs.

"Oh God, look at that arse," Emma mutters. Leah wiggles it playfully, and Emma gives it a quick, sharp slap. For the first time, I get an unobstructed look up Leah's skirt, and I glimpse more than one silver ring between her legs. 

They can't even wait for me to get my flat door open before they're making out again, Emma tugging Leah's top off completely, their lips locked together as they bump and stumble inside.

Emma guides them straight into the bedroom, pushes Leah back onto the bed, and goes to town on her augmented E-cups, sucking and slurping – I've never seen her lose herself so completely. 

Getting my first chance to look at them properly, I must admit Leah's boobs do look good – the surgeon knew what he was doing – but they're still obviously fake. I prefer Emma's natural C-cups.

Emma unzips her hotpants and tries to pull them down, but they're too tight to fit over the top of her thigh-high boots. She sticks two fingers into her pussy and moans, "Get some fucking scissors and get these things off me."

I do, and hurriedly slice through the leather, giving her bare arse a little spank. She's soaked, and her juices drip down her thighs.

Now free, Emma clambers up and sits on Leah's face, grabbing her head and forcing it into her crotch. Leah grips Emma's butt, slapping it hard until it turns pink, and this makes Emma buck her hips wildly into Leah's face.

I pull off my jeans and lift my t-shirt, but Emma stops me: 

"No. She doesn't get to see you."

I love her jealousy.

Suddenly, It occurs to me that I'm missing an opportunity, so I tear myself away and search desperately for the camera.

Setting it to Video, I turn back to the girls to find Leah's finger circling Emma's arsehole; and Emma tweaking her pierced nipples, her black leather waistcoat pulled wide open.

I zoom in as Leah's finger penetrates Emma's puckered hole. "Oh yeah, fuck my slutty arsehole, go on," and she groans as Leah adds a second finger and pumps vigourously.

I move round to film Leah's pierced tongue buried in Emma's sweet pussy. 

"Nibble her clit," I whisper.

Leah licks Emma's little nub, metal clinking against metal, then nips it between her teeth.

Emma yells out and orgasms, moaning loudly as her cum soaks Leah. She searches for something to hold onto and grips the heels of her fetish boots, her convulsions trying to pull her away from Leah, who still has her clit hood piercing clamped between her teeth.

I look at Emma's face and, instead of calming down like she usually does after she cums, her eyes are still wild with lust.

"I forgot you're a squirter," Leah giggles.

"Have you ever been fisted?" Emma asks.

"No. A couple of people have tried, but I'm too tight."

"We'll see about that." Emma leaps up, tugs Leah's black rubber mini-skirt up around her waist, and pauses for a second to admire the sight in front of her.

Leah's inner labia each have a ring through them, and a little star charm hangs from a ring through her clit hood. There's a small triangle of neatly-trimmed blonde hair just above her pussy; and her lips are moist, though not as wet as Emma gets.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 07



"What do you think of getting your pussy lips pierced like that?" I ask Emma.

"Would you like that?"

"Yeah."

"After I've had our baby, I will."

With the tip of her pierced tongue, Emma tests the taste of Leah's cunt; seeming to like it, she probes between Leah's lips, experimenting; then gives her one big lick, from base to clit.

Leah groans, and spreads her boot-clad legs wider.

Emma removes her fingerless gloves; uses Leah's labia rings to open her pink lips wide; then dives face-first into her, covering herself in Leah's juices.

"You taste so fucking good," Emma mutters.

She slides two fingers into Leah, obviously meeting some resistance. "Oh my God, you are tight."

"You won't fist me," Leah groans.

"Even if you scream the place down, I will." Emma pushes a third finger into her.

"Oh fuck."

Leah seems genuinely apprehensive.

"One more tiny finger," I tell her, and she stares into the camera.

"You like this? You like seeing your girlfriend trying to fist another woman?" She lifts her pierced tits, displaying them to me, and yelps as Emma forces her fourth finger inside. 

"Fuck yes."

"Except she isn't your girlfriend, is she? She's someone else's fiance."

Emma jumps up on top of Leah, in a sixty-nine position. "Lick my boots, bitch."

Leah takes a 5-inch red stiletto into her mouth, her tongue piercing clattering against it, as Emma tucks her thumb in and shoves hard. Leah's pussy stretches but doesn't let Emma's hand in.

Emma jabs her fist, and Leah cries out, "Please, no."

"Help me," Emma asks, and I set the camera on its tripod.

"Grab my wrist," Emma orders; and I do. 

We both push together; I don't push too hard, I'm worried about hurting Leah who really seems scared.

"Come on," Emma urges. "She wants it, don't you bitch?"

Leah's voice is barely a whisper. "Yes."

Ok then. I drive Emma's hand forward with all the force I can muster and feel it pop inside Leah, who screams and cums explosively, thrashing around uncontrollably as Emma pounds her straining cunt and bites her pierced clit.

As Leah recovers, Emma spins back around without removing her fist, so she's no longer in a 69 and is instead kneeling on the floor, her bum sticking up in the air. I can't help myself, and slide two fingers into her sopping slit. She swats me away.

"Look," she purrs to Leah. "Look at my fist in your pretty pussy."

Drained, Leah raises her head and watches Emma pull her hand part of the way out, then push back inside. Leah groans, but seems to be getting used to being so stretched.

"You're my bitch now," Emma tells her. "Who's bitch are you?"

Emma punches into Leah three quick times, and Leah shudders with a little aftershock.

"Yours, oh God, I'm yours."

Slowly, Emma withdraws from Leah's loosened hole, and Leah collapses back on the bed. She looks finished.

But Emma's not done.

Licking her hand clean, she stands and lifts a booted foot onto Leah's groin, playing with the little silver piercings with her pointed toe.

Then she shifts, and pokes at the gaping hole with her thin red heel. It slides inside easily, and Emma thrusts it in and out, making Leah groan.

"There's one more thing I want to try tonight," Emma says. She removes the stiletto from Leah and struts to her wardrobe.

She returns with a black double-ended dildo.

Wow. It must be 13 inches long and pretty wide. This is going to be amazing. 

I grab the camera again.

"Get on your hands and knees and face the wall," Emma orders, and Leah does as she's told. She rests her head on the pillows, her tight butt facing me, her pussy rings dangling and glinting in the light. I rearrange my painfully hard dick in my underwear, resisting the urge to stroke it.

Emma moves behind Leah and lines up the dildo, rubbing it up and down her slit, then eases it into her. They both groan as it goes four, five, six inches deep in one movement.

"Stay right there," Emma says. She spins around and backs her perfect arse up to Leah's.

She grabs her end of the dildo and pushes back onto it. Her grey-blue eyes lock onto mine through the camera lens as she wiggles backwards, sinking it deeper; she arches her lower back with its sexy dimples and tramp stamp tattoo; and she moans, open-mouthed, showing off her hot tongue piercing, as she bottoms out. 

She wiggles again on it, forcing her butt cheeks to mash against Leah's.

"This is so fucking hot," Emma breathes as she slowly rocks on the double-ended shaft.

Gradually, they speed up; Leah syncronising her slight movements to Emma's increasingly enthusiastic thrusts. Their butt cheeks slap together; their pierced tits jiggle.

Lost in the moment, Emma licks two of her fingers, reaches behind herself, and twists her delicate digits into her tight arsehole.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she mutters, over and over again as she violates her tightest hole with a third finger.

Suddenly, and almost frenzied, Emma pulls away, leaving the dildo hanging from Leah's pussy. "Get on your back."

Leah flips over. Emma grabs her by the heels of her boots and drags her to the bottom of the bed, then stuffs the dildo back into her cunt, fucking Leah standing up.

She hammers away; then takes hold of Leah's big boobs, kneading them and squashing them together obscenely.

Without slowing, she looks to me. "I need you in my arse."

Who am I to deny her?

I set the camera back on its tripod, rip off my underwear, and stand behind Emma.

"Stop moving a sec so I can get in," I tell her.

She leans forward, arching her back invitingly, and French kisses Leah while I invade her arsehole. It's still so tight, and I have to shove hard. If it hurts, Emma seems to enjoy it, and she pushes her butt back at me until I'm buried to the hilt.

She looks back over her shoulder and purrs the most erotic thing I've ever heard:

"Fuck me."

I don't stand on ceremony – it's obvious how horny she is, so there's no slow build up. I slam into her, and continue slamming into her as I feel Leah thrusting up from below.

"Oh my God, I've died and gone to Heaven," Emma cries, and she sucks noisily on Leah's nipple rings.

That triggers Leah's second orgasm which, in turn, fires Emma's. I do my best to hold myself deep inside her as they both wriggle and thrash below me.

"Don't you dare cum!" Emma yells, and somehow, I manage not to.

I wait patiently for them to come down and regain their senses. Emma kisses Leah, and they make out. A hot, long, sensous kiss; their pierced tongues entwined in a loving dance.

Unable to wait any longer, I slowly saw in and out of Emma's arsehole.

"Ooh, yeah, that's it," she breathes.

I make love to her with my full length – nearly pulling out, but then easing back into her again. She moans and wiggles her little arse; I caress her tramp stamp tattoo, down to the arrow inspired by my name.

"I want you to cum on Leah's tits."

I hope she didn't expect me to maintain my leisurely pace after saying that, because I'm not going to, and I'm not going to take long.

I pound into her, impaling her on the double-ended dildo each and every time.

My orgasm's bubbling; it feels so good, I want to hold off just a little bit longer...

"Cum on her tits so I can lick it off," Emma pants.

That does it.

I pull out and squeeze my dick hard; hurry round the side of the bed, aim, and let go. My semen erupts and gushes out of me, the first spurt flying clear across the bed, the remainder splashing all over Leah's glorious boobies.

Emma giggles as I collapse onto the bed next to them, completely spent. Leah lies back with a sly grin.

Emma lazily rotates her hips on the dildo that still joins her with Leah, then laps at the sperm covering Leah's breasts; her pierced tongue looking incredibly fucking hot. She's not swallowing, but hoovering it up.

Satisfied she's got it all, Emma's lips curl in a little smiles as she shows us the pool in her mouth; and Leah seems as surprised as I am when Emma moves in to kiss her.

It's the sexiest kiss ever. Their pierced tongues twirling, their lips mashing together, and my cum swapping back and forth between them.

Life surely can't get much better?

Eventually, Emma ends the kiss. "I don't want to move," she smiles. "It felt so good having both of you in me."

I lean over and kiss her, not caring about the slight taste of my cum, letting her know how much I love her.

"Have you never done a DP before?" asks Leah, sounding surprised.

"No." She smiles at me. "But I've got a feeling I will be tomorrow!" 



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 08



HALF TERM, DAY 4, TUESDAY

I awake in the same position as I fell asleep – spooning Emma, who is spooning Leah. It's reassuring to know that last night wasn't an incredible dream.

I blow gently in Emma's ear. She stirs slightly, but settles back down.

"Emma," I whisper. "Love of my life."

Her eyes flutter open; a smile quickly follows when she realises where she is and who she's with, the events of last night obviously a happy memory for her too.

"Emma, honey, you need to get up and get ready."

"What for?" she asks, sleepily.

"You've got a job interview in two hours."

Her sleep-addled brain struggles to process the new information.

"Interview? What?" She untangles herself from Leah, who stirs as well, and faces me.

"Well, as we're not certain what will happen with your job at school, I thought it would be a good idea to have a backup plan. So I got you an interview at Bada Bing."

Emma's awake now. "The strip club! Oh my God!"

Her loud exclamation wakes Leah. "What's going on?"

"He wants me to work at the strip club!" Emma tells her.

Leah starts giggling.

Emma playfully slaps her on the arm. "What's so funny?"

"Your face! You almost look offended, and after what we did last night..." She dissolves into another fit of giggles.

"Actually, it's not just stripping. It's more of a lapdancing club than anything..." I grin.

"Oh God," Emma laughs, and turns back to me. "Are you serious about this?"

"Absolutely. And you'd better get a move on – you've got one hour, fifty three minutes, and counting."

Emma shakes her head, but grins and slides her body over mine to get out of bed. I take the opportunity for a quick grope of her glorious butt.

"I need a shower. Anyone want to join me?"

Leah starts to move, but I stop her. 

"You haven't got time. Just go, and start thinking about what you're going to wear. May I suggest something easy to take off?"

Emma and Leah both giggle, and Emma skips out of the bedroom.

***

Emma thought it would be best if she went in alone. We weren't sure if they had a "no boyfriends in the club" policy, so if I don't go in now, I can pretend to be a regular patron when she starts work – hopefully this evening.

It did, however, leave me in the car with only my thoughts for company. We'd dropped Leah off at the train station so she could go home (they caused quite a scene when they kissed goodbye!); they arranged to meet up when Emma got back to discuss more ideas for tattoos and piercings.

Emma said she'll get her nose and the top of her ear pierced, as I'd suggested, but thought it best to wait until after this week of slutdom and debauchery. Leah then had the idea of extending Emma's butterfly tattoo into a butterfly-and-flower design that would run most of the way down Emma's side and stomach, from just below her breast to her hip. I'm not sold yet, but they're going to work on it and show me what they come up with. Emma's promised she won't get it done without my ok.

Leah also helped us pick the outfit Emma wore.

It was a black leather-look shirt-dress – a shirt long enough to be a dress – except it wasn't really. I think she must have got it a size too small (or a size smaller than it was intended) because it only just covered her arse and was very tight. I think it was probably designed to be worn over leggings or jeans, but none of us wanted that.

It had poppers rather than buttons, and the top four had to be undone because you could not fasten them over her boobs – which meant fantastic cleavage. The bottom popper couldn't be done up and, if she wanted to walk, neither could the one above that. This exposed her pussy, so she wore a black leather thong that peeked out when she walked in a pair of black matt leather crotch-high ponty-toe boots with a 5-inch stiletto heel. The boots reached up to the hem of the shirt-dress; only when she moved did she expose a tantalising glimpse of thigh and thong.

Leah did her make-up in a subtle but still sexy way, with deep-pink lip gloss, and dark eye-liner highlighting her captivating grey-blues. Her slightly-curled hair flowed around her shoulders in a golden wave.

She looked fucking incredible.

Just thinking about it has given me a semi, and...

I spot Emma hurrying back to the car, a third popper undone at the bottom of her dress as it flaps around her thighs, her thong completely on view. I didn't know what to expect, but it's only been 15 minutes. Is that good?

Her head's down, and she seems a little embarrassed as she slides into the passenger seat.

"How did it go?" I ask.

"I start tonight."

YES!

"Excellent, congratulations!" I tell her, giving her a quick hug. "I knew you had what it takes."

"Actually, I don't."

"What?"

"Kevin – he's the boss – he said they only take girls with double-Ds or bigger. Company policy, apparently."

"So, what happened?"

"I had to blow him."

"What!?!"

"Well, you said you wanted me to get the job, so..." I can see the worry that she might have upset me in her eyes.

"Ok, ok. I'm not mad, honestly I'm not. I'm just disappointed I wasn't there to see it! Tell me what happened. Everything."

"Ok, but can I tell you while we're moving? I need to get back and start getting ready."

I start the car and begin the shortish journey to my apartment.

"Sooo..." I prompt.

"Sooo... I went inside and told the lady at the front desk that I had an appointment and... I should have known then... she told me not to take it to heart if I didn't get the job, that she still thought I was sexy. She must've known about the rule – she had huge tits!

"Anyway, she got one of the bouncers to walk me through, to wait in Kevin's office a minute. And when he walked in the room, he took one look at me and said 'No'."

"No? That's it?" I asked.

"That's exactly what I said! That's when he explained about the double-D policy... and he said I should be a runway or... no, that's it, he said I should go work for Victoria's Secret."

"You should absolutely do that!" I exclaim.

"I don't think I'm that good looking..."

"Oh, you really are," I tell her, in all sincerity.

"Well, thank you, but anyway, Kevin was trying to get rid of me so I opened my top a bit and showed him my boobs, and asked if any of his girls had their's pierced. Apparently, one of them does, and she's like an F-cup or something, so...

"I told him that wasn't all I had pierced. I think he thought I was bull-shitting, but I persuaded him to let me show him.

"I danced and slowly took my dress off, then I turned and showed him my arse in just my thong. I could see he was getting a hard on, so I, er, sat in his lap and gave him a lapdance."

"Oh wow," I mutter.

"It was pretty hot," she admits. "That's when I kind of lost it. I stood and hooked a leg over his shoulder and rubbed myself on his face. He started licking me through my thong – it felt so good!

"I pulled my thong to the side and I thought he'd keep going, but he just kind of stared at my pussy. Maybe he was surprised I was actually pierced. Then I heard him unzip his pants so... I wanted you to be there if I'm going to fuck some other guy, so I thought I'd blow him. He seemed to like it."

"I bet he did!" I laugh.

"He was kind of rough, though. He grabbed my head and, like, fucked my mouth and came down my throat. I didn't even taste it!"

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

She smiles coyly. "Being used just for his pleasure... it was pretty slutty."

"Letting a guy fuck your throat to get a job as a lapdancer? Yeah, I'd say that was the sluttiest thing you've done so far!"

She wriggles in her seat – a sure sign she's horny.

"You like that, don't you?" I ask.

"I like that you said 'so far'," she purrs. "I hope you know I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"Not even if The Boyfriend asked you to?"

She giggles. "Oh my God, can you imagine if he could see me now?!"

"Maybe I should invite him along tonight..."

We both laugh.

"You really want me to get on a stage and get naked in front of a room full of blokes?" she asks.

"Yep."

"And then rub myself up against them for money?"

"God yes."

"You and The Boyfriend are so different. It's funny." She giggles again.

"So, do you know how it'll be working? You will be dancing on stage?"

"Yeah, for three songs at the start, then I've got to 'work the floor' for private dances. But sex isn't allowed, they'd get in trouble for prostitution. Which is ironic considering how I got the job!"

"Shame," I wink. "Are they going to supply an outfit or..."

"No, I've got something in mind that I spoke to Kevin about."

"What?" I ask, perhaps too eagerly.

"You'll have to wait and see!"

Crap.

***

Emma locked herself away in my bedroom all afternoon to practice and perfect her routine. I gave her some privacy and went shopping – I had something really important I needed to buy.

For dinner, I cooked her favourite meal – cheeseburger and chips – and we ate in near silence. She was obviously really nervous.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to,"I told her.

She smiled at me. "Oh, I want to," she said. "It's just a bit scary."

We travelled to the club with plenty of time to spare – Emma chose to get ready there, so she was only wearing a flimsy summer dress and ballet flats, and carried her outfit for the evening in a small suitcase.

She guzzled from a bottle of WKD as I drove.

"You won't look at the other girls, will you?" she asked.

"I'm only interested in you, you know that."

"But there are some hot girls there..."

"None as hot as you," I told her with certainty.

"I don't know... I met a couple earlier and I'd do them."

"God, do you know how hot it is to hear you talk like that?" She smiled coyly. "Like I keep telling you: you're beautiful, cute and sexy. You're perfect. No-one could ever steal you from me."

That seemed to settle her down a bit and, when we arrived, she kissed me and told me how much she loved me, before disappearing through the staff door round back.

I made my way into the club proper to wait for Emma's turn on stage...

***

I thought I'd prepared myself for the two hour delay until Emma's debut, but this has still been the longest hour and fifty-five minutes of my life.

In deference to Emma, I sit with my back to the stage. I've been getting the odd funny look from the middle-aged businessman on the table next to me, but he's looked bored the whole time anyway. He seems like the kind of guy who visits these kind of clubs for something to do in the evenings when travelling away from home. The archetype rich loner moping over a gin and tonic.

Then, over the tannoy: "Please welcome, for her first appearance at Bada Bing, Miss Emma!"

I spin around to face the stage and...

Oh my God. That's perfect.

Emma's dressed as a teacher.

She's wearing a tight white blouse, unbuttoned far enough to hint at ridiculous cleavage (it's never looked that good before); a black leather knee-length skirt with a slit up the back almost to her arse that flashes fishnet holdup stockings; and her black patent leather pointy-toe Louboutin pumps, with their trademark red sole and 4 ¾" stiletto heels.

Her blonde hair is tied up in a bun; her pouting lips a bright, glossy red. She peers over the top of black-rimmed glasses, which can't hide her long fake lashes or how heavy and slutty her eye-makeup is done, and slaps an old-school wooden ruler into her palm.

I can tell she's a little nervous, but considering this is the first time she's done this kind of thing, she's hiding it remarkably well. I'm so proud of her.

She struts down the narrow catwalk that reaches into the audience and spots me staring. I mouth "Wow!" at her, and she allows herself the slightest of smiles.

Reaching the edge of the stage, she turns so she's facing away from everyone; then bends at the waist, keeping her legs straight, and places the ruler on the floor. The front row must have a fantastic view up the slit in her skirt.

Swaying her hips back to the main stage, she undoes her bun and shakes her hair loose, and it shimmers around her shoulders in a lustrous golden wave. 

Her hands run over her body and pause over her breasts; then she unbuttons her blouse to unveil the reason why her cleavage is so captivating – she's wearing a black latex corset that's pushing her c-cups up to a shelf of delectable flesh.

The blouse comes off completely and she throws it to the side of the stage.

Losing herself to the music, she lets her hands slide down over her narrowed waist to her hips; then to the hem of her skirt, pulling it up, showing the latex-top to her stockings and a couple of inches of thigh, but agonisingly not quite high enough to see her crotch.

She smiles naughtily at the growing anticipation of her audience.

She looks like she was born to do this.

She spins around to face away from us and spreads her legs wide, letting the skirt ride up and hint at her bare arse cheeks.

She moves her feet back together and gropes her own arse through the hot leather skirt. Slowly, oh so slowly, she unzips the skirt – the lower part of her tramp stamp, and the "t" of a black latex thong, coming into view.

She wiggles her hips as she tugs the tight skirt down over them, revealing her arse to everyone – her legs perfectly straight and together as she pulls the skirt all the way down to her sexy Louboutin heels.

She delicately steps out of the leather pooled on the floor and kicks it away, then dances back down the catwalk, falling to her knees just a couple of feet from the gathered men eagerly waving money at her.

She slides across to them, holding her stocking-top open so they can slide the notes inside. Each man takes the opportunity to stroke her leg and, as Emma doesn't do anything to stop any of them, the next one goes a little further – until a particularly loud yuppie-type rubs his fingers over the smooth latex covering her cunt. The look on his face as he feels her clit piercing is priceless. She enjoys it for two seconds, then spins away, back to her feet, continuing her dance.

Her eyes search out mine, and I recognise the look in them - she's given herself over to her horniness. There's no telling how far she'll go now.

I'm both turned on and a little worried.

Emma, back on the main stage, undoes the top clasp on her corset, then the second. Her boobs nearly spill out and, when she leans forward seductively, they do. I swear I hear a gasp over the pounding music as her pierced tits escape their latex prison; her silver rings glinting in the spotlights.

Quickly, she unclasps the remainder of her corset and throws it away, letting her breasts bounce free.

In case everyone hadn't grasped by now that this seemingly cute girl was actually very naughty, Emma dips two fingers inside her thong, then licks her glistening digits clean of her obvious arousal.

Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawls, slowly and alluringly, to the front row.

What must be hundreds of pounds is being waved in the air to entice her.

She makes her way around; note after note stuffed into her latex stocking-tops. All the guys cop a feel – most stroking a leg, a couple being brave enough to cup a pierced tit. She doesn't do anything to stop any of them, but she never stops moving; not letting any of them go too far.

She does pause by one guy though, and it's the bored businessman who was sat on the table next to mine. Emma obviously got his attention, and now he's got hers – they're having a little conversation. It ends with them seemingly agreeing on something, and the guy slipping more than one folded note into her stocking-tops.

Completing her circuit, Emma stands; with so much cash fanning out, this will definitely pay better than her teaching job!

Facing her audience, she pulls at the sides of her latex thong... teasing... every eye in the place is on her, and on her barely hidden treasure.

She pulls the thin strip of shiny material aside and displays her pierced pussy to the room. And the room moans.

She runs a finger between her lips and, even in the dim light and from a little distance away, I can see she's dripping wet.

I knew she'd enjoy it.

She turns, her arse pointing at her crowd, and peels the thong over her butt and down her long legs.

Slipping the thong off her feet, she holds the pose – bent at the waist, her legs straight and together – then slides her feet apart until there's a metre between them, and her cunt and arsehole could not be more visible.

She picks up the old wooden ruler and runs it up her leg, teasing herself as much as everyone else.

SMACK! She gives herself a sharp, sudden whack on the arse with the ruler. Then two more in quick succession; her eyes closed, she's biting her own lip as though to stop from screaming... or moaning.

The ruler spanks down on her pussy, and she can't hide her moan this time; and again, surprisingly hard. She's always said she doesn't particularly like pain, but I don't think she's acting now.

Her eyes wild, she spins to the no-longer-bored businessman and stuffs her thong in his top pocket, flashing him her filthiest grin – their conversation must have been bartering! 

Now wearing just her stockings, heels and glasses, she sits herself down at the front of the catwalk, no more than 4 feet from the edge, and she spreads her legs so wide that the customers on either side get a Louboutin-clad foot each.

As the men fondle her heels and caress her calves, she licks the ruler with her pierced tongue, making it wet... she isn't, is she?

She is. 

She lowers the ruler to her pussy and pushes it in – no teasing, no easing it gently in – she just shoves 10 of the 12 inches straight up inside her.

She holds it there for a moment; then pulls it slowly back out, her juices colouring the wood, highlighting how deep it was inside her.

Her red-painted nails take a good grip of it and she begins fucking herself with long, steady strokes.

More and more people have moved closer to get a good look, so I have to stand and move closer myself. I'd feel a little self-conscious about the major wood I'm sporting, except there isn't a trouser in the place that isn't tenting.

Even the other girls working the floor have stopped to watch.

I get sight of Emma and she's slamming the ruler into her dripping cunt. She's locked eyes with one of the younger audience members, who's got hold of her foot and is rubbing her black Louboutin firmly on his hard-on. Over the other side of the catwalk, her other high heel is being sucked by the now-eager businessman.

I don't think there's supposed to be so much audience participation.

Emma lies back; her free hand finds her pierced clit and rubs in rhythm with the thrusts of the ruler. She closes her eyes, her breaths shortening into quick pants. I recognise the signs, she's about to...

Her orgasm hits her like an earthquake and her cum sprays into the air, sprinkling a few of the lucky ones near enough to her pulsating pussy. Her jerking limbs fly free of her adoring audience; the ruler clatters on the stage and is immediately grabbed by one of the punters. Her blushed and bejewelled breasts quiver with each ripple through her body, the fingers on her clit slowing to a gentle caress as she relaxes with a satisfied grin.

As she lies on stage, recovering, she is showered with cash.

I never believed my sweet friend would, or could, have changed so much. With every day, and with every slutty act, my admiration and love for her grows more and more.

I love her so much it scares me.

***

Fifteen minutes later and Emma coyly totters out into the bar and, if anything, she looks even hotter.

She's wearing a black wetlook lingerie set, with silver zips done up vertically over her nipples and pussy; the halterneck top looks a size too small because her tits are nearly popping out, and the tiny low French-cut style bottoms hug her pert arse like a second skin.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 08



A leather garter sits high on her thigh, above her black patent leather knee-high boots that she wore on Sunday when we went shopping and I filmed her in a fountain. The silver buckles, 5-inch metal spike heel, and pointy toe make her look like a fetish slut.

Her hair is tousled as though she's been freshly fucked – which, I suppose, she kind of has been. The glasses have gone, and her lipstick is a darker red, almost burgundy.

She spots me and smiles – not a naughty grin, but a wide smile full of love. I seriously consider abandoning tonight's plan – I want to take her home and fuck her right now.

Before she's taken three steps toward me, however, the young yuppie intercepts her and, I presume, asks for a dance.

Oh well. It'll pay off in the long run.

Emma nods and walks him back to his table, where his mates are loudly leering and drooling.

She moves the yuppie's chair out so that it's facing me, and pushes him down. She slides gracefully onto his lap so she's sat side-saddle – one arm around his shoulders, her long booted legs dangling over the arm of the chair, her arse clearly pressed into his groin.

She whispers into his ear; he nods, reaches up to her left breast, and slowly pulls the zip down, revealing her stiff, pierced nipple.

Emma shakes her head, seemingly disappointed. She stands, then straddles the yuppie, sitting on his lap, holding her chest right in front of his face. God, her arse looks so amazing in those wetlook knickers. 

With a shit-eating grin, he takes the second zip in his teeth and tugs it down. He takes the opportunity to lick and suck the nipple ring into his mouth – Emma does nothing to stop him, and instead grinds her crotch into his.

He grabs her bum and squeezes it, kneading her beautiful buttocks. She presses into him harder – she's losing herself to the moment again.

Emma reaches behind her back and undoes the bra, tossing it to one of his mates. The yuppie makes the most of his unfetered access, and slobbers all over her gorgeous globes as she rubs them in his face.

He slaps her arse and, as though deciding that's far enough, Emma slides down his body. Kneeling in front of him, she presses her tits together around his trouser tent and jerks it a few times; then gives it a loving lick, from base to tip, with her hot pierced tongue.

She pulls away, panting. She turns and locks eyes with me; and with a little grin, she lowers her arse, agonisingly slowly, onto his barely-contained pole.

His hands snake around her and paw at her breasts. Emma grasps one of the mitts and takes it down her stomach, down to her mound. She puts the zip between his fingers and he follows her instruction, pulling it open.

I can just see her mound glisten, and the diamond in her clit sparkle, before his fingers press into her lips. She shudders, and moves his hand back up to her tits.

She writhes in his lap; he closes his eyes, I think to try to stop from cumming. 

Somehow she seems to know, and focuses her movement – it's as though her arse is wanking him off. Not being able to help himself, the yuppie humps back into her and twists her hard nipples.

Emma takes one of his hands again and places it on her pussy. Making the most of the opportunity, he shoves two fingers inside her and, with one big thrust, he cums in his pants.

Emma slows her movements gradually, removing his fingers from her cunt and letting him enjoy the afterglow. She looks over to me with the filthiest grin I've ever seen and sucks his fingers clean.

She gets up; one of the other guys at the table holds her top out for her, and she takes it with a smile. Putting it back on, the yuppie slides a folded note into her garter and gives her butt a little pat.

She's redressed in her tarty lingerie, but she hasn't bothered doing up the zips – the piercings in her nipples and clit are clear for all to see.

Satisfied she's done, Emma makes a beeline for me. God, I can't wait for...

The businessman on the table next to me jumps in front of her. "How about a private dance?" he asks.

"I think this guy was next," she says, pointing at me.

The businessman shrugs, and takes a huge wad of cash from his pocket. He unfurls what must be £250 in fifties, and slips it into Emma's garter.

"I'd really like to be next," he urges. "And I'm sure this guy will still be waiting for you when we're done."

She looks over to me enquiringly, and I shrug and nod my ok, smiling encouragingly.

Grinning, she takes him by the hand and leads him over to the private rooms.

Now , this is a special kind of torture. I know she's doing something delightfully naughty with that guy, but I really want to be sharing it with her. Not being able to see what's happening is excruciating... but I can't deny my dick is stiff from how my imagination is filling in the blanks.

Time is ticking so slowly. How long are they going to be? I mean, ...

My thoughts are interrupted by two of the big bouncers hurrying to the private area. My heart thumps. Has something happened to Emma?

I hear a bit of a commotion, and the businessman is led out, followed by Emma. She looks ok... she glances over to me and flashes me a naughty grin. I sigh in relief.

One bouncer marches the businessman to the exit; the other leads Emma to the dressing rooms.

I can make a guess at what happened, but whatever, it looks like Emma isn't working any longer tonight.

***

I walk around to the car park at the rear of the building, and am not surprised to find the businessman waiting near the back door.

"What happened in there?" I ask him.

"We got chucked out for her giving me a blowjob. I tried to explain I wasn't paying her for it but..."

"Wow." She's really getting into this. "They thought she was prostituting?"

"Yeah, but I didn't even ask her to do it – she just got straight down on her knees and started deepthroating me!"

"What a hot slut."

"I know! Listen, I'm sorry you didn't get a go, but she told me to wait for her so if that's why you're here I'm afraid you're shit out of luck."

"Yeah? About that..."

I'm interrupted by Emma bursting out of the club, towing her small suitcase behind her, dressed in just her fetish boots and the flimsy summer dress she came in. The contrast is striking, and hot.

She looks a little embarrassed, and very horny. "Oh, I see you two have met," she smiles. "Let's go."

"What?" says the businessman, understandably confused.

"I'll explain on the way. Which is your car?"

***

They follow me back to my flat. I keep checking in the rear-view mirror but can't see Emma most of the time. My guess would be she has her head in his lap... and the thought of that keeps my dick hard the whole way.

Outside my place, he parks his big Jag next to me. I peer across and Emma's head is bobbing in his lap. He has to literally push her off.

He gets out of the car. "Man, if I had a girl like that, I wouldn't be sharing her. I'm Doug, by the way."

"Well Doug, I guess you're lucky it's me whose got the girl like that."

I grab Emma's bag from his car and lead them inside.

Emma drags Doug straight into the bedroom. "Stop!" I order.

Emma looks at me with a pout. My heart melts, but I've thought this through.

"Emma, take off the dress and lie on the bed."

As she's doing that, I reach under the mattress and grab some handcuffs. Emma looks surprised but unbowed. "You don't need those, honey. I'm not going anywhere."

I kiss her gently on the forehead. "Trust me."

Obediently, she holds her hands by the headboard and lets me cuff her to it.

"Doug, she's all yours."

He grins and disrobes at top speed, while I grab my video camera.

He's not going to mess around, and climbs straight on top of Emma – but she closes her legs, not letting him in.

"You need a condom," she orders.

"Seriously?" Doug exclaims, looking at me.

I move close to Emma, whispering in her ear:

"Sluts don't use condoms."

If she weren't already lying down, I could have knocked her over with a feather. "But..."

"I know," I assure her.

"No. You can't want this."

"You want to be a slut? There's little sluttier than having a stranger's baby."

"Oh my God."

Doug is wanking himself; his cock appears slightly thinner and slightly longer than mine.

"Honey, you'll love it. I promise."

She shakes her head. I knew she'd be hesitant, but...

"Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to risk getting pregnant by this guy," she whispers, barely audible.

I kiss her tenderly on the lips, and stare into her beautiful big grey-blues. "I want you to risk getting pregnant by this guy."

Her eyes well up and she looks away from me, blinking her long fake lashes.

"But Emma, if you don't want to, we won't." Much as I believe she'll enjoy it, the last thing I want to do is upset her.

She looks back into my eyes and slowly opens her legs, wide.

Doug grins at me, chuffed that whatever I whispered to her worked, and rubs his pole up and down her pussy, bumping her pierced clit each time.

Emma whimpers as her drenched lips separate for him, and he pushes into her.

He holds it halfway inside her; withdraws; then eases all the way in, to the hilt. Emma can't help moaning.

Seeing a cock other than mine buried in my sweet Emma is incredible. I'm so turned on that my hands are shaking, so I put the camera on its tripod. I don't want to forget this moment – not that I'm likely to!

He speeds up his thrusts; Emma bucks up against him. She still seems torn – her body telling her this is insanely hot, and her brain telling her it's just insane.

"I'm not gonna last long," Doug groans.

"That's ok, we've got all night," Emma pants. 

"Oh God. Where do you want my cum?" he gasps as he humps into her.

"Inside her," I interject, before Emma can suggest anything else. 

They both look at me. Doug grins and pounds harder still; Emma just stares at me, her eyes watering up again.

Our eyes are still locked together when Doug grunts and shoves himself as far into her as he can and holds himself there.

A look of surprise crosses Emma's face as Doug empties his balls into her, then her jaw goes slack... and she orgasms, squirting and quivering and moaning, all the time staring into me. Her hips hump up to him involuntarily, wanting more, and her legs tremble as she's overtaken and her doubts dissipate.

My concern fades – knowing she came proves that I was right. 

Her chest flushes, and her breathing gradually slows.

She looks shocked; trying to process how she enjoyed something she didn't want, and that we both knew was a huge risk... IS a huge risk.

"Oh God," she whispers, and I decide it's about time I took off her cuffs. "I can't believe I came."

I just smile at her and rub her wrists for her, soothing away the slight red marks.

We kiss, softly. "You knew I would, didn't you?" she asks.

Doug clambers off her. "I'm sorry I couldn't go longer." 

"You are nowhere near finished yet," Emma tells him and, now free, she quickly moves around and takes his softening dick into her mouth, slurping noisily.

She repositions herself so she's on all fours on the bed, and waves her butt in the air.

"Honey, can you get my arsehole ready so Doug can fuck the shit out of it please?"

Doug shakes his head in disbelief. I can't help laughing.

I hurriedly find the lube and work some into her tight sphincter with first one, then two, fingers. She hums around Doug's dick, which is coming back to life.

Not wanting to miss my opportunity, I shift in behind Emma and line up my dick. I can see Doug's cum dripping from her cunt as I feed my stiff pole into her naughtiest hole.

She stops sucking dick for a moment to moan her approval, then gets right back to it.

The view is fantastic, so I lean over to grab the camera, and I film Emma's first spitroast. I'm gonna make sure this isn't the last first of tonight.

Emma begins rocking between us – taking Doug down her throat, then me balls-deep up her arse. We get into a rhythm until she's slamming herself from end to end, gagging on dick with each forward thrust.

I lovingly run my finger over her tramp stamp, then slap her juicy butt.

Emma decides that's enough, and withdraws from both dicks. "Sweetie, lie down here."

I replace the camera on its tripod and do as she asks, lying length-ways on the bed with my legs over the edge. She faces and straddles me, and sinks her dripping pussy straight onto my cock, all the way until she gives a little wiggle to make herself comfortable. Then, those magic words:

"Doug – fuck my arse."

This is it. Her first DP. Our first DP.

She truly has given herself to being my slut.

Doug obviously doesn't realise how momentous this occasion is, because, without ceremony, he shoves his dick into Emma's gaping anus. 

All three of us moan in unison at the incredible sensation. Emma's eyes go wide.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, it feels so fucking gooood!" she cries, as Doug sets a steady pace.

She looks me in the eyes and whispers, "I feel so full. I can't believe I'm doing this. Thank you."

And we kiss, probably the most loving and tender kiss we've ever shared... and it's at the moment when she's being her most slutty. It's the moment I know I'll remember forever. 

Doug slams into her from behind, and her sweetest smile switches to her naughtiest grin. She lifts herself slightly; I'm still inside her, but I've got a little room.

"Fuck me too," she urges.

"Anything for you," I reply, and I thrust up into her tighter-than-ever snatch.

I look up at her heavily-lidded eyes and I know the lust has got her.

She bounces between us, her moan becoming one long continuous erotic sound.

"I can't hold out much longer," I warn.

"Stop then," Emma orders, and she pushes Doug off her. He seems a little miffed.

"Want me to clean your lovely cock before you stick it back in my little kitty?" she purrs to Doug.

He seems almost as surprised as I am. I never dreamed she'd be so filthy as to do arse to mouth!

She sinks to her knees before him and licks his balls with her hot pierced tongue, then takes his dirty dick between her soft lips and into her pretty mouth, swallowing his whole pole in one gulp.

She's like the best pornstar you've ever seen – and it occurs to me that we could make a lot of money with the video of this. If she's too slutty to be a lapdancer, maybe she'd get into porn?

With one last lick from balls to tip, Emma seems satisfied, and she totters back to me.

Looking straight into Doug's lust-filled eyes, she steps backward and squats over me and, holding the base of my cock, she points it into her swollen rectum. I moan and reach round to grab her pierced tits, pulling her down all the way onto me.

"You want my pretty pussy?" she pouts, and Doug nods eagerly. "You want my pretty, unprotected, pussy?"

Doug growls and, in a flash, is bottomed out in her pierced cunt.

Both me and Doug thrust in simultaneously, quickly finding a brisk pace, and Emma thrashes around like she's fucking loving it.

We've had the build-up, the foreplay. It's all been about this. And it's just animal rutting now.

So I think Emma's as surprised as I am when Doug kisses her. It's not loving; it's passionate – lots of tongue twirling and sucking. In a funny way, it makes me more jealous than the fact he's pounding into her pussy. And, for a reason I can't explain, it turns me on even more.

We switch to an alternate rhythm; I push in as Doug pulls out. It's strange being able to feel his cock inside Emma, but it's so good that I'm soon worried again about cumming.

I stop thrusting, and that lets Doug really go to town.

"Oh my God," Emma mutters. "Are you gonna cum in me again?"

"I want to cum in your mouth," Doug groans.

"NO!" Emma cries. "Cum in my pretty pussy. My kitty wants your cream."

"No, I'm gonna cover your face and make you eat it up."

Emma lifts her legs, causing her to sink a little further onto my wood, and wraps her fetish boots around Doug's back, holding him in.

"Please don't. I'm not on the pill. I want a baby. Don't you want a baby with me?" she pouts.

Doug stops, and Emma kisses him – this time more softly and seductive. My heart screams, but my dick twitches.

"Please send your baby-making juice into my unprotected pussy."

"I've never met anyone like you before," Doug tells Emma, and he ploughs into her with renewed fervour. "You're incredible."

"You're pretty fucking good yourself."

Jealousy burning, I knead her breasts and pull on her nipple rings as I make slight movements in and out of her arsehole; Emma rubs at her pierced clit, her hand a blur.

"Are you gonna paint my insides with your spunk? Are you gonna fill me up? Oh God!"

He slams into her so hard he nearly lifts her off my dick.

"I'm gonna cum," Doug pants.

"Yes! Knock me up!" Emma screams. "Do IIIITTTTT!!!"

The last word becomes a scream as she orgasms at the same time as both Doug and I fire our loads into her. I've never cum so hard in all my life and, judging from the way she seems to have lost all control of her body, neither has Emma. Her ejaculate sprays out in all directions, soaking Doug and I, and some even hits the ceiling.

Still squeezing her boobs, I hold her to me, soaking up every little shudder and sensation that racks her body.

She did this for me, and she obviously loved it as much as I wanted her to. 

I want to stay like this forever.

Doug moves to get up, but Emma locks him in place with her boots around his waist.

"No, wait." She kisses him, long and hard. "That was the most amazing experience of my life, thank you."

"Mine too," he replies, and showers her face and neck with little kisses.

Emma giggles, and twists to me, giving me a quick peck. Not as nice as the kiss Doug got.

She purrs as she relaxes back on me. "I hope you enjoyed that 'cos, whether you want to or not, I'm definitely doing that again!"



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 09



HALF TERM, DAY 5, WEDNESDAY

"Sweetie, wake up."

What a wonderful way to leave the land of slumber. Emma pressing her gloriously naked body into mine, whispering, as she smothers me with smooches.

"Good morning, lovely," I say, and move forward to kiss her, but...

My hands are cuffed to headboard of the bed.

"Honey, what...?"

"Shush," she urges. "Today's the turn of my fantasy, right?"

I nod warily. "Right."

"Well, since last night, my fantasies have got a little... wilder."

"Like what?" I ask, with a mix of trepidation and huge excitement.

"You told me you wouldn't mind if I fucked anyone I wanted... today, we're going to test that theory."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. So if you're having any second thoughts, speak now or forever hold your peace."

She looks me in the eye -- I meet her gaze with a little grin. Silent.

She smiles widely and kisses me, slipping her pierced tongue into my mouth, but ending it all too soon.

She moves, and I now see that Doug is still sleeping on the other side of Emma. She slithers down between his legs and takes his soft cock into her hot, wet mouth.

She gently strokes and slurps on Doug's dick until it swells in her mouth, stretching her lips; then she licks around the head and down to his balls, sucking on them one by one.

A surprised groan -- Doug is finally awake. I don't know how he managed to stay asleep that long, but now he strokes Emma's hair behind one ear, and eases her mouth back to his cockhead.

She eagerly takes his pole to the back of her throat until she gags, then fucks herself on it. Doug holds her head, guiding it back and forth, and she mews contentedly.

"I'm getting close," he warns, and Emma reluctantly pulls away from his dick.

"Not yet, you've gotta fuck me first," she purrs. "Now, go wait in the living room, I'll be right with you."

I think Doug's as confused as I am, but he does as he's told.

Emma turns to me and smiles her sweetest smile. "You need to get used to not being able to watch, because there are times when I'm gonna want to fuck someone when you aren't there. Ok?"

"Oh God," I groan, and she giggles before disappearing out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

I daren't breathe. Listening intently, I can only hear the odd muffled sound.

Until I hear Emma moan loudly. 

Then the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin, rising in volume in sync with her moaning.

I hate this.

I close my eyes, trying to picture my sweet Emma, allowing herself to be defiled by some random perv she picked up from a lapdancing club last night. I imagine her face contorted in pleasure as his cock stretches her...

I notice, and am almost surprised, that my dick is rock hard and pointing straight up in the air.

I love this.

Emma's little yelps signal how fast he's pounding into her, and it's fast. And he's keeping it going for an impressive length of time.

Finally, a yell of: "Cum inside me!", followed shortly by a heavy male grunt, and the unmistakeable scream of Emma's orgasm.

I wait.

I can hear murmurs -- they must be talking about something. 

Eventually, they come back into the bedroom. Doug grabs his clothes and heads for the bathroom; Emma lies down next to me, resting her head on my pierced nipple.

"Was that good?" I ask.

"Yeah," she sighs contentedly. "But I think a little better for him than it was for me."

"That doesn't surprise me. You're incredible."

She smiles at my compliment. "No, I mean... he offered to 'take me away from this', so I wouldn't have to 'be a whore' any more."

My anger flames. "Are you serious?!"

She giggles. "Yeah! He said I deserved better than selling myself, and he would make sure I never had to work again."

"The fucking arsehole, I'm gonna..."

Emma puts a finger to my lips to stop me, and smiles lovingly. Like magic, my anger dissipates.

"I told him there was nothing he could do to ever make me leave you."

Wow. That's the first time she's said anything about us staying together. I tear up.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too." She gives me a quick peck on the lips, then playfully rolls away.

***

Doug's gone. Emma's in the bathroom "putting her slut face on".

I'm still cuffed to the bed.

Emma left me to ponder who she's going to pull next. She said she's got someone particular in mind; that it's someone I know; and that she's heard he has a really big dick. 

There aren't many people we both know. She temped in my office for a while between teaching jobs, but I wouldn't have thought it would be someone from there -- she didn't really like any of them. She met one of my old school friends once, but I wouldn't have thought he was that well endowed...

Naked, Emma wanders back into the room with bright red lipstick; hooker-heavy shadowed eyes; and her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, with loose strands framing her delicate facial features.

"You're looking gorgeous," I tell her.

She flashes a smile. "Thanks sweetie," and searches in the wardrobe until she pulls out a pair of shiny red stretch-leather thigh-high boots with a pointy-toe and black 5-inch stiletto heels.

"Oh wow," I mutter.

Emma grins at me, and makes the most of the opportunity to tease. She perches on the edge of the bed and slides a long leg into one of the boots, easing the stretchy material up until it settles at mid-thigh, then ever...so...slowly pulls up the zip. It fits skintight and really highlights her shapely pin.

She repeats the process with her other leg, and runs her fingers up and down; a twinkle in her eye.

She stands, feet together, and tugs the top of the boots up to eliminate any wrinkles.

"Fuck me, you have to let me loose," I say, battling my bindings.

"Nuh-uh," she grins, sliding a finger between her already-damp pussy lips. "This is for someone else."

Her piercings glinting, she totters on the high heels back to the wardrobe; removes a black latex coat, and puts it on.

"Is that all you're wearing?"

"Well, y'know, just in case he's a little hesitant, I want to be able to show him what he'd be missing."

She ignores the coat's zip and instead ties the belt around her tiny waist. It's just about long enough to reach the top of her boots but, when she moves, it gapes open to display plenty of bare thigh -- and only just covers her cunt.

"I love how big a slut you're becoming."

"Hold that thought for when I get back."

"Why?" I ask. "Who is it?"

"Last chance -- are you sure you don't mind me fucking anyone I choose? You promise not to get angry?"

"Oh God, I promise. Now just tell me who it is!"

Emma leans over to whisper in my ear...

Instead, she gives me a quick peck on the cheek and sashays quickly out of the door, giggling as she goes.

Torture. Sheer torture.

***

Ninety minutes. My hands are getting sore. Where has she gone? It can't be taking this long to persuade whoever-it-is, especially not the way she was dressed.

She wouldn't have played the "it's for my benefit, you don't get to see" card again, would she? She wouldn't be that cruel...

Footsteps! A pair of them... one of them definitely her boots. She's back!

I hear the front door open, and laughter... I recognise that laugh. Oh no.

The bedroom door swings open.

Turns out she is pretty cruel. The guy she's gonna fuck is my arsehole boss.

Steve pervs over all the girls in the office; he perved over Emma for the few months she worked there and, rumour has it, he's fucked at least three of my colleagues. One of them got the promotion that I deserved. And he's married.

"So this is who you're doing for your week off," he leers.

"Him? Really?!" I ask Emma.

"You'll see why in a second," she grins, and signals to Steve to sit on the edge of the bed. She kneels between his legs and unzips his fly.

There's the only reason -- his dick is cut and, only semi-erect, is already bigger than mine. Seems those rumours were true too.

"Ooh, that's lovely," coos Emma, as she takes it in her hand and strokes sensuously. Her dainty digits don't reach all the way around its circumference, and it's still growing. "Shame it's attached to such an arsehole."

She smiles sweetly up at Steve, who grins back. "You don't have to like me, but you're gonna love my cock."

I hate his fucking arrogance. Surely she could have found someone else with a big dick...

And then it hits me. She knows I hate him more than anyone else in the world. Hell, she hates him too. That's why this is the perfect test. If I let her fuck him, then she'll know I won't have a problem with her fucking anyone else.

She licks up the length of his pole and takes the head into her mouth, slurping noisily and mewling contentedly. Then she starts bobbing her head, taking him deeper into her throat each time.

"Oh yeah. When did you get your tongue pierced?" Steve asks. "It feels fucking good."

She pulls back from his dick, smiling. "You like that, you're in for a real treat in a minute." Her lips stretch wide as she gags on his rod; it must be eleven inches long, and she's managed eight of them.

Suddenly, she pulls back.

"Hey, I thought you were gonna deepthroat..."

His protests die as Emma unties her coat and lets it fall to the ground. 

Before today, he would have thought Emma was a sweet, cute, girly-girl. And she was. Now, she stands in front of us with her slutty make-up, tattoos, and fetish boots; with rings in her navel and nipples; with a diamond in her clit; and her pussy dripping and open.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Steve asks, flabbergasted.

"Don't you like?" Emma asks coyly, striking a pose.

"Yeah, but..."

"Good," Emma interrupts. "Now get undressed."

As he tears off his clothes, Emma grabs a pen and, in big red letters, writes "SLUT" on her stomach.

Steve stands in front of her and just stares. I doubt he can believe his luck. Or the transformation since the last time he saw his ex-employee.

"Forget what you used to know about me. Ok?" she asks.

"Whatever you say."

"That's what I like to hear." She pushes him back onto the bed and straddles him, pinning his dick between his disappointingly-well-toned stomach and her cooch.

Glancing over to me, she slides back and forth, covering his pole with her juices, bumping the tip against her pierced clit each time; then hovers her groin above his, teasing all three of us.

He points his dick up at her snatch and asks, "You sure you want this? His little prick won't be enough for you anymore."

She grins wickedly and lowers herself so just the head of his dick separates her lips. "What do you think?"

He grabs her by the hips and pulls her down; her eyes go wide and she yelps with the sudden, massive intrusion.

"Oh my God, it's huge!"

And it's only halfway in.

She lifts herself; then pushes back down, forcing more of his fat dick into her tight hole.

"C'mon, a real slut could take this, no problem," Steve goads.

Emma glowers at Steve and slams herself down -- and still there's a a bit more than an inch left.

She slowly moves up and down, getting used to new parts of her body being stretched, but quickly speeds up until she's bouncing rapidly.

"Oh my fucking God, how is it this good?" she asks of no-one in particular. Steve's familiar shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face; he grabs her pierced tits, squeezing and mauling, and pinching the hard nipples until Emma cries out in pain... but she doesn't stop him, or stop riding him.

"Did you have these when you worked for me?" he asks, tugging sharply on Emma's nipple rings.

"Ughh, no."

"Bet you got them when you broke up with your boyfriend?"

"Who said I broke up with him?" she pants. "We're engaged."

Steve laughs. "You're fucking kidding me! Does he know you're slutting around on him?"

Emma rubs her pierced clit. "Oh God! What do you think?"

With a growl, Steve lifts Emma off him, causing her to whine in disappointment, and throws her onto her back in his place; then smashes his cock into her, causing her to yell out.

"You're gonna take all my cock, whore."

He holds her down and subjects her to a series of short, forceful jabs of his pelvis. She struggles and wriggles beneath him, but oddly doesn't seem to be trying as hard as she could to stop him.

I strain against my cuffs again, hating Emma's pained little yelps.

"No, please, it's too much... aaarrgGGHHHHHHHH!!!" she screams; then cums more powerfully than I have ever seen. Even she seems surprised to be completely overcome; her body convulsing uncontrollably as she squirts high into the air, soaking Steve's chest and some even landing on me.

"You squirted! You filthy bitch!" Steve exclaims. He repositions her, squashing her hot overknee boots into her flushed tits, and licking one of her stilettos.

He thrusts into her hard and fast, using the full length of his pole, not giving her a chance to recover.

"Ooooh, God, stop, please" she begs, pushing a hand into his chest, but he ploughs into her even harder.

"Aaagghh... stop... ooohh... God, fuck... fuck... aaaggh... don't stop, DON'T STOP!!"

Her hand drops from his chest to her clit, rubbing vigourously until, incredibly, she squirts again, screaming the place down.

"Oh my fucking GOD!!"

Still he pistons into her, like a machine.

Her orgasm seems to be never-ending.

It wasn't bad enough that she picked this arsehole to fuck, but now he's making her cum like I know I never could.

Yet, still, my dick is rock hard, and one stroke away from my own orgasm.

Belatedly, he pulls out of her. She cries out in anguish, and Steve drags her off the bed and makes her kneel in front of him. Without needing to be told, Emma takes his cock into her mouth and bobs her head eagerly.

With both hands, he grabs hold of her beautiful face and fucks his dick into it, violating her pretty mouth and throat. He yanks her into his crotch; Emma gags trying to accomodate his massive tool.

He holds her there, forcing himself deeper into her. She gags again and tries to pull away, but he holds her for another one, two... ten seconds...

"Hey, let her..." I begin and, finally, he lets Emma go.

She battles to cough and breathe at the same time, but still seems disappointed when Steve moves over to his pile of clothes.

I can see lust burning in her eyes. 

He swaggers back to her, over-sized dick swinging, and she immediately takes it back in her mouth; she grasps his arse and pulls him down her throat.

She gags again as she repeatedly slams herself into him, until her cute nose is buried in his neatly-trimmed pubes.

"Look up, slut," Steve says. She does, and he takes a photo on his smartphone. Far from being bothered, I swear she's smiling -- even with her mouth stretched full.

"I'm gonna show all the people you used to work with what a complete skank you've turned into."

She removes herself from his dick. "Yeah? All of them? Show all of them." 

She lunges back for his cock, but he steps backward, then turns around.

"Lick my arsehole," he smirks.

What?!

"What?" Emma says.

"Lick my arsehole," he repeats.

"No."

"No? Don't you want any more dick?" he grins. "No licking -- no fucking."

She looks over at me. Is she searching for my approval? Is she actually considering it?!

I just stare back at her. I don't know what to do, so the easiest thing is to do nothing. Let her make her own mind up of where she wants to draw the line.

She shrugs at me and, as way of explanation, says: "I need it."

And she buries her sweet face between his arse cheeks. She's not in the slightest bit tentative as she sticks her pierced tongue into his puckered hole.

"Yeah," Steve mutters. "And you'd better make it good, or no dick."

Emma goes to town, giving herself over to her lust and her need for cock.

I don't know where the line is anymore. I don't know if there even is a line.

"Here," he says, handing her the phone, "I can't get a good angle. Video it for me."

I never thought I'd see her allow herself to be humiliated like this. 

Steve casually lights a cigarette as Emma gives his anus a tongue bath, all the while playing up for the camera that she's pointing at herself.

Emma pokes her tongue past his sphincter, and he jumps forward in surprise. "Fucking hell, you filthy bitch! Here, hold this." He gives her the cigarette and grabs back the camera.

To my shock, she takes a drag on the cigarette. This is the girl who's hated them ever since her uncle died of lung cancer, and threatened to leave The Boyfriend after he took one drag at a party one time.

She coughs, not used to the sensation, but has another go.

Steve's pointing the camera at her. "Well, you can keep that. I know where your mouth has been."

Emma giggles, making a show of smoking seductively.

"Get on the bed, butt facing me," he orders.

She stamps out the fag on my wooden floor and enthusiastically does as she's told -- just inches from me, she's on all fours, bum in the air, waiting...

"Kiss your slave," Steve grins.

Emma leans over and -- with her mouth still dirty from Steve's arse -- she kisses me full on the lips, even slipping her pierced tongue into my mouth. She tastes foul, but it's still a hot kiss.

I'm so conflicted.

She whispers, "I love you," then readies herself as Steve lines himself up behind her.

"Come on then," Emma urges Steve. "Fuck your slut good."

"Oh, you're MY slut are you?" he asks, sneering at me.

Emma looks back over her shoulder at him and, it seems to me, with complete sincerity, tells him: "I'm YOUR slut."

It was no more than a few days ago that she was saying the exact same thing to me.

"What about dickless, here?" he asks, referring to me.

Emma gets up and stands on my chest, her stiletto heels digging into my flesh. She leans forward and props herself against the wall behind me, arching her back and sticking her butt out lewdly.

"Fuck me until I squirt on his face," she purrs.

Steve grins at that and moves behind Emma, rubbing his pole over Emma's pussy lips, teasing her. "I love your tattoo. Further proof you're a dirty little tramp."

He slaps her, hard, on the butt. She squeals, but doesn't move.

He does it again, harder.

She moans.

She's said the one thing she didn't want to do, because she didn't like it, was pain. And here she was, seemingly loving having her arse beaten by a guy we both think is an arse himself.

"Harder," she murmurs.

But maybe she doesn't think he's an arse anymore. Maybe she's beginning to like him?

Steve gives her three quick whacks, then grabs her by the hips and spears into her dripping clam.

"Oooohhh my fucking God!" Emma yells, and steadies herself on me as he starts thrusting into her. Her eyes are closed as she concentrates on the sensations pulsing from her pussy.

"Who does this cunt belong to?" Steve asks, slapping her butt again.

"You, oh God, YOU!"

"Say it."

"My cunt's yours!" She moves a hand down to rub her clit piercing.

"When?" he presses.

She opens her grey-blue eyes and stares into mine. "Anytime, anytime you want it. You can do anything you want, anytime, anywhere -- just don't stop fucking me." 

The 5-inch heel of one of her boots seems to be digging straight into my heart. And it still hurts less than her words to my fucking boss.

He slaps her arse again.

"Owww, please don't..."

"Don't what?" Steve asks as he spanks her harder.

"That hurts, please don't..."

Steve stops fucking her. Emma groans in frustration, "I was so close."

"Ask me to hit you again."

Emma shakes her head. "Don't make me."

"Beg me," Steve grins.

She closes her eyes again. "Please Steve, please hit me."

"Beg!"

"I'm begging you..."

CRACK! The loudest slap yet, and Emma howls as he pounds into her. The smacks continue to rain down on her perfect derriere.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 09



"Punish that butt! Fuck yes!"

Emma's rubbing of her clit becomes desperate and, with an ear-splitting scream, she orgasms -- spraying my face and chest, and her sexy red boots, with her cum. She gazes into my eyes, a look of complete passion and pleasure on her face like I have never seen. She's shaking and trembling, and I'm sure she's only still upright because Steve is holding her up, laughing.

"Tell me again -- who does this pussy belong to?"

"You," Emma breathes heavily, still recovering, as Steve's dick saws slowly in and out of her.

"What about your slutty mouth? Is that mine too?"

"Yes."

"What about your tight little arsehole?"

Emma's eyes widen, and she pulls away from him.

"No."

"No?"

She hops off me and leaps off the bed. "Not my arse."

Steve moves swiftly and corners her. "But you're my slut. And sluts get arse-fucked."

He lunges and grabs Emma, throwing her onto the bed next to me and pinning her face down.

"No, I don't want this," Emma pleads.

Steve pushes a finger past her sphincter, quickly followed by a second. Emma wriggles and bucks, trying to get free. He slaps her butt, still glowing red from its earlier punishment.

"Enough," I interject.

"Shut up," he tells me.

My hands may be tied, but I kick out at Steve. "Leave her alone, she said no."

Steve tugs at Emma's ponytail, pulling her head back. "Tell him to shut up and watch quietly."

I can see the conflict in her eyes -- and I realise that the very fact there's even conflict means that at least part of her wants this.

She seems to come to the same conclusion: "Shut up. Watch quietly," she whispers.

Steve sniggers. "Tell him you belong to me now."

"I belong to him." She avoids my gaze. I can see a tear in her eye.

"Tell him you want me to fuck your arse."

"I want him to fuck my arse until I cum all over his big dick."

Steve guffaws. "Take my cock and put it in."

Emma reaches behind her and grasps his thick pole. She arches her back and pushes back onto him.

"Oh shit, it's so big!" Emma grunts as it splits her open.

Steve's somehow got his phone in his hand again, filming. "Yeah, show everyone what a slut you are. Hold your butt open for me."

Emma uses her hands to spread open her pert arse cheeks as Steve forces his dick between them. Her eyes are closed but her eyelids flicker as she feels every ridge and vein of his cock stretching her.

"That's it, halfway there."

"Only half!?" Emma exclaims. "Oh God."

"You're gonna take it all, aren't you?"

To answer, Emma eases off it a bit, then shoves back, taking a further three inches inside her.

"Nearly there," he urges.

Emma rocks forward and bucks back, time after time, driving him deeper, until...

"That's it!" Steve declares. "Now, look back into the camera and say 'hi' to all your old workmates."

Emma looks back over her shoulder, her hands still spreading her arse cheeks, and flashes her sweetest smile:

"Hi Ann, hi Debbie, hi Julie, hi Andy, hi Dan, hi everybody else... your boss has the best dick in the world! He's already made me cum... oh God, I don't know how many times, and now he's going to fuck my tiny arsehole." She wiggles her full bum for unnecessary emphasis. "Please fuck your anal slut hard," she pouts, and licks her lips seductively with her pierced tongue.

Steve wastes no time and, with no regard for her, immediately starts pounding Emma's anus. She squeals but, instead of protesting, lifts her butt for better access.

"So big, so big," she mutters over and over, and reaches down to rub her pierced clit.

"You're so fucking tight," Steve groans as he slows for a moment; then renews his assault, even faster than before.

Emma's mutters merge into one long moan as she lies there, taking a hammering from one of our least favourite people in the world.

"RAPE MY ARSE!" she yells, and she cums so powerfully I worry she might hurt herself; she thrashes about on Steve's dick while he keeps pummeling her poor arsehole.

"Oh fuck," shouts Steve, and he pulls out and flips Emma over, and unloads all over her pretty face; Emma opens her mouth, trying desperately to catch some of his spunk on her tongue; and he sticks his pole between her lips and buries it in her throat, thrusting a few times for good measure. Finally, he collapses backward, spent.

They both lie down, breathing hard. Emma absentmindedly scoops some sperm off her face with her fingers and licks it off.

"Wait, I want a record of my cum on your face," says Steve, and he points his phone at her.

She makes a show of it, seducing the camera. "If any of you want some fun, give me a call," she purrs with a wink.

***

Emma closes the door after Steve and totters back into the bedroom, where I'm STILL cuffed to the bed, with a painful hard-on.

"Can you let me go now?" I ask.

"That depends," she says as she climbs onto the bed and cuddles into me. "Do you forgive me?"

"For fucking the one man I hate more than anyone else in the world? For telling him you were his and that he could do anything he wanted with you?"

She blows gently on my dick. 

I cum like a fountain.

Emma giggles, and laps at the spunk where it lands all over my stomach. She looks up at me like a puppy, with love in her eyes.

"Of course I forgive you," I tell her.

She laughs and shakes her head, almost disbelievingly.

"You didn't ask me to stop, not once. Why not?"

"Because it was obvious how much you wanted it."

"But didn't you get upset? Didn't it make you jealous?"

"I can't tell you," I say. "It's a good job I was tied down or I'd have kicked his arse."

"Speaking of which..." Emma takes a key from under the pillow and unlocks my cuffs. I sigh in relief and rub my sore wrists.

Emma takes my hands from me and showers them with little kisses.

"So, I'm guessing he's the best you've had, right?

"No, you're the best," she smiles up at me.

"I've never made you cum like that."

"You're a better lover."

"But he's a better fucker."

She looks up at me, trying to read me. "Y'know, everyone's slightly different, and good in their own way. But yes, he was the best."

I nod, and kiss her tenderly on the forehead.

"Thank God he didn't cum in your pussy."

"I know. I could feel him past my cervix; he'd definitely have knocked me up. If I'm not already."

"But you'd have let him if he'd wanted to, wouldn't you? In the moment?"

She pauses, embarrassed and worried. "I'm sorry. I've never lost control like that before. I won't do it again."

"I want you to do it again. Not particularly with him, but..."

"There's no way I'm fucking him again."

"Are you sure? You seemed to really enjoy it..."

"I'm positive. I'm sure there are other guys out there with dicks as nice as his. And it's going to be fun finding them."

***

I suggested we go out for our evening meal; somewhere nice, and get a little dressed up. For me, that means a suit. For Emma... she won't show me. She's wearing a knee-length black leather coat, and my old favourite pointy-toe silver stilettos. She did at least tell me that she was wearing something underneath the jacket this time.

She's got her hair extensions in, so her blonde locks curl long over one shoulder and look amazing. Her make-up is done to accentuate her beauty, rather than her sluttiness (for a break in the recent trend), and she looks every inch a top-end model.

I lead her into a small, romantic Italian restaurant that we'd been to once before, on my 30th birthday. Of course, The Boyfriend had had to come with us that time. Not now.

I ask for the empty corner booth, but Emma over-rules and points out a table slap-bang in the middle of the restaurant, right in front of the bar.

No shenanigans tonight, then.

Like a gentleman, I help Emma with her coat, and...

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

She's wearing her pink latex tube dress. Her boobs are barely contained by the translucent material; I can see she's swapped her nipple rings for slightly more discreet bars, but they and her tattoos are still visible through the thin, skin-tight material.

I help her into her seat, stifling a gasp as the dress rides up to display her shaved cooch, and stumble to the chair opposite.

The waiter's eyes have popped out of their sockets. Despite the fact he must have asked it hundreds of times before, he can barely form his next question:

"Can I do you anything drink?"

Emma orders for us (though I couldn't tell you what), and the waiter disappears.

"I thought you said you could never wear that out of the house?" I whisper.

"I figured with the dim lighting in here, I might get away with it."

"And then you picked a table that couldn't be more exposed!"

"I'm feeling naughty," she explains with a wicked grin.

"Well, the waiter certainly likes it."

She smiles, coyly. "It was difficult not to notice."

"Do you want to fuck him?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes and giggles. "You're incorrigible."

***

We have a lovely meal. On top of everything else, Emma is great company.

I rang ahead and got something special planned for dessert. I don't know what's taking them so long; I'm not sure my nerves can take much longer.

Emma's phone beeps. She checks it.

"It's Steve. He's sent me the video from this afternoon."

Suddenly, Steve's voice echoes around the quiet restaurant: "Lick my arsehole."

Emma hurriedly fumbles with her phone to stop it, then collapses into giggles.

I wait for her to recover her poise -- but notice her nipples have hardened under the dress. My dick has been hard since she took her coat off.

"Are you worried about him showing it around?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Not really. I don't live around here anymore, and you're the only one I've kept in contact with from the old office. And, y'know, it's true. It happened. I've got to admit I'm a slut now."

Then it suddenly occurs to her: "Are you worried about him showing it around?"

"No," I smile. "Because, at the end of the day, you're here with me."

She smiles sweetly at me, and the waiter arrives with our desserts.

Her jaw drops.

The large bowl in front of her has a circle of ice cream, cream and fruit -- like a knickerbocker glory, her favourite -- and the circle surrounds a jewellery box with a ring in it. A diamond ring.

I drop to one knee beside the table and take her hand.

"Emma, you make me happier than I ever thought possible. You're perfect in every way, and I love you with my whole heart, body, and soul. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?"

Time crawls so agonisingly slowly as she just stares at me, stunned.

Then...

The corner of her mouth curls into a tiny grin.

"I could never say no to you," she smiles.

We both stand, and embrace, and kiss; I'm only partly aware of some applause, but that's probably more for the way Emma looks in her dress.

I take the ring from its box and place it on her finger. It fits perfectly and sparkles in the flickering candlelight.

"So that's why you took my other engagement ring -- to check the size for this?" Emma grins.

"I was surprised you didn't say anything. I've kept it safe, ready for you to give back to him," I say, slightly warily.

Emma kisses me, hard, then turns to make an accouncement to the rest of the restaurant:

"I'm going to fuck my new fiance, right here, right now. If anyone has a problem with that, they can leave; anyone who wants to stay and watch, you're very welcome."

"What the...?" I ask.

She whispers in my ear, "I always fuck you right after I get engaged." 

Then she turns to the staff who, aware of my impending proposal, had gathered to offer their congratulations:

"I hope you don't mind, but you can't stop us," Emma tells them as she kneels in front of me, unzipping my fly. "We won't be too long, promise."

One or two of the older couples are on their way to the exit, and I can see the manager on the phone... to the police, maybe? I cease to care as Emma swallows my entire hard dick in a single movement.

"Oh God," I murmur, as her purrs send vibrations through my erection.

She rolls the top of her tube dress down and tugs on her pierced nipples; her head bobbing furiously; my cock sliding deep into her throat; her eyes locked on mine.

"We have to hurry," I urge.

She stands and sweeps everything off our table, making a complete mess on the floor. She leans over, her pierced tits pressed against the tablecloth, and spreads her legs wide. The pink latex of her dress is so short and tight that it rides up all the way over her arse without prompting.

I shuffle behind her and press into her wet pussy. It's not as tight as it was when I was last in it; but the memory of why is a massive turn-on, so I don't care.

We both groan; and I begin fucking her hard while lovingly stroking her tramp stamp with the arrow of my name.

I notice a couple of smartphones pointed our direction -- Emma fucking on film again!

She lifts one knee up onto the table, giving me better access. 

I increase the pace.

Our waiter cautiously approaches: "The manager has rung the police."

Shit.

"Sweetie, does this ring mean I can't fuck other people anymore?" Emma pants between thrusts.

"Of course not, honey," I reply.

Her hand snakes out and tugs at the waiter's belt. "Do you do spitroasts in this restaurant?" she giggles.

The waiter helps her out and hastily releases his fairly-large dick, which Emma immediately sucks into her mouth.

I pound into her, pushing her throat further onto his pole.

Emma reaches behind herself and slides her finger -- the one with my engagement ring on it -- up her tight little anus. Yep, that'll do it.

"I'm nearly there," I warn.

Sirens. Getting closer. Shit.

Emma takes the waiter's cock from her mouth and wanks him with her free hand. "Don't stop until you cum in me," she orders me.

I slam repeatedly into her boiling snatch with all my might.

I can hear the police cars turn onto this road. Oh God.

"I'm cumming!" I yell, and unload into her perfect pussy; which triggers her orgasm. As I fill her up, she sprays all over the table and the floor; her legs collapse; her wedding finger slips out of her arsehole.

Panicking, I ease out of her earlier than I'd like, and straighten myself.

Emma's still lying across the table, holding the waiter's prick, quivering with aftershocks, when the sirens pull up outside, and we're bathed in flashing red and blue lights.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't finish," Emma says to the waiter. "We've gotta go."

"I'll show you out the back way," he says.

Emma struggles to pull her dress so that it at least covers something, as we follow him through the kitchen and he holds the fire door open for us.

"Come back anytime," he almost begs.

We run into the fresh evening air, hand in hand, laughing gleefully. 

Life can't get much better.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 10



HALF TERM, DAY 6, THURSDAY - HALLOWEEN

What a busy day. 4pm and this is the first opportunity for a pause, to gather my breath. And it's on the way to do something that I'm dreading.

It's been so busy, in fact, that we didn't even have time for a morning fool-around. We had lots to get sorted.

After we avoided the police and got home last night, I told Emma that I wanted to marry her as soon as possible -- and that I'd worked out a plan. I knew she'd never liked the idea of a big wedding, so I proposed that we fly out somewhere on Friday; get married on Saturday; and return on Sunday.

She loved it. 

I'd done the research, and one of the easiest places for a quickie wedding is Gibraltar. So, while she spent the morning shopping for a wedding dress, I booked flights and a hotel, and got us packed.

Then we went to my parents' place for lunch. 

They'd already met Emma briefly once before, and were well aware of my long-held love of her, so they must have suspected something when I told them I was bringing her with me.

When we arrived, there were hugs all round -- I'm sure I spied a funny look on my Dad's face when Emma pressed her body into his, and he could hardly take his eyes off her thereafter.

Not that I could blame him -- I was exactly the same. She was dressed simply, with no make-up and her blonde hair in a loose ponytail, but still looked amazing. She wore a tight, long orange t-shirt with a sketch of Tinkerbell on the front; a pair of round-toe pumps with a hidden platform and a 5 inch heel, that matched the colour of her top almost exactly; and sexy wetlook leggings that made her legs looks incredible.

In this setting, Emma was the sweet girly-girl that I first fell in love with. You'd never believe that she'd had 4 different cocks in her yesterday. In a way, it was reassuring to see she was still the same loving, caring, beautiful woman that I'd wanted to marry for years.

My Mum quickly spotted Emma's engagement ring, so we told them the (edited) version of what was happening. How we were getting married in Gibraltar. How I planned to get a new job as soon as possible, nearer to Emma's house -- and that that would become our house. Emma was confident she could negotiate that with The Boyfriend. I didn't ask how.

Mum and Dad were a little disappointed they weren't going to be at the wedding, but we assured them there'd be a celebration when we got home.

Overall, I think they were just happy for us.

So, now we'e on our way back to her place. Tomorrow, I'm to explain to her family how I've managed to steal her away from a guy that they all love, and assumed she was going to marry and have children with. But that's not even the worst of it.

First, Emma has to break it off with The Boyfriend.

Neither of us are looking forward to it. The car is quiet and there's a sense of unease that won't lift.

This will not be pleasant.

***

Their street is busy as usual, so I park a couple of doors down from Emma's home.

"I'll be waiting right here," I tell her, squeezing her hand. "It'll be ok."

"It won't, but it's what I want. I just need to make him understand that."

She heaves a deep breath and exits the car. I watch her totter down their driveway and, in spite of myself and the situation, my dick gets chubby.

Emma had decided that the best way to persuade him it was over, was to be completely honest about how she'd turned into a slut. She knew there was no way he could stay with her if she was sleeping around on him. And that knowledge informed the outfit she decided to wear for breaking up with him...

She's wearing a knee-length black leather coat, but when she takes that off, The Boyfriend will probably have a melt down. Hugging her arse is a tiny, tight black latex mini-skirt that only just hides her pierced pussy. But there's only a few inches of thigh on show, because she's wearing the same shiny red stretch-leather thigh-high boots with a pointy-toe and black 5-inch stiletto heels that she wore to fuck Steve yesterday.

On top, she's wearing a red and black latex corset that makes her normally slim waist even narrower; and it sits just under her tits, lifting them deliciously but leaving them completely exposed. Hence the jacket.

But that's not all. She's got a silver chain linking the two pierced nipples on her bare breasts; and she's got a pretty large metal butt-plug up her arse too. Her pretty face is painted like a cheap whore with bright red lipstick, long fake lashes, and heavy dark eye make-up; and her long blonde hair is teased and tousled in that just-fucked look.

And the diamond ring on her wedding finger is mine, not his.

If it isn't immediately obvious that the sweet girl he fell in love with has changed somewhat, then I'm calling the men in white coats to take him away.

I settle in for what could be a long wait while they thrash this out.

***

But I didn't expect it to take this long. 2 hours. Really?!

As parents do their Halloween duty and lead their kids around the neighbourhood, trick or treating, I feel a little creepy -- as though the parents think I'm there to look at their little girl dressed as a Disney princess.

I might have to invite myself into Emma and The Boyfriend's discussion soon, before someone calls the police.

I'll put it off a little while longer. I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing The Boyfriend. He's sure to blame me for corrupting Emma -- and it's difficult to argue against that. But it was her choice. I was careful to never force her into anything she didn't want to do.

That won't be any comfort to him.

Finally I get the message I've been waiting for, but didn't want to arrive.

I exit my car, stretching my cramped muscles, and carry/wheel Emma's suitcases of clothes to the house with all the enthusiasm of a man headed to the electric chair.

The front door opens and all that's forgotten. Now I know part of the reason why it's taken so long. 

Emma's changed outfits.

She's dressed as a too-fucking-hot Goldilocks. Not too cold, not just the right amount, but too fucking hot.

The outfit is a small, strapless, yellow and white dress which flares out into a petticoat that only just covers her crotch. Her tits are pushed together and are nearly falling out of the top. She has a yellow bow in her hair, white overknee socks, and shiny black Mary-Jane-style pumps with a 4.5 inch heel. 

"Wow," I murmur.

"We're going out." She does not look happy.

I dump her bags just inside the door.

"What have you done to her, you fucking bastard!" The Boyfriend yells at me.

"I told you!" Emma shouts back, angrier than I've ever seen her. "This isn't about him. This is about what I want, and it isn't you!"

She slams the door and strides toward my car and, in my attempt to keep up, I can't help noticing that her dress leaves the lower curves of her pert bottom uncovered, and I can't see any underwear.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

"He doesn't believe me. I tried to show him the videos on my phone, but he wouldn't watch. He put his hands over his ears like a fucking 5 year old! So we're going to find a couple of guys to fuck me, and prove to him that he doesn't want me anymore."

"Wow, ok. So where are we going?"

"There's a bar nearby that's got a Halloween party on tonight -- it's pretty rough, but I should be able to pick up a couple of guys there."

We get into my car.

"You look incredible, by the way. Beautiful, cute and sexy," I tell her.

In spite of her foul mood, she smiles. "That's becoming a bit of a catchphrase."

"I know," I grin.

"I was going to wear this for you tonight, but... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'll enjoy watching!"

"Oh no, you're joining in."

***

Again, I'm left waiting outside.

At least I know that, dressed like she is, she isn't going to have trouble picking up guys. I wonder what type of man she'll go for? As long as...

Oh my fucking God. I didn't expect that.

Emma's strutting over to me with three hulking black guys. One's dressed as a caveman; one's a mobster; and the last is a Spartan warrior.

And it seems like they already can't keep their hands off her, with one guy groping a tit through her top, and another with his hand up her dress.

I get out of the car and pull the seat forward so three of them can climb in the back.

"Look sweetie," Emma purrs, "I found my three bears."

She's not wrong. They're huge.

***

We make the short journey back to Emma's place. Emma spent the whole time laying across the laps of two of the guys in the back, the rings in her nipples being sucked on and her pussy being fingered. The Caveman sat up front next to me kept getting in the way by reaching back for a grope.

There's no way The Boyfriend will still believe she's all sweetness and light after this.

We bundle through the door and The Boyfriend's eyes bug out. "What the fuck?!"

"You thought I was joking?" Emma asks, her hand stroking The Mobster's large bulge through his trousers. "Upstairs. Now. You need to see this."

He hesitates.

"The lady wasn't asking," The Mobster glares at him; and The Boyfriend leads the way.

We all traipse into their bedroom: The Boyfriend stands awkwardly in the far corner; I hang back in the doorway.

"I want to see your cocks," Emma says. She drops her dress and sinks to her knees. "You too, sweetie," she purrs to me.

I step forward, unzipping my jeans, and immediately I feel a little inadequate. The Mobster's dick is the smallest of the three, and his is 10 inches long, and thick. The Caveman's weapon is 11 inches but slightly thinner, and is remarkably similar to Steve's. The Spartan, however... 

He's the biggest guy at 6 foot 8, built like a brick shithouse, and has a dick to match. It must be 13, maybe 14 inches long, and thicker than Emma's forearm.

And Emma seems instantaneously infatuated by it. A little intimidated, but mostly excited. I can see the lust taking over as she licks her lips and grabs the Spartan's pole.

"Suck it, bitch," he orders.

I don't think she needed telling.

She opens her mouth wide, and her lips stretch obscenely as she forces the first few inches into her mouth, and bobs her head eagerly. The contrast of the deep black dick against her pretty white face is startling, and hot.

I sneak a quick look at The Boyfriend, and his jaw has hit the floor.

Emma pulls back. "Oh God, it's huge. It's perfect. I'm in love."

She doesn't let go, but keeps tugging on it as she opens her mouth for The Mobster's piece. He grabs her head and makes her take it down her throat, causing her to gag. He fucks her face without any concern for her; then holds his dick all the way in, Emma's cute nose buried in his pubes.

She tries to pull back but he won't let her -- I'm about to intervene when he pulls out and throws her to the floor, leaving her gasping and spluttering.

He's clearly the most aggressive of them. I'm going to have to keep an eye on him -- although I'm not sure there's a lot I could do if it came to a fight. I hope Emma knows what she's got herself in for.

"Whore!" he exclaims, and pulls her back to her knees by her hair. "Open your mouth."

Emma obeys, sticking out her pierced tongue, and The Mobster spits in it. "Swallow."

Emma makes a show of gulping his spittle down.

"You fucking skanky bitch." He throws her to his mate, The Caveman, who shoves his cock down her throat and fucks it like it's a pussy. Seriously, he has hold of her head and is thrusting in and out of her so hard, I'd be seriously worried -- if Emma wasn't moaning with desire.

The Spartan pulls her back to him, and attacks her mouth with his monster.

"C'mon slut, you can take their's, you can take mine."

As he has his hands in her hair, pushing into her; she has her hands on his arse, pulling him in. They're both giving it all they can, but there are still three inches she can't take.

Emma removes herself, spitting over the tool. "Let's try something different."

She hardly seems to notice I'm there, so I back away again. 

She lies on her back on her bed, wearing only her socks, heels, and the ribbon in her hair that seems absurdly cute given the situation. Her head hangs over the edge. "This seems to work better in pornos."

When did she watch this kind of porn?!

The Spartan lines up and pushes his cock straight down her throat, immediately further than before, leaving only one inch.

"Nearly there, bitch," he growls, and begins pounding her throat until he has all of himself inside her on each thrust. Emma hands grasp the back of his thighs, trying to encourage him deeper.

It's incredible.

The other two, meanwhile, haven't been standing around. The Caveman is stabbing two of his big digits into Emma's pierced and dripping pussy. The Mobster is torturing her tits -- kneading them and twisting her stiff, pierced nipples.

"You need a boob job, slut. How'm I s'posed to fuck these?" he grumbles, slapping them, hard.

Again, I consider stepping in, but again, Emma's erotically-charged mewling convinces me not to.

"I'm gonna fuck this cunt," The Caveman proclaims.

The Spartan withdraws from Emma's mouth. "You wanna watch your first black fucking?"

"Fuck yeah," Emma says. "Give it to me."

"Wait -- what about a condom?" The Boyfriend speaks up from his corner.

"I told you, I want a baby," Emma spits.

"You want us to knock you up, slut?" The Spartan asks.

"Yeah! Give me a little black baby."

"You know the cliche," The Caveman rumbles, rubbing his dick over her mound. "Once you go black, you won't go back. You won't even feel your fiance's prick after this. You sure you want that?"

Emma's beautiful grey-blue eyes search me out, and stare deep into mine. "Ruin my cunt," she purrs.

I quickly fish out my phone and film the moment that The Caveman's big black dick pierces my beloved Emma's glistening pussy. Her moan is full of lust.

"Fuck, she's tight. You can tell she hasn't had black before," The Caveman grunts as he eases himself deeper.

I don't like to tell him that she had a dick almost identical in size to his just yesterday.

"Stop fannying around and fuck me," Emma says, and yanks The Mobster's cock into her mouth.

She asked for it. The Mobster fucks her face every bit as hard as The Caveman slams into her pussy. The Spartan chuckles at The Boyfriend, crying in the corner.

"She's a black cock slut now, needledick."

The Mobster pulls out of Emma's mouth and slaps her face with his fat dick; Emma chases, desperately trying to get her lips around it.

"Lick my balls, bitch."

Emma does, and eagerly, sucking one ball and then the other into her mouth and bathing each with her pierced tongue.

"Flip her over," The Spartan orders. Emma gets on all fours and wiggles her bum enticingly in the air, and The Caveman resumes his primal fucking of her cunt.

The Spartan reclaims her mouth, despite a glare from The Mobster -- who, pissed off, separates his belt from his trousers.

"Ask me to whip your arse, bitch," he glowers.

Emma looks back at him. "Please, please whip my cute little bum."

The leather cracks across her flesh and she screams in pain. The Mobster stands there, waiting, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Challenging.

"Again," Emma asks.

The Mobster doesn't hold back and lashes her even harder -- Emma's cry becomes a moan.

"Again." Another thrash.

The Caveman's fucking her like a machine; I can tell Emma's getting close.

Already, welts are marking Emma's sweet bottom.

"Don't stop," she pleads.

"I'm gonna cum," The Caveman warns.

"Yes, cum inside me! Fill me up!" Emma urges as she tugs on The Spartan's pole and The Mobster flogs her arse repeatedly.

"Here it comes, bitch." The Caveman slams hard into her and holds deep.

"Pleeeaaaassseeee-aaaagggh!" she begs. One more thwack from the belt and she loses it, her cum spraying out in a powerful jet. Her arms go wobbly and can't support her weight, and she collapses forward onto her face and chest as her whole body quakes with jolts of pure pleasure.

It's a very fucking sexy sight, and I'm delighted I've got it on video.

"Holy fuck, she's a squirter!" exclaims The Mobster. "I fucking love squirters."

He pushes The Caveman out of the way and takes his place, pushing his wide dick into her sloppy pussy, displacing the spunk that oozes out.

"Ow, fuck," Emma mutters. 

The Mobster doesn't build up slowly -- he pumps into her at full pelt -- and that's all it takes...

Emma ejaculates again, adding another load of her cum to the already-drenched sheets below her.

But The Mobster doesn't let up, and neither does Emma's orgasm. It goes on, and on, until finally The Mobster stops, and kneads her sore red butt cheeks.

The Caveman lights a post-coital cigarette.

"Please don't smoke in here," murmurs The Boyfriend.

"Give it here," Emma says, and rather than stubbing it out, she begins smoking it, blowing the smoke in his direction. The Boyfriend shakes his head. He's knows it's over, but the big black brutes are blocking his escape route.

Emma exhales over The Spartan's dick, and alternates between licking his cock and sucking on the cigarette.

"I want to ride you," she tells him.

This is really going to push her limits.

The Spartan lies back on the bed, and The Mobster takes the fag from Emma as she moves into position astride the man mountain.

She grips his dick -- her fingers nowhere near encircling his girth -- and holds it up against her flat stomach.

"Oh my God, look, it's huge," she says. It reaches up past her jewellery-adorned belly button. I can't see how she's going to take it all without hurting herself.

She slowly gyrates against it, teasing everyone; and then kneels above the massive pole, pressing the tip gently between her folds.

"Oh God," she mutters as she pushes down. "I can't even get the head in."

The Spartan takes hold of her hips and humps upward.

"Ow, fuuuck!" Emma yells, as the first few inches disappear inside her. "Don't move, pleeease don't move."

She eases herself up, then forces herself down again. She yelps in pain.

"Oh God, it's splitting me open."

I step forward. "Emma, honey, don't hurt yourself."

"It hurts good," she tells me, with a strained smile and what's supposed to be a reassuring nod.

If this is what she wants...

"Help me," she whispers to The Spartan. Gripping her hard, he pulls her down. Another few inches disappear -- past halfway, probably 5 inches to go.

Emma's weeping now; her mascara's running, and it only serves to make her look even more like a whore.

"Fuck, how does such a slut stay so tight?"

Emma wriggles on the massive pole, then bounces on it -- emitting a little yelp on each downward stroke. The Spartan times his upthrusts to meet her, and bit by bit, reaches further and further into her.

She surprises me by leaning forward and kissing the brute, passionately, their tongues swirling. 

"I fucking love you," she tells him.

I believe her. And it hurts.

"You're mine now, bitch."

"Fuck this," The Mobster grunts, obviously fed up of hanging around. He grabs a bottle of lotion or something from Emma's dressing table and climbs on the bed behind her. Then he points the bottle at her arsehole and squeezes whatever the liquid is all over her behind.

"Oh God, I can't take both of you." Emma seems genuinely worried.

"You can, you will, and you'll fucking love it." The Mobster presses his dick against her sphincter and lunges forward, burying himself inside her. 

Emma screams, but her mouth is immediately filled by The Caveman, who has appeared in front of her and starts fucking her mouth in pace with The Mobster fucking her arse.

The three bears have to hold her in place as she struggles against them.

"Guys..." I interject.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 10



Emma looks over to me and, with a steel rod plunging in and out of her mouth, somehow still manages to shake her head.

"What?" The Mobster asks, aggressively.

I think quickly.

"How about you all hold yourselves inside her as deep as you can? Let me get a photo of her airtight, with 35 inches of black cock inside her?" I suggest.

"Alright," The Spartan grunts, and Emma's beautiful eyes water again as the three black cocks disappear into her.

I hurriedly take some photos from a few different angles, being sure to get one of her two holes stretched around the massive man meat. "Ok guys, thanks."

All at once, they start fucking her, and she cums and cums -- hitting that sweet spot again where it seems to continue forever.

At least until...

"It's been ages since I got some white arse," The Spartan says. "Move."

The Caveman pulls out of Emma's throat, leaving her gasping; The Mobster eases out of her butt, leaving her gaping.

The Spartan lifts Emma off him. She spins and starts to lower her bottom to his pole, but he stops her.

"Let me sit on it," Emma pleads.

"Nuh-uh. I'm gonna do the work and make damn sure you take it all."

The Caveman swiftly takes The Spartan's place and pulls Emma on top of him, sinking his dick into her pierced pussy.

"Ooh, yeah," Emma purrs.

"You can't be serious?" The Boyfriend interjects.

"You still don't think I'm serious?" Emma laughs.

The Mobster lifts The Boyfriend to his feet and escorts him to the door. "C'mon, you're leaving." Then signals to me: "You too, cuck."

"No, my fiance stays. I want him to see this," Emma says. "You can do what you like to me, but leave him alone. You're only here because he allows it."

God, I love her.

The Spartan moves in behind her and spanks her bum hard; and again. Emma mews appreciatively, then reaches back and spreads her butt cheeks. "Please fuck my arse."

She's taken my fist up her arse, but I never went as deep as he'll be able to go. And I was able to point my fingers to make entry easier -- the head of his dick is like a tennis ball.

"Nice tramp stamp, bitch," he murmurs. "We'll have to get you some more ink, though."

"Anything you want," Emma says. "Just please give me your dick."

Emma freezes as The Spartan prods at her -- but the first couple of attempts, he can't get inside. He grasps his shaft near the head, and presses... and it pops in, elliciting a cry from Emma.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God," Emma chants as the python pushes slowly into her. And he just keeps going! 6 inches left. 5. 4. Holy fuck.

Emma screams as he slams the last few inches up her butt, bottoming out.

"Fourteen inches of black cock up your arse. You like that?"

"Don't move or I'll cum," she warns.

The Spartan pulls back a couple of inches, and Emma orgasms even before he's pushed back inside her. The Caveman humps into her from below, and again her cumming seems to be continuous.

"You want your boy there to take a photo of my cock in your butt?"

Emma shakes her head. "I wanna be airtight again first."

The Mobster grins and places his cock at her lips. Emma greedily licks at it with her pierced tongue, and swallows as The Mobster thrusts forward into her throat.

"I'm pretty close," he warns, and Emma bobs her head even more enthusiastically.

I snap some photos; then switch to video as The Spartan begins sawing in and out of Emma's impossibly-stretched arsehole.

The Mobster pulls out of her mouth and ejaculates a huge, thick load all over her face; covering her in his sperm. She licks desperately, trying to taste as much as she can; then uses her fingers to scoop it into her mouth.

The Mobster mawls at her tits, yanking at the piercings until she screams. "Get a boob job," he orders, and slaps Emma around the face. "What are you going to do?"

"Get a boob job," Emma pants.

"Good girl. At least an F cup, bitch," and he slaps her again, before ramming his somehow-still-hard cock back down her throat.

The Spartan speaks up as he slams into Emma's naughtiest hole: "Yeah, bitch. Gonna get big titties for us? Gonna get our ink all over ya? You're our black cock slut, ain't ya?"

She desperately tries to nod whilst The Mobster's pole fucks her face.

The Spartan slaps her butt three quick times, then grunts and buries himself to his full depth as he unloads inside Emma's arsehole. Emma's orgasm, that never completely seemed to fade, reaches a new height, her limbs thrashing about as her body and head are nailed in place.

The Spartan withdraws from Emma's poor arse, leaving it gaping wide and dribbling his cum. He turns to me:

"We're gonna be at this all night. You should leave us to it." He's surprisingly polite -- but it's also obviously not a question.

I look to Emma. "Honey, do you want me to leave you with them?"

The Mobster drops his dick from her mouth long enough for her to answer.

"God yes. I'll fly out with you tomorrow, but tonight..." 

The Caveman, still fucking her from below, bites one of her nipples. Her little yelp morphs into a needy moan.

"...tonight, they can do whatever they want with me. I'm their black cock slut."

I nod and smile, blow her a kiss, and shut the door behind me on my way out.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 11



HALF TERM, DAY 7, FRIDAY

I awake with a sore back, and to the noise of several people clumping down the stairs.

I roll off the coach I was dozing on and stagger into the hallway, where the three black guys from last night are escorting Emma to the door. All she's wearing is a knee-length leather coat, and the socks and mary-jane heels from last night.

I notice it's light out -- it's 8am.

"Have you been fucking all night?" I ask.

Emma looks spent, and is tottering unsteadily on her stilettos.

"Best night of my life. We're going to see Leah to get me a tattoo," she croaks.

"What? Hold on..."

"We'll wait by the car," The Spartan grumbles, and leads the others outside. I take Emma's arm, and help her sit on the stairs.

"What's this about a tattoo?" I query.

Emma smiles weakly. "Their girls get 'BCS' tattoos so the rest of the gang know they can fuck her anytime they want."

'Their' girls?! I'm stunned. "Are you serious?"

"Anytime, anywhere. If a black guy can tell you what the letters stand for, you're his."

"And what do they stand for?"

Emma giggles. "Black Cock Slut."

Speechless. I'm absolutely speechless.

"Then we were going to see this surgeon they know about implants."

Who is this girl and what has she done with Emma?

"Are you joking? You were going to go get this now?" I ask.

She shrugs, suddenly serious. "It was better than I ever imagined sex could be. There's no way I can NOT have that again."

"You know how easy it was for you to pick these guys up. You don't need to make it so you can't say no."

I sit on the step next to her, and she sleepily rests her head on my shoulder.

Her voice is barely a whisper: "I kind of want to."

I never saw this coming.

"Honey..." Wow, this is difficult. "If this is what you really want, I'll support you. But we're due to fly out in a few hours, and we haven't even told your parents yet. Why don't you wait until we get back? If you still want to do it, I'll take you myself."

I don't want to, but if that's what she wants... Seems I really will do anything for her.

"Okay."

***

Seeing her parents would have been easier if they were still together, but they split up 20-odd years ago and barely speak. After I got Emma cleaned up (she was so shattered, I had to help her bathe), we only had time to visit one of them. She picked her Dad, who she's always been closer to.

Her father actually took it surprisingly well. He gave me the speech about making sure I looked after her, and I assured him I would -- although I felt a little odd doing so after the events of the last 24 hours. Emma might not even want looking after.

Emma rang her mother while I drove us to the airport, and she spoke to her brother and sister too. I don't think they were too impressed, and her sister was definitely upset she wasn't going to see big sis walk down the aisle, but Emma insisted this was how she wanted it, and that we'd have a party when we got back.

We just made our flight. Emma was asleep before we'd even taken off, and I grabbed a nap too. When we arrived, she had a little more life about her, and we got a taxi to the hotel I booked.

I'd deliberately kept the details a secret, so when she found out I'd booked the honeymoon suite, she was thrilled.

And as we walk in, her jaw drops.

"Oh my God, it's gorgeous!"

It is pretty spectacular. A huge bed. A separate living room. A big balcony with a heart-shaped hot-tub. Another heart-shaped tub in the bathroom. Flatscreen TVs in every room. A walk-in wardrobe-cum-dressing room for her.

Emma runs around like a little kid, exploring everything -- all the little touches that make it that bit more luxurious.

She gives me a massive hug and a kiss.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too," I tell her. "Why don't you have a little lie down before dinner?"

"Won't you join me?" she pouts.

"I've got a couple of things to sort out. I won't be long."

***

And I wasn't long, but Emma was out like a light when I returned. I sat for ages and just watched her sleep. She's impossibly beautiful, cute and sexy.

I'm the luckiest man alive.

She stirs, spots me watching her, and smiles.

"How are you feeling, beautiful?" I ask.

"Much better, thanks. Hungry!" she says, stretching her glorious naked body across the bed.

"Do you want to go down to one of the restaurants, or do you want to get room service?"

"Let's go out, that would be nice," she says.

"Ok. I'll give you some time to get ready." I get up to go, but...

"Wait, I won't take a minute," she says, and skips into her dressing room. "Oh, you unpacked for me," she coos. "You're so sweet."

"All but your wedding outfit," I chuckle.

"Good boy."

She reappears just a couple of moments later looking relaxed but spectacular. She's let her hair loose to flow around her shoulders and hasn't added to her minimal make-up, but she didn't need to. Her little matt-black leather dress is classy yet sexy -- high-necked, sleeveless, with a flared mini-skirt that, when she does a little pirouette for me, lifts to show a tantalising glimpse of bare bottom. And the outfit's finished off with her hot black patent Louboutin high heels.

"Wow!" I breathe.

"You like?" she asks, striking a pose.

"God yes!"

"Mmm, me too. I love wearing leather," she says as she runs her hands down her body, stroking the sexy material. "I'm gonna wear it all the time. Or rubber, or latex. They make me so hot."

"I can't wait to see you go back to teaching wearing latex!"

"Me either," she winks.

"Y'know, I could happily just eat you all night." I take her into my arms and kiss her, hoping it communicates how much love I'm feeling for her.

"That sounds nice. Maybe after I've had some real food," she smiles.

We leave the room and take the elevator. I slide my hand under her dress and find her cooch, bare and damp. I groan.

Emma giggles. "Yes, the dress is all I'm wearing."

Every eye turns to ogle her as we enter the fanciest restaurant on site, and the waiter shows us to a cubicle along the far wall. It's a nice place, with a long bar displaying every drink imaginable, and a four-piece band playing extra cheesy covers of already cheesy love songs.

I order us a bottle of champagne, and the waiter leaves us to ponder the menu.

But only one thing has been on my mind all day, and I can't wait any longer to talk about it:

"So, you enjoyed yourself last night then?"

Emma blushes. "I'm sorry about this morning. I guess I kind of... lose myself sometimes."

"The slut takes over?"

She smiles, still embarrassed. "Yeah."

"What happened after I got sent out?"

Emma frowns. "Hey, it wasn't like that. If you didn't want to go, I'd have told them to let you stay."

"If you had to make a choice, at that second, you'd have chosen their dicks." I'm not accusing her so much as stating a fact.

Her grey-blue eyes well up. "I'm sorry. If you don't want me to do anything like that again..."

I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. "Emma, it's ok. I said I didn't mind if you did these things as long as you told me about them. That's all I was asking."

She stares at me with disbelief. "I was ready to give myself to them as their sex slave! You're ok with that?!"

"You're my beautiful, dirty, cute, filthy little slut, and I love you with all my heart. I'm here to marry you!"

She smiles and relaxes, dabbing at her tears with her napkin. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"So are you." I kiss her hand, and her engagement ring. "So, what happened?"

"They decided they were going to knock me up. So they took turns cumming inside me."

"All night?!"

"Pretty much. When one of them needed to get hard again, they'd use my mouth; or if my pussy was taken, they'd fuck my arse... but they always came in my little cooch."

"How many times?!"

"I remember them celebrating at the tenth load, but there were definitely more after that. It was literally pouring out of me at one point!"

"No wonder you were wiped out."

"Yeah. I wasn't really doing much by the end; I just laid there and took it! It's a good job you must have made me pregnant already, or I'd definitely be by now!"

"We don't know for sure I made you pregnant," I warn.

"I do," she says, smiling.

"Maybe it was one of the... what, five?... other guys you've fucked this week."

And as I say that, the waiter returns with our champagne. Emma blushes, but smiles coyly with it. In fact, the waiter seems more uncomfortable about it than her.

He hurriedly pours our champagne, takes our order, and disappears back to the kitchen -- probably to tell his workmates what he just overheard.

"Were you really going to get that tattoo?" I ask Emma.

She shifts awkwardly. "Yeah."

I shake my head in disbelief. "Wow. Do you still want to now?"

She pauses, biting her lip as she thinks, seemingly unsure how to answer. "Part of me does. The idea that anyone could claim me, anytime, anywhere... it scares me, but excites me too."

I nod. I know what she means.

"You said you'd take me to get the tattoo when we get back. Did you mean it?" she asks.

"If you really want it. But I think it would be better if you didn't. You'd have no control."

"I could get it somewhere where I could hide it. Like on my stomach, so you could only see it if I wore a short crop top or something?"

"I guess. But then you're only choosing when, not who. We could go on a trip to the beach and you might find yourself in the middle of a gangbang of people who could be dangerous. What if they were to try to make you do something you didn't want to do?"

She shrugs.

An awkward silence.

But there's more I need to know.

"What about the breast implants?"

Emma sighs. "You know I've sometimes wished they were bigger. But I was only going to do it because they wanted me to."

"That's worse. The thought of you giving yourself over so completely that you'd permanently change your body... I'm not sure about that."

"I know. But when I let go like that... it's like, all I can think about is cumming. Nothing else matters. And whoever's going to give me the next orgasm is the most important person in the world. I'd literally do anything for them."

"That scares me. Doesn't it scare you?" I ask.

"Yeah, of course. But I love it too."

Another awkward silence.

"If this is a problem, maybe we shouldn't get married tomorrow," Emma suggests, again blinking away tears.

Once more, I take her hand. "I didn't say it was a problem. It's just... I'm scared you'll leave me."

She actually gasps. "Never. I said I'd marry you because I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and I meant it."

"But you said yourself that whoever you're fucking is the 'most important person in the world' and that you'd do anything for them..."

"But they couldn't keep fucking me forever! We'd have to stop at some point. Then I'd come to my senses, and come home to you." She smiles a smile so full of love that I feel like crying too. "Then I'd tell you all about my slutty adventures, and we'd make love 'til neither of us can move."

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too."

With great timing, our food arrives just as the heavy atmosphere has lifted.

***

During our meal, we chatted like old times -- laughing, joking, reminiscing... it was beautiful.

"Do you want dessert here, or in our room?" Emma asks with a raised eyebrow and a flirty smile.

"Actually, I've got a plan," I tell her.

"Oh, really," she looks at me suspiciously. "Would it involve me getting royally fucked by more than one stranger, by any chance?"

I grin. "That's up to you. As it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, I've got myself another room for tonight. So if you wanted someone else to keep you company on your last night of freedom..."

"You're so naughty," she playfully scolds.

"I would like you to do one thing for me though."

"Anything."

"Walk down the aisle tomorrow with at least one other man's cum in your pussy."

"Oh my God," she laughs.

"I'd love it if you fucked him in your wedding dress. And, maybe, if you fucked more than one guy, you could bring them along as witnesses."

She's still giggling. "You're kidding, right?"

"It would save me having to find a couple of people off the street. I've left details of the service in our room; a car will pick you up (and anyone else you want to bring) at 1pm."

"Sweetie, you're seriously perverted. You know that, right?"

"It's one of the things you love about me."

She leans across and gives me the tenderest of kisses. "One of many."

"So, shall I leave you to it? I know that look -- you've already got your eye on someone, haven't you?"

She smiles coyly. "May-be."

I scan the room -- most of the tables are taken by couples. There are one or two families, but...

"Ah-ha," I say. "You're gonna fuck the band, aren't you?"

Emma smiles. "If they'll have me."

I look over at the four-piece. They look pretty young -- I'd guess late-teens. The lead singer/guitarist's got that typical heart-throb look about him, and the arrogance to go with it. The keyboardist is a wiry black guy; and the drummer has that mad glint in his eye that all drummers seem to have. The bassist, however, is a hot little brunette with big tits and a tiny dress -- the sort of girl I would have been ogling all night if I weren't infatuated with the girl sat across from me.

"Emma, there's no chance on God's green Earth that they won't want you. I'm hard just from looking at you."

"Thanks." She still blushes when she gets compliments -- it's so cute. "Do you want to wait with me until they finish?"

"Yes, but I won't. I'll go back to my room and let you work your magic."

"You know, I haven't had you in any of my holes today. That doesn't seem right," she says with a wicked grin.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"I've always kind of wanted to have sex in a public toilet." She glances over to the restrooms in the opposite corner of the restaurant and raises an eyebrow suggestively.

Without another word, I take her hand and lead her into the Gents.

I hesitate as we stumble across an old geezer washing his hands, but Emma just giggles and tugs me into one of the cubicles; giving the stunned bloke a cheeky wave as I shut the door behind us.

I listen for the main door to close, which it does, so I know we're alone. We'll still need to be quiet though.

Obviously, there's very little space, but Emma's already bent over the toilet bowl and hoisted her skirt up over her bum.

"I'm wet and ready for you, lover," she purrs.

"You couldn't have picked the disabled one so we had a bit more space?" I ask as I unzip my fly.

"This is all part of it," she says, and spreads her pussy lips with her fingers. "C'mon, do me hard and fast."

I pause a second to enjoy the view. I love her Louboutin heels and the way they make her legs even longer; I love her perfect little bottom; and I love the way she arches her back, inviting and submitting to me.

She looks back over her shoulder at me and pouts. "Please?"

I tease us by sliding my solid pole between her lips; then slide into her warm, wet pussy.

Honey, I'm home.

She moans and rotates her hips on my pole, before settling on a position and spreading her legs as wide as the cubicle walls will let her.

"Fuck me," she breathes.

Still conscious of not wanting to make too much noise, I move in and out quite carefully... 

Then freeze balls-deep as the main door opens and two guys bundle in, arguing about the merits of a Windows phone over an iphone.

Emma glares back at me as if to say "why did you stop?"

I point to where the guys must be -- at the urinals just outside our cubicle.

"I don't care. Just fuck me," she whispers, far too loudly -- the guys must have heard, because they're conversation halts.

Impatient, Emma begins slamming her pussy back onto my dick, the slap of our bodies meeting reverberating unbelievably loudly in the previously-quiet restroom.

I can hear the guys whispering and laughing.

Emma stands, removing my cock from her. We change position, her stilettos clattering against the tile floor as she sits me down on the loo, before lowering herself onto my lap, facing away from me.

She wastes no time and immediately bounces up and down at quite a pace. I reach up and grab her breasts through the leather dress, loving the feel of them in my hands, and Emma moans lustily.

The guys finish up and leave, still laughing.

The combination of the excitement of the situation, and Emma's glorious cunt, has me close already. I let one of my hands fall to her pierced clit, and I rub it in time with her movements.

"That's it, yeah," she groans.

I hump up into her, all efforts at trying to stay quiet forgotten.

"Where do you want my cum?" I ask.

"Inside me, cum inside me," she pants; her bouncing and her breathing becoming more and more ragged.

I grunt, and buck into her as I fire my load deep up her love tunnel; and my spunk triggers her orgasm. She squeaks and squirts and shakes on top of me as her cunt milks me for all I'm worth. As her high heels clack and scrape on the floor, it occurs to me that this will be our last time before we're married; and I hold her tight to me until her shuddering fades to the tiny little aftershocks that I find so adorable.

"I love the feeling of a man cumming inside me," she whispers; and she kisses me, our tongues swirling and dancing like they're meant to be together.

Reluctantly, she separates from me, and we tidy ourselves up. I open the cubicle door to give us a little more room, and a geeky teen strolls in. He's like a rabbit in the headlights for a second, then puts his head down and marches to the urinal.

Emma gives me a little wink and totters out after him.

"Can I give you a hand? I've always wanted to," she asks.

"What?" the teen stammers, putting his hands over his crotch, not surprisingly confused by the offer.

Emma sidles up behind him, presses her lithe body into his back, and puts her hands over his.

"Let me aim for you."

He searches around nervously, not unreasonably assuming this is some kind of trick. The poor lad has probably never even spoken to a girl as unbelievably hot as Emma. 

He glances at me, and I nod encouragingly. I want to see where this is going.

"You'd make me really happy," Emma purrs. "Would you like to make me happy?"

Oh, she's good.

The teens hands drop, and Emma takes hold of what looks to be a fairly average penis. It's soft, but stiffening.

"Shall we move a little closer?" Emma suggests, and they shuffle up to the urinal. "Let me know when you're... oh!"

A stream of piss gushes from the teen, and Emma giggles as she guides the flow into the bowl.

She plays with it, chasing the little urinal cakes around the drain, until the torrent reduces to a dribble, then to a few drops.

"That was amazing, thank you," Emma says, as she shakes him dry. Instead of letting him go, or putting his dick away, she keeps hold and slowly starts stroking.

The teen clearly doesn't have a clue how to react.

"How old are you, sweetie?" she asks the boy.

"Sixteen," he just about manages to say.

"That's legal here too, right?" Emma asks me.

I nod.

She smiles wickedly and drops to her knees in front of him. "Sweetie, have you ever had a blowjob?"

He shakes his head.

"Mmm, then please can I be your first?" She stares up into his eyes imploringly as her pierced tongue snakes out and tickles the tip of his rapidly-hardening dick. I'd have thought there'd have been a left-over taste of pee, but she doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed.

I can't understand the teen's stammering, but Emma obviously takes it as a yes because she engulfs his cock with her mouth in one gulp.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 11



The door opens and a middle-aged man enters, swears when he sees Emma with a stranger's dick down her throat, and hastily exits again. If he'd stayed, Emma would probably have pleasured him too. He's gonna regret that later.

Emma bobs her head a few times, then licks up and down his whole 6 inches. 

"Is this ok?" she asks. 

The teen nods eagerly. "Fuck yeah." Oh, and he's found his voice.

Emma smiles and resumes fucking her face on his pole, never breaking eye contact with him.

She slows, then holds him balls-deep; her nose pressed into his pubic hair. She grasps his butt and pulls him into her, getting us much of him down her throat as she can.

"I'm gonna cum," he mutters.

Emma pulls back and wanks his cock. "You want to cum in my mouth?"

Her lips open wide and she sticks her pierced tongue out, almost begging for his sperm.

"Oh fuck," he groans, and he spurts like a fountain. His cum covers Emma -- all over her face, in her hair, in her mouth, some dripping down onto her leather-clad chest...

With a smile, Emma sucks and licks his dick clean, then tucks it back into his pants.

"You'd better run along, sweetie."

He nods and rushes to the door, pausing long enough only for a hurried "Thanks".

Emma giggles as she uses her fingers to wipe as much cum as possible into her mouth.

"You just made his day. His week. His life!" I tell her.

"It was fun. He reminded me of a boy in my class."

"Something tells me that boy will be getting some special attention when you get back to work."

Emma grins, but playfully scolds me, "I won't be messing around with my students, thank you."

She cleans herself up as the middle-aged man returns, and dips straight into the cubicle we fucked in just minutes ago.

Emma looks tempted, but I shake my head, and she grins naughtily as I hold the door open for her.

"I'm going upstairs now, to leave you to it," I tell her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she says, and I kiss her, loving and lingering. 

We exit and walk separately across the restaurant. Emma sashays to the table right in front of the band, and sits facing them. I laugh as she crosses her long legs, and the eyes of all four band members go straight to her lovely pins. She's gonna go all Basic Instinct on them, and I love it.

I can't believe she thought she might have difficulty pulling them. Her modesty is sweet, but ridiculous.

***

I can't sleep. I'm too excited -- partly about the wedding tomorrow, and partly about whatever Emma's up to with the band. I absentmindedly stroke my stiff member.

They must have finished working some time ago, and it can't have taken long for Emma to work her magic. I wonder if the female bass player will join in...

My phone goes mental, beeping with a series of incoming messages.

They're pictures from Emma.

Wow. The first is of Emma on the stage, still in the leather dress but with it pulled up around her waist, with the three guys from the band around her -- and each of them with a finger stuffed up her pussy. The arrogant-shit guitarist is holding a fag to Emma's mouth... wait, is that a cigarette or a spliff?

She's always been dead against drugs. This could be huge news.

Hold on -- who took the picture? Was it...?

The next photo answers my question. It's Emma swapping saliva with the brunette bassist. They look amazing with their tongues entwined like that.

I'm now beating my cock in anticipation of what's next.

Oh my fucking God. It's Emma standing alone at the front of the stage, naked but for her Louboutin heels, with a microphone in her cunt and two drumsticks protruding from her arsehole. Her eyes do look pretty spaced out, which would suggest it was pot she's been smoking.

I'm so tempted to go down there right now. My hand is a blur on my dick.

The last pic is unbelievable.

Emma's sat on the drummer, with his dick splitting her arse. The bassist is sat on Emma's face, and I can just make out Emma's tongue pushing between her folds as the brunette viciously twists her pierced nipples. The guitarist, meanwhile, is forcing a second maraca into Emma's pussy -- the handle of the other is already sticking out of her.

I cum, ejaculating my sticky load all over my chest and hand.

Oh well, I wasn't going to sleep anyway. Time for a shower. Maybe I'll take my phone with me...



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 12



HALF TERM, DAY 8, SATURDAY -- WEDDING DAY

I'll admit I was slightly concerned.

After Emma spent the night (presumably) getting gang-fucked by the hotel four-piece band, I worried that she might have got carried away and forgotten that she was being picked up at 1pm.

I should have known better.

She sent me a message in the morning to set my mind at rest -- she was already in her dress, and was working on my special request for our big day... she was getting fucked. I wanted her pussy full of other men's cum when she walked down the aisle.

We'd agreed to dress traditionally, so I'm suited and booted; but her gown was a bit of a mystery. I'd resisted peeking, but Emma had admitted how lucky she was to find her dream dress, in her size, at such short notice.

So the anticipation was killing me as I waited on the beach for her. And as all brides seem to be, she was a little late. Which was a little embarrassing because, it being a public beach, a few people had decided to hang around and watch.

Finally, the limo parks on the road some 50 metres away.

But nobody's getting out of it.

Thirty seconds. A minute. This is getting a little...

The driver's door swings open. The chauffeur exits and opens the rear door, and the band members (dressed in the same clothes as last night, I notice) bundle out.

The brunette bass player appears to be acting bridesmaid -- she's got some flowers from somewhere.

Another pause as they encircle the open door, acting as a block. I catch glimpses of Emma getting out of the car; and then, as though rehearsed, everyone separates...

Breath-taking doesn't do her justice. Somebody needs to invent some new words.

Her blonde hair is curled and styled on top of her head, a few strands allowed free to frame her beautiful face. Natural make-up accentuates her incredible high cheekbones and soulful grey-blue eyes; her lips somehow look even more kissable than usual. It's all I can do not to run across the beach to her.

Her dress is magnificent. It's an ivory floor-length strapless gown, with silver detailing cinching in her tiny waist and flowing down the wide skirt. Her breasts are pushed up by a sweetheart neckline into an enticing cleavage, but not so much that it looks trashy. Her shoulders and arms are tanned and bare, but for a silver bracelet that shines in the early-afternoon sun.

Then she smiles at me. I love this woman so much. I'm trembling as she takes the arm of the guitarist and begins her journey across the sand, the bassist carrying the dress's train.

Emma locks eyes with me, and we stare into each other until she's stood next to me, in front of the registrar.

"Sorry about the hold up," the guitarist whispers. "We were deciding who was going to give her away... by who could cum on her boots first!"

Emma giggles and slaps the guitarist on the arm. He backs away, joining the others in a small audience. The drummer is filming on our video camera.

"How many loads have you got inside you?" I whisper.

"From this morning, four," she whispers back with a sly smile. "Good job I'm wearing a thong or it'd be pouring out of me!"

I can barely focus on what the registrar is saying -- I'm entranced by the angel next to me; the gorgeous vision; the perfect person who has somehow fallen for me like I've fallen for her.

I hear enough to say the right things in the right places, and listen carefully when it's Emma's turn. A tiny part of me had doubts, and wondered if she might change her mind when it came to...

"I do," Emma says.

My heart leaps. It's actually happening. We slide rings onto each other's fingers.

My dream has become reality.

We kiss...

***

Everything since then has been a bit of a blur. We got congratulated by more people than I thought were there, and had our photos taken by most of them. We travelled back to the hotel (which wasn't far) and had a lovely meal with the band, though I couldn't tell you what I ate.

It feels like Emma and I have spent the whole time gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

Reality comes crashing back when the band's keyboardist, a wiry black guy, murmurs:

"She promised I could be the first in her married cunt."

Emma looks as stunned as I am; then realisation, followed quickly by shock, crosses her face.

"Oh my God, I did," she gasps, and grabs my hand. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I was... er... I was high."

I knew that was a spliff in that photo. "And horny," I remind her.

She stares at me, trying to read my face. "You're not mad?"

Wow, I'm actually not. "No. Honestly, I'm a little hurt..." Emma's grey-blues fill with love and concern for me. "...but..." I move her hand to my groin -- and my hard dick.

Again, she's surprised. "You want this?" she asks cautiously.

"There's more," the keyboardist interrupts. "Tell him."

Emma seems a little embarrassed, but she can't hide a slight smile. "I said I'd have five cocks in my pussy before my husband."

Oh wow.

The guitarist leans over. "You said ten."

"No, you said ten," Emma argues, grinning.

"And you agreed," the keyboardist protests. "And you said one of them would be my brother."

"I admit I said one of them could be your brother, but I only said five." She leans in for a kiss, and squeezes my cock through my suit trousers. "Are you really ok with this?" she whispers to me.

"It'll make one hell of a wedding video," I grin, and kiss her back.

***

The six of us bundle into our honeymoon suite, and Emma leads us straight into the bedroom. The drummer already has the video camera whirring again.

I pull through some chairs from the living room and arrange them around the bed. The bassist, guitarist and I sit down; the drummer sets the camera on a tripod but keeps his eye glued to the viewfinder; the keyboardist lingers expectantly. None of us can tear our gaze from Emma, who holds court in front of us.

She sashays to me. "Sweetie, my darling husband, will you unzip my dress so I can get fucked please?"

"I wanted to fuck you in your dress," the keyboardist complains.

"You already have," she purrs, as I slowly pull the zipper down. She holds the gown closed, so as not to reveal what's underneath. Yet. "And like I told you, I need to keep it clean for the party back home."

She moves to the little brunette bassist and makes out with her, sucking her tongue into her mouth.

Breathlessly, Emma pulls back. "You are such a good kisser." She unclasps the bracelet from her wrist and gives it to the bassist. "That was my 'something borrowed'," she explains, then sticks her tongue out to show the baby-blue piercing in it, "and my 'something blue'."

She returns to the centre of the semi-circle. "The dress was used, so is 'something old'," she sings, "and can you guess what's my 'something new'?"

The anticipation in the room is palpable.

The wedding dress drops.

The heat in the room sky-rockets. She looks sensational.

Although the cleavage displayed by her dress was classy and relatively restrained, it was nothing compared to the twin mounds of flesh now on view -- a white mesh and lace corset, with ruffles around the breasts and hips, pushes her tits up into a delectable shelf, the colouring of her areolas just peaking over the top. 

Attached to the bottom of the tightly-tied corset are suspenders, which hold up white stockings, underneath white patent leather thigh-high boots. Barely covering her mound is a teeny-tiny white latex thong.

Daintily she steps out of the pool the dress had made around her feet, revealing the 5.5-inch stiletto heels on her boots; then she sits back on the bed and spreads her legs wide.

"Are you sure you don't want to fuck me first?" she asks, staring into my eyes.

"No," I answer.

She grins wickedly. "Or are you going to let this man you've only just met stick his nasty black cock in your sweet little wife's tight pussy?"

I groan. She beckons the keyboardist to her, opens his fly, and pulls out his already-hard 9-inch cock; then she yanks her latex thong to the side, unveiling her pierced and glistening slit.

"I'm so wet, I don't think this..." she strokes his solid member, "...needs any lubrication. So I'll just have to suck it 'cos I love it."

In one movement, she engulfs his whole cock, squashing her cute nose into his pubes. She holds it there for maybe ten seconds, then bobs her head eagerly on his pole.

"Oh fuck! You're the best cock-sucker I've ever had, bitch. Fucking incredible."

She lets his dick fall from her mouth. "Oh yeah? What else am I best at?" she teasingly asks, before resuming her attack on his steel pipe.

"Arsefucking. No-one's ever taken my dick up their arse like you can."

"Yeah? You like my slutty arsehole?" she breathes, sucking one of his balls into her mouth.

"Yeah, your fiiine. Only... your titties could be bigger."

She flashes me a quick look as if to say 'I told you so'. I just grin and shake my head.

"Are you ready, lover?" Emma purrs. I'm not sure if she's talking to the keyboardist or me, but she lies back on the bed, legs spread wide, the pointy-toes of her boots like an east and west and he's the south pole.

"Show me that wedding ring, bitch," he growls.

Emma daintily uses her left hand to spread her pussy lips as he prods against her entrance.

"Please consumate my wedding," she pouts. 

He grins and teases her; holding the head against her inner labia but not going further.

"Oh God, please. Please give it to me. Please give me your big fat cock."

"You can't wait to cheat on your husband, can you? It's only been a few hours and you're already begging for someone else's dick."

She opens her mouth to answer, but her face contorts with a delicious mix of pleasure and pain as the bulbous head of his prick pushes into her.

"Oooh, that feels so good!" she coos.

Three hard slams into her, and he's balls deep in my wife. The drummer moves in for a close-up of the black rod stretching her white pussy.

"Oh yeah, get a good shot of that. The first cock in me since I got married, with my husband watching from a few feet away. What do you think of this as a wedding video?" she winks at me.

I guess the keyboardist can resist no longer, because he begins hammering into Emma with quite some force. Her eyes widen, and she stares into my soul as she mouths the words 'I love you'; then throws her head back as the keyboardist picks up the pace.

"Yes! Fuck me. Fuck me!" she cries. "I love your cock!"

"Is it better than your husband's?"

"Yes, oh God, yes!"

"Tell him."

"Sweetie, his cock is so much better than yours. I love it. I'm a black cock slut!"

He stops suddenly with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Tell the camera."

The drummer swings in close, and Emma stares into the lens -- I can see the lust has taken over.

"I love his cock. I'm in love with his cock. His big black cock." She licks her lips. "I'm a black cock slut."

Then again, louder and prouder: "I'm a married black cock slut!" and, as a reward, the keyboardist lifts her legs, squashing her boot-covered knees against her chest, and goes to town on her.

"Yes! Make me cum! Be the first to make my married cunt cum!"

The keyboardist's grunts are in rhythm with Emma's little yelps -- and the rising pitch means she's getting close...

"I'm cumming!" she cries -- her back arches, her limbs quiver, and her pussy squirts her ejaculate all over the keyboardist as he eases but continues fucking her. Through lidded eyes, she gazes at me and smiles, the cute little aftershocks rippling around her body.

She may love his cock, but her orgasm doesn't continue on like I've seen with other big dicks these past few days.

"I fucking love a squirter," the guitarist next to me mutters. I notice for the first time that his cock is in his hand, and it's a decent size -- similar to mine in length, but slightly thinner. He's obviously ready for his turn, but his mate isn't done yet.

Emma's cries morph to long moans. "I needed that so bad."

The keyboardist takes one of her stiletto heels into his mouth, and licks and sucks on it.

"You like my boots?" Emma pants. "You like that I was dressed like a slut under my wedding dress?"

"Fuck yeah I do."

"You like that you knew the whole time, and my husband had no idea?"

"Fucking bitch slut!"

"So fuck me like it," she implores him. "Fuck me harder!"

He roars, and thuds into her with all his might.

"Gonna cum," he groans.

"In my mouth! Let me taste it!"

He pulls out and Emma slides urgently off the bed and onto her knees in front of him -- just in time, as he erupts and fires his load into her open and willing mouth. She takes his cockhead back between her lips, not wanting to miss a drop, and sucks him clean.

She takes great pleasure in showing all of us (and especially the camera) the pool of spunk covering the 'something blue' piercing in her tongue, before swallowing it down with relish.

"Mmm, delicious. Thank you." She stands to face away from us, bends at the waist, and spreads her legs -- her swollen clam gaping. She wiggles her perfect little bum in the air. "Who's next in my pretty married pussy?"

The guitarist next to me stands, but the drummer glares at him and he sits back down.

Handing the camera to the bassist (who takes up filming duties), the drummer moves up behind Emma and tenderly caresses her bottom.

I hear her whisper: "I was hoping it would be you."

He gets on his knees and showers her pussy and butt with little kisses until Emma's mewling softly, then slides a finger into her and tickles her lips with his tongue.

"You're sooo good at that," she breathes. "But I need your cock inside me."

"Lie on your back," he tells her, and she does; spreading her legs and then her pussy for him. He struggles to remove his jeans over the tent in them, but releases his 8-inch-and-wide cock.

He climbs carefully on top of her, and Emma aims his prick at her hole. He pushes smoothly inside, all the way until he's balls deep. He holds still and they make out, smooching as he rocks slowly into her, taking his time.

As he seemed so wild on stage, this is more worrying than him fucking the hell out of her. The drummer is really gentle and loving, whispering things in her ear that I can't hear. He seems properly enamoured, and she seems to be getting pulled along with it.

She giggles at something he says and whispers back in his ear -- he looks at her with surprise, and she gives him her filthiest cheeky grin -- and he starts to thrust into her harder.

She moans and stares intently into his eyes. There's no playing for the camera, or me, this time. This all about the two of them and, although my dick is still hard, jealousy is rearing it's ugly head from where I'd buried it.

Fortunately (in a way), whatever she whispered to him has got him racing to a climax. Emma's rubbing her pierced clit as the drummer pounds into her ever faster. Her spare hand pulls his head to her, and they kiss...

He shoves himself deep into her and orgasms, which triggers Emma to cum again and squirt powerfully all over the second lover she's had since our wedding. 

They keep kissing as her body shakes, and continue even after her vibrations have subsided.

The guitarist next to me stands and speaks up: "Hey dude, time's up."

The drummer resumes his movements -- his dick still hard and inside her. "I'm not done."

Emma stops him. "Time to give someone else a go," she softly tells him.

He whispers in her ear, kissing her, persistent. Emma smiles but, reluctantly, pushes him out of her. She gives him one last, loving kiss, then he leaves the room without looking back.

Emma glances over to me, looking a little guilty.

It's a good job we're flying out tomorrow, or I think I'd have to watch out for that guy.

The guitarist, his cock still free and hard, gives Emma's bare butt a squeeze and leads her out of the bedroom. The keyboardist, the bassist (still filming) and I follow, and find them going out on to the balcony.

The bassist follows them into the early evening air with a little grin. The keyboardist and I watch from the doorway as the guitarist bends Emma over the railing and presses his pipe into her pierced pussy.

Wasting no time, he begins pounding into her. It's nearly dark, but the hotel is lit up so that anyone looking in their direction would surely see what was going on. 

Emma bites her lip, trying to keep quiet, but she can't help a little grunt with each thrust.

The bassist grabs a chair and perches on the seat, spreading her legs to reveal she isn't wearing any underwear. Eyes glued to the video camera's viewfinder, she starts playing with herself.

Emma notices. "Stop," she tells the guitarist, but he keeps going. "I said stop!"

Emma pushes him away, frowning. I hadn't noticed it before, but there's definitely a little undercurrent of something there. I wonder what he did to get on Emma's bad side?

Emma gets on all fours in front of the little brunette bassist, and purrs, "Let me help with that."

The bassist smiles as Emma buries her face in the petite girl's crotch. The guitarist grins, kneels behind her, and sinks his cock back into her dripping cooch.

Emma moans into the mound in front of her as the guitarist pistons in and out of her cunt. She alternates between lapping at the folds, then sucking on the clit, of the stacked teenager.

The guitarist has hold of Emma by the hips as he hammers away, and looks like he's getting close. Suddenly, he pulls out of her pussy and, with one weighty shove, forces his cock into her arsehole.

Emma shrieks, then cries out: "You bastard, not again!"

Two hard jabs and he ejaculates up her naughtiest hole, laughing. Emma tries to pull away, but he's got a firm hold, and doesn't let her go until his balls are empty.

Emma spins around and slaps him across the face. He keeps laughing while Emma shouts: "Get out!", and doesn't stop chuckling as he gathers his clothes and heads out of our suite.

"Honey, are you ok?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she says. "It's just that, before the wedding, when I asked him to cum in my pussy 'cos that's what you'd asked for, her did the same thing. The bloke's an arrogant prick."

Making an effort to calm herself, she turns back to the bassist. "Sorry sweetie, got a little distracted there."

"That's ok. I agree with you. He calls it his 'signature move'."

Emma sinks back to her knees and kisses the brunette's pussy. "When's your brother getting here?" she asks the keyboardist.

"Three, maybe."

"Three AM?!" Emma exclaims. "That's ages!"

"Yeah," the keyboardist shrugs. "He's working."

"You're fucking kidding me. I can't wait that long." Emma fumes. "Where does he work?"

"The Mixer -- a club in town. He's the DJ."

Emma looks to me, and smiles. "Do you fancy going dancing?"

***

The taxi driver had a real treat -- not only had Emma not changed her outfit, so all she was wearing was her ridiculously sexy bridal lingerie, but she was also determined to make the bassist cum before we got to the club.

She succeeded.

The keyboardist got us straight in past the bouncers, but from the hungry look in their eyes, I reckon Emma could have done the same job.

He tells us to wait while he goes to the tell his brother that we're here.

The bassist spots a group of her friends, so leaves our camera with me and disappears.

What to do?

"How about we have our first dance?" Emma suggests.

I smile; she takes my hand and leads me onto the dancefloor, her body swaying to the heavy beat. I pull her to me and she presses her body into mine, draping her arms around my neck, grinding in time with the music.

We both steal glances at the DJ, chatting to the keyboardist. The DJ must be the older brother -- he's certainly bigger, and he looks... meaner.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 12



I hold Emma close and kiss her, sucking on her pierced tongue until we're both breathless.

"I want the brothers to fuck me together," she pants.

I groan and I run my hands down her body, loving the way the corset makes her slim waist even tinier and her beautiful cleavage even bigger.

"That would be so hot -- to have two brothers fucking me at the same time."

I drop a hand to her bare bottom and feel my way beneath a suspender, stroking the soft skin; then I lift her leather-clad leg and she wraps it around me, her high-heel urging me from behind to mash my hard dick into her flat stomach.

She leans close to my ear. "I want both of their black dicks in my pussy at the same time."

We buck into each other. I revel in the feeling of her rubbing her latex-covered crotch on my thigh, and lean in to kiss her again, but she spins out of my grasp and pushes her butt back into me.

My arms wrap around her again as she presses her perfect arse against my trouser tent; I embrace her from behind and paw at her breasts through the corset.

"I want them to cum in my cunt together," she sighs.

I find the bump of her pierced clit through her latex thong, and pinch. She shudders and moans.

"If I'm not allowed in your pussy yet, can I fuck your arse?" I plead.

"God yes."

And, with the worst timing in the world, the keyboardist appears in front of Emma, grinning. "He's taking a quick break. Come on."

Reluctantly, I untangle myself from my wife. She holds my hand, interlocking our fingers, as we follow the keyboardist through the throng, past the stage. We both notice the new guy at the decks, and he looks startlingly familiar.

"Who's that on stage now?" Emma asks the keyboardist, who holds a door open for us.

"That's my younger brother," the keyboardist says as we step outside into a dark, dirty alley. The DJ is casually leant against a wall, smoking. An ugly, filthy tramp is curled up on the floor some 10 feet away; he watches us cautiously, probably worried he's going to get chased off.

"You've got another brother? How come he doesn't get a go too?" Emma winks.

"'Cos he's a fucking pussy," the DJ growls. "A fucking slacker student. I can barely trust him to look after the decks, so let's get to business before he fucks everything up."

He strides to Emma and, without pause, rips the top of her corset open. She seems as surprised as I am as her pierced tits bounce free, the silver rings glinting in what little light there is. Roughly, his big hands grab and knead at her perfect orbs.

"You're right," he mutters to the keyboardist; then sneers into Emma's face: "Your tits are fucking tiny, bitch. Good job the rest of your body is ok."

He spins her around, inspecting her butt, and gives it a sharp slap. Emma squeels. Then another, harder.

"Y'see, this is alright," he says as he rips her thong off and crudely scrunches her butt cheeks. Another slap. "But your tits almost ruin it."

He stuffs two fingers into her wet muff, and she gasps at the mauling.

"Tight enough, I s'pose. And you're fucking ready, aren't you?" he asks.

Emma seems a little taken aback. She's not used to people not going crazy for her.

She makes a grab for his crotch, and her eyes widen. "Please...?"

"Take it out, bitch," he orders.

Obediently, she gets down on her knees and unzips the DJ's jeans -- the bulge unfurls to an 11-inch beast, and it's not fully hard yet.

"Oh wow, it's gorgeous," Emma coos, and she takes the bulging head in her mouth, licking and slurping passionately.

"I'm gonna stretch your cunt so wide, you won't even feel your husband's prick when he finally gets to fuck you."

Movement to my side catches my eye -- the tramp is now watching intently. Who can blame him?

The DJ takes hold of Emma's head and begins fucking her throat like it's a pussy -- he's slamming into her. She gags and tears stream down her cheeks, but Emma puts her hands behind her back, wilfully submitting to the assault.

"You like that, bitch?" he grunts, and spits at her, hitting her on the forehead.

The DJ yanks her off his pole and throws her to the ground. "What makes you think you deserve my dick?"

"Please," she begs, "please fuck my pretty pussy. I'm desperate for your big black dick."

"How desperate?" the DJ asks. I can see the malevolent cogs whirring.

"I'll do anything," Emma assures him, and I believe her.

"Will you fuck that homeless piece of shit?"

We all turn to the tramp, who looks even more surprised than the rest of us.

"Is that what you want?" Emma asks.

"Yeah," the DJ challenges.

Emma stands and totters over to the poor old hobo, whose luck has just changed in the most unbelievable way. Talk about being in the right place at the right time...

He looks almost scared of her as she reaches out and unclasps his trousers, releasing his 6-inch semi. Emma strokes it a couple of times.

"Blow him," the keyboardist tells her.

The tramp is stunned as Emma buries her cute face in his crusty crotch, engulfing his prick in her hot mouth. She bobs her head diligently.

The brothers high-five.

"Rim the fucker," the DJ directs.

Emma stops and stares at him.

"Problem?" the keyboardist asks.

Emma shakes her head; she tugs the tramp's trousers down, pushes his legs wide, and tentatively licks at his foul arsehole with her pierced tongue.

"Oh fuck," the tramp mutters.

"That's it. I want to see your tongue right up there," the DJ instructs.

Emma does as she's told, her lips forming a tight seal around his sphincter as her tongue plunges inside. I can barely believe it.

"What the hell did you marry this bitch for?" the DJ asks me. "Tiny tits, and she'd rather rim a tramp than fuck you? She rich or something?"

I open my mouth to protest, but Emma glares at him. "You can say or do what you like with me, but you respect my husband. I'm only doing this because he lets me."

"Yeah, whatever bitch. Let's get a hurry on. Get on all fours and let the hobo have his way with you."

Emma's patience appears to be wavering, but she does as she's told and even wiggles her butt enticingly as the tramp kneels behind her and hurriedly sinks his cock into her delicious pussy.

They both moan; the tramp goes straight to top gear and hammers into Emma for all he's worth. I don't know how long it's been for him, but he's clearly not going to waste the opportunity.

"Sweetheart, I'm not gonna last long," he warns.

"That's ok, nor am I," she pants between thrusts, and reaches below her to rub her pierced nub.

"Oh God," he grunts, and pushes deep into her as he cums. Again, I'm a little surprised as Emma orgasms too, but it's only a little one -- she barely squirts at all, and still has her wits about her as the DJ kicks off:

"Why d'you let him spunk in you? For fuck's sake. Cuck, clean it out for me."

"No," says Emma as she disengages. I stand still.

The DJ moves aggressively to me. "I need to spell it out for you? Lick. Her. Cunt. Clean."

"Hey!" Emma's mad now. "I said you've gotta show him respect. Now apologise."

He laughs. "Fuck that!"

"Fine," Emma says. "We're leaving."

She straightens her outfit as best she can (difficult with the clasps on the front of her corset broken, and her thong lying in tatters on the floor), takes my hand, and pulls me to the door.

"I don't think so," the DJ thunders, grabbing Emma's arm. "I'm getting my pussy whether you like it or not."

He slams Emma against the wall and pins her against it, pressing his body into her.

He forces her legs open and...

A knife appears at his throat.

The tramp.

"Go!" he urges us.

Emma slips away from the DJ and heads for the door.

The keyboardist blocks our way.

"Let them go or I slice your brother," the tramp threatens. "Don't think I'm joking, I hate this fucker enough to do it anyway."

The keyboardist steps aside and we hurry back into the club; me leading the way, and Emma right behind... wait, where'd she go?!

She reappears with the youngest brother, the student, in tow. "Let's go!" she yells, and we all dash for the main exit.

***

I hug Emma to me in the back of the student's car as we speed away from the club. She has my jacket wrapped around her, but is still shivering.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

She takes my hand and places it between her legs. Her bare pussy is dripping wet.

"Feel that?" she asks. "That's at the idea of getting raped. What's wrong with me?"

Her eyes fill with tears as she curls up into me. I hold her close and stroke her hair, comforting her.

"There's nothing wrong with you," I tell her. "You wanted to fuck him -- that was obvious from the second you saw him."

"No I didn't..."

"Yes you did," I cut her off. "I know you did. You fucked a tramp so that he'd fuck you! And the fact you didn't, to defend my honour... I could not feel more loved right now."

She looks up at me and smiles. "I do love you," she says, and kisses me.

"Er, sorry to interrupt, but..." the student says.

I hadn't noticed, but we've stopped in a quiet car park by the beach.

"What do you want to do now?" I ask Emma.

"Keep my promises."

She shrugs off my jacket and gets out of the car -- a little puzzled, the student and I follow. Emma catwalks around the car, her pierced nipples and pussy on display for anyone to see.

"I never said which brother I'd fuck," she grins naughtily as she drapes herself over the student. "What do you say? Would you like my married pussy?"

"Er... I... um..." he stutters.

"What's the matter?" she purrs. "I'll let you cum anywhere you like."

He whispers something in Emma's ear. Her demeanour swiftly turns from wanton slut to caring lover:

"Sweetie, will you let me be your first?"

He's a virgin?!

He still seems unsure.

"Why don't you suck on my tits while you decide?" she says, and gently pulls his head down to her chest. 

Hesitantly, he licks at the ring in her nipple; then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. It doesn't take long until he's ravishing her breasts, his hands and tongue all over her.

Emma throws her head back, loving the sensation. Her hand snakes between them, reaching for his cock.

He freezes. "What if someone sees?" he mumbles.

Emma leads him round to the other side of the car, so that it blocks the view to the road. 

She gives him a little kiss. "Now, do you want me to ride you, or do you want to fuck me?"

He shrugs, still shy and nervous -- maybe worried that saying the wrong thing will wake Emma up or something.

Emma gets down on all fours, facing the ocean, and sticks her butt in the air. "How about like this?"

God, she looks good.

Cautiously, he removes his dick from his pants. It's 10-inches long, and thick.

Emma smiles. "It's beautiful. It really is." She spreads her labia with her fingers. "C'mon, give me the honour. Fill my pretty pussy with your big black virgin dick."

He gets to his knees behind her and aims at her dripping slit. Somewhat clumsily, he struggles to push it inside.

"Don't worry," Emma coos. "It's difficult to fit such a big dick in such a tiny hole. Let me help."

She takes hold of his snake and pushes herself back onto the first couple of inches. They both gasp, then groan.

Emma looks back over her shoulder at him. "Congratulations, you are officially no longer a virgin!"

He just stares down at her hole stretching around his pole. Emma leans back, and another few inches disappear inside her.

"Oh God, you feel incredible," Emma sighs. "Now come on, fuck me."

He slowly eases backwards, and then forwards. Emma attempts to encourage him by matching his thrusts, and trying to go a little quicker, but he's still tentative.

"Grab my hips," she instructs, "and give it to me hard and fast. You won't break me."

He still looks unsure as he takes hold of her, but Emma gives him a nod of reassurance. He gives one hard thrust forward -- Emma yelps in pleasure.

"Yes! That's it."

He does it again; and again, his dick sinking a little further into her each time.

"Yes! Oh God, yes! Keep doing that!"

"Oh no," he grunts, and pulls out, spewing his load all over Emma's bum and halfway up the back of her corset.

I see frustration flash across Emma's face, but she quickly hides it.

"I'm sorry," the student apologises, "I couldn't... it happened so fast, caught me by surprise..."

"It's ok, sweetie" Emma soothes. "It happens to everyone, especially on their first time. You are going to make a lot of girls very happy around here, believe me."

He smiles awkwardly as he hurriedly struggles to stuff his dick back in his pants.

Emma stands, absentmindedly massaging the semen into her skin. "We're going to stay here for a bit," she says, taking my hand.

The student takes the hint, relieved to be given an exit. He thanks us both again, jumps into his car, and speeds off.

"I know people say you never forget your first time, but he'll definitely remember that," I tease.

Emma giggles. "He'd better!"

"Sooo," I wrap an arm around her. "Now you've had five pricks in you since we got married."

"Yes, I have," she grins.

"And none of them have been mine."

She grins again. "No, they haven't."

"Y'know, our wedding was about a hundred yards over there?"

"Why d'you think I said we'd stay?"

We kiss, and wander onto the beach.

When we reach the spot, I lay my jacket down on the sand like a blanket. 

"What a gentleman," Emma giggles as she lowers her pert bottom onto it and spreads her legs invitingly. "Would my husband please make love to his wife now?"

I lie on top of her and we make out, taking my time, enjoying finally having her all to myself. Much as I enjoy sharing her, these moments are the most special.

I unleash my rock hard rod and tease her pierced clit with it.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too," I reply. "More than I know how to say. You are my everything."

I slide into her and we both moan; and kiss; and we make sweet and tender love together.

"Y'know, I've fucked nearly as many different guys these last few days as I fucked the whole of my life before this week," she grins. "I'm so lucky to have someone like you who'll let me do it."

"You can be as nasty as you like," I tell her, "as long as you come home to me."

"Careful," she warns with a smile. "You don't know how nasty I might get!"

I groan and buck into her, harder. "Did you really want both brothers in your pussy?" I ask.

She grins wickedly. "Yeah, but I don't think they'd have both fit."

"No. You'll just have to find some brothers with more normal dicks."

"Hmm... there's a pair of twins in my class at school."

"Oh fuck," I mutter, and thrust into her harder. She begins rubbing her pierced clit. "You've got a thing for brothers?"

"Yes."

"What about your brother? Have you got a thing for him too?"

"Oh God."

She humps up into me; I pound into her as hard as I can, my balls bubbling.

"Do you want to fuck him? Do you want to fuck your brother?" I ask urgently.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I want to fuck my brother."

"Promise me you will. Promise me you'll fuck him."

"I PROMISE I'LL FUCK MY BROTHER!"

I bury myself inside her as we orgasm together; my ejaculate unloading deep into her, as her's soaks me. I kiss her, and we make out as the magical waves pass through us. The now-familiar feeling of her body vibrating against mine is heavenly, and I hold her tight until her beautiful grey-blue eyes re-open, and she beams at me.

"You're the best," she says, staring into my eyes. "No matter what I say when I'm fucking anyone else, no-one makes me feel like you do."

"I love you," I say, and kiss her. "You know I'm gonna hold you to that, right? Your promise?" I teasingly ask.

She nods and smiles, and kisses me.

"I'll do anything for you."

If this is what wedded life is going to be like, I can't wait. It's gonna be bliss. Hot, sexy bliss.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 13



HALF TERM, DAY 9, SUNDAY - returning to the real world

I'll admit I'm concerned.

When I awoke, Emma wasn't in our honeymoon suite. She'd left her phone, keycard, purse... everything. 

I had to be honest - she'd probably gone to fuck someone. In itself, that wasn't a massive problem, although I'd rather she'd told me, or at least left a note. 

I don't know where she is, or who she might be with. I can't shake the fear that she might have gone back to find that dangerous DJ.

There's only 5 minutes left until we have to be out of the room. Emma knows this, so I decide to check out and wait for her in reception. Laden with our luggage, I struggle out of our room...

And here she comes, striding down the corridor with a little bounce in her step, looking tired and a little sheepish, and very very hot - she's wearing a tiny, tight, lipstick-pink latex skirt that's only 10 inches from top to bottom; an extra-small thin white vest top that sits above the pierced belly button and butterfly tattoo on her flat stomach, and is stretched taut over her perfect breasts and nipple rings; and the thigh-high white leather stiletto boots that she wore yesterday. Her hair's damp and dishevelled.

"Where have you been?" I ask as she kisses me. She reeks of sex. "Or rather, who have you been with?"

"Here, let me take that case," she offers.

"I've got it, we need to get moving," I say as we enter an elevator. Emma gets a disdainful glare from a middle-aged woman already in there; her husband's glare is a little more admiring.

"So, who was it?" I press.

"Santi," Emma replies, avoiding my gaze.

"Who?"

"The drummer from the band."

The middle-aged woman sniffs the air - she must be able to smell Emma too.

"You know he has a massive crush on you, right?" I ask, worried.

Emma shrugs, again sheepish, and tries to hide a little smile.

Bing-bong! The lift doors open - ground floor - and we all pile out.

I let the middle-aged couple go ahead of us.

"She could smell the sex on you."

"I showered, but he insisted on sending me back to you with a leaving present. That's why I'm late."

She subtly slides her fingers up her skirt, then lifts them to show me - they're sticky with his spunk.

Unsure what to say, I lead the way to the reception desk while Emma licks her fingers clean, and we queue behind the middle-aged couple.

"I thought you'd like it," she whispers to me.

"What time did you go?"

"About 2."

"You can't have been doing it all that time?!"

"Not all, no."

I don't want to ask what else they might have been doing. Visions of them chatting, laughing, and cuddling flash before my eyes. The sort of things lovers do.

I'm thankful that there'll soon be over a thousand miles between Emma and this Santi guy.

***

The trip home was uneventful. I'd had it in mind that we might join the mile-high club, but Emma was wiped out and slept virtually the whole time.

We got back to her place to find The Boyfriend had moved out, which was a relief. There was also a message from Emma's school - she was to return to work the next day.

As she was still shattered, and tomorrow I would need to commute to my old job some 2 hours drive away, we decided we'd better have an early night.

***

The first couple of week back were a blur.

I'd been apprehensive about returning to work since Emma fucked Steve, my boss, and let him film a humiliating video of it. Turns out I needn't have worried.

He was actually really nice to me (which was weird), and was understanding when I told him I'd be looking for another job closer to my new home. He even offered to help, saying that he knew a couple of guys in that area. Maybe he was looking for a repeat with Emma. 

That was not going to happen.

Emma returned to work without any problems. The boy who'd blackmailed her was moved to a different class. Her outfits remained sexy, but not outrageously so - we thought it best not to rock the boat so soon after a near-scandal. High heels and knee-length leather skirts were our favourite... for now.

The Boyfriend may have moved on, but he'd taken a parting shot. He'd always been popular with Emma's mum, and he'd apparently told her (in detail) why they broke up - including the story of Emma being made airtight by three hulking black men at Halloween.

The result: a huge argument between Emma and her mum; and Emma being banned from seeing her little sister. Emma was angry and hurt, but her mum didn't want Emma being a bad influence.

At least her mum had seemed to keep the stories to herself. Each day, when I would finally get home from work, there was always someone there - Emma's family and friends congratulating us on our wedding (and no doubt wanting to find out who this guy was that stole her from The Boyfriend and convinced her to marry him at such short notice).

Between visits, Emma was busy arranging a wedding party to invite everyone to. Except for one day, when she took the time to visit Leah on her way home from work.

When I got home that Wednesday to find our living room full of more unfamiliar faces, there was also a nice surprise. As she told me that Leah was throwing her a late bachelorette party, Emma gleefully showed me a new silver ring in the top of her right ear, and a tiny stud in her left nostril - the piercings I'd asked her to get before we went away. I loved them, but there was more...

On the inside of her right wrist, she'd got a small tattoo of an arrow piercing a heart.

I wanted to make love to her, right there and then.

***

Finally, an evening where I return home and there isn't an unknown car in our driveway.

Relieved at the idea of having a relaxing night, I stumble through the front door to find Emma sat on the stairs, naked but for red patent stilettos, legs spread wide, frigging herself frantically.

Ok, sod relaxing. This is so much better.

"Thank God you're home," she breathes. "Get here and fuck me now."

Always eager to please my wife, I strip in record time and step over her pile of discarded clothes and kiss her lips, glossed in the same colour as her 5-inch heeled pumps.

I push into her and she moans loudly. She's dripping wet.

"What's got you so hot?" I ask.

"My cousins were here," she whispers, and then with a grin: "With Alex. My brother."

My eyes widen, and my pulse quickens. This is the first time Emma's seen him since her wedding day vow to have sex with him.

I slam into her, hard, and hold myself deep inside. 

"So...?" I ask, perhaps a little too eagerly. "Did something happened?"

"I told him I'd fuck him."

"Holy fuck!!" A part of me had thought it was just a game - that she wouldn't really want to do it. "What did he say?!"

I slowly rock in and out of her.

"We only had a sec alone while he helped me get drinks. I asked if he was seeing anyone, and he said no-one in particular. So I teased him about being a man-whore, and he laughed and said he did alright, and I said 'I bet - I would'!"

"You're unbelievable!" I'm stunned she would be so bold.

"He sort of looked at me funny and said 'if we weren't brother and sister, right?', and I just smiled and went back to the girls! When he came back in, he had a chubby on."

"I bet he did!"

"I sat on his lap! He felt so big! I teased him about my piercings."

"What did you say?" I ask, increasing the pace, using my full length to pleasure her.

"He said he hoped I wasn't turning into a rock chick or something, with my new nose and ear piercings, and he asked how many I had now. I said nine and I felt his cock twitch! My cousin, Tracy, asked what I had, and I said the five they could see plus four they could only see if I wanted them to!

"Tracy asked if I'd get any more, and I said I was thinking of getting a couple in my lips. Alex said I shouldn't cos ones around the mouth look weird and feel like kissing a keyring, and I said I wasn't thinking of those lips!"

"Oh God," I mutter.

She bites her lower lip as I pound into her hot pussy. "I could tell he liked it. He was stroking my leg, really small and subtle so the others wouldn't notice, but it felt really good." 

I grab one of her tits and squeeze; then tweek the hard, pierced nipple. She bucks up into me.

Her heavy-lidded and sluttily-made-up grey-blue eyes stare into mine. "He wants me, doesn't he? My brother wants to stick his big fucking dick in me."

"Yes!" I cry.

"Oh! Fuck... I can't wait... aaaaaaAAAH!" She cums with a scream loud enough for the neighbours to hear, and I unload too, her tight pussy milking me for all I'm worth.

I'm pretty sure we'll be adding 'incest' to her growing list of slutty acts in the not-too-distant future.

***

Then came the biggest news of all. 

Emma was pregnant.

It couldn't possibly be a surprise for either of us, but it was still incredibly exciting. And from the due date, they'd calculated that she'd most likely conceived during the week around her birthday - which would guarantee I was the father.

I think we were both relieved, but I thought I could sense a tiny disappointment in Emma...

***

Today, Saturday, has been lovely. Just Emma and I, enjoying spending time in each other's company. 

There's been an added sexual tension in the air because it's Emma's bachelorette party this evening. And Emma has made us abstain from any sexual contact all day, because she wants to be ready to burst when she goes out. 

I love watching her get ready. 

She's put a centre parting in her luscious long blonde hair, which she's teased and tousled to get that wavy just-fucked look. She's wearing now-familiar thick fake lashes and heavy, dark eye make-up; and a dusky pink lipstick.

And sitting naked at her dressing table, changing her nipple bars for shining silver rings, she looks like a pornstar.

Emma agreed to let me help pick her outfit. I think we both found it hot that I was helping her look as slutty as possible to send her to get her fucked by another man (or men... or women).

And it had been Leah's idea for them all to go dressed as schoolgirls.

I must remember to thank her.

Emma and I had agreed that this should be one of the rare occasions that she would a) not wear leather or latex, and b) wear underwear. We knew Cathy, Emma's oldest friend, would take the opportunity to wear a latex costume, so Emma wanted to do something different. And with the length of skirt Emma had, she wanted to wear underwear for the first part of the evening - while her workmates and cousins were there - but after they'd gone home and it was just Cathy and Leah with her, the second part of the evening would begin and the underwear could come off.

I started by handing her some stockings. She rolls the sheer black material sensuously up her long legs, settling the lace hold-up in place at mid-thigh. I move close to her, breathing in her old sweet perfume that reminds me of a time before she was a slut and still just a sweet girly-girl, and straighten the seem up the back of her stockings.

Her pumps next - they're white but for a black toe and heel, with an inch-high hidden platform and a 6-inch stiletto. I slide them onto her delicate feet, and there's a shift in more than just her posture - high heels always seem to bring out the whore in Emma.

I pick up her lacy thong, hold it low for her to step into (which she does daintily), and pull it up her legs until the thin strings ride low on her hips and the tiny see-through black triangle settles over her mound, her clit hood piercing still obvious. She pirouettes, and the thong behind is so slim that I can see her arsehole either side of it.

She slips on a matching bra, which hoists and pushes her tits together to an amazing cleavage. Her nipple rings are clearly visible through the elegant and sexy lace.

I help her with her white, cap-sleeved blouse. It's so tight that I can't button it over her bulging breasts, and it's transparent enough that the black bra could be seen even without the gaping neckline. I reckon if she gets under some bright lights at the club, you could see her nipple piercings too.

Next, I hold a navy blue skirt open for her to step into. At first sight, it might have appeared surprisingly long, but it's designed to be highwaisted. Despite being stretchy, it's so tight that it's a real struggle to get on but, with some tugging and wiggling, we do, and I zip it at the back. The top of it sits just over her pierced belly button and completely covers her tramp stamp, but the lower hem is high enough to reveal the lower curves of her buttocks even while she's stood up straight. When she sits, it rides up to hide nothing.

The finishing touches are her genuine old school tie, knotted loosely around her neck; and a too-small navy-blue blazer with a single silver button and 3/4 length sleeves.

In a little-girl voice that's a lot sexier than it really should be, she asks, "Do you think the boys will like me?"

"If girls had looked like you when I was at school, my grades would have been so bad I'd probably be cleaning toilets for a living," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her bum into my crotch. "Got a little time before you go?"

"No," she smiles, shimmying from my grasp. "Now, what do you think - rings on or off?"

"It's your hen-do. Should be engagement ring on, wedding ring off."

She slips off her wedding ring and hands it to me. "Look after it for me."

"You bet."

She leads me out of our bedroom - she looks so fucking hot, she's going to have her pick tonight.

***

Emma insisted on taking a taxi (and getting one home) so that I wasn't waiting up for her. I told her it wasn't safe for her to travel alone as there was a real risk of her getting raped, especially the way she was dressed, but she just laughed and said she was feeling so horny it was unlikely to be rape.

It was a struggle not to whack off while she was gone. I just couldn't distract myself from the knowledge that she would be getting up to no good. To keep my hands from wandering to my crotch, I kept them occupied by playing with Emma's wedding ring.

I must have drifted off, because I'm woken with a start by the doorbell.

I stumble to the front door, glancing at the clock with blurry eyes. 6:41am? Is this Emma just getting home now?

It is. And she's in a real state.

Her school uniform and underwear has gone, replaced by a man's white office shirt. The buttons are fastened only as high as the lower curve of her breasts, and she has "SLUT" scrawled across her chest in big red-lipstick letters. A couple of hickeys mark her neck and collarbone; her lipstick is smudged and her mascara has run, and her hair is a tangled mess.

She steps inside, unsteady on her high heels, and moving like she has aches and pains all over.

"Are you ok?" I ask, genuinely concerned, putting my arm around her.

She smiles up at me, weakly. She seems absolutely shattered. "I had an amazing night."

I notice a little dribble of cum on her chin. "Er, you've got something..."

She wipes it up with a finger, then sucks it off. "Taxi driver's," she explains with a little grin.

"Do you want me to run you a bath? I can get you something to drink, or eat..."

She shakes her head. "Later. Bed please."

I walk her up the stairs. "So you had a good time?"

"The only way it could have been better was if you were there," she says.

"Why didn't you come back here then?"

"Because if you'd seen what he was doing to me, you'd have stopped him."

Alarm bells reverberate around my head. I'm fully awake now.

"Who did what?"

"Get in bed, I'll tell you."

Worried, I do as she asks. Slowly, she unbuttons 'her' shirt.

Her breasts look like they've been tortured. There are red marks and hickeys all over them, and a few stripes where it looks like she was hit with a cane or something. And some serious looking bite marks around one of her hard pierced nipples...

"What bastard did this to you?" I fume, my blood starting to boil.

"It wasn't just him, it was Leah and Cathy too..."

"WHO WAS IT?!"

Emma seems a little taken aback - I'm not sure she's ever seen me this angry before.

"It was a stripper called Mark. He came dressed as a headmaster. Leah got him..."

"I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"He didn't do anything I didn't want him to do..."

"He bit you! He fucking drew blood!"

"That's when I came," she protests, embarrassed. "One of the times."

"I don't understand," I say, trying to calm myself. "You'd always said you didn't like pain, but a few times now you seem to have really enjoyed it. And now this..."

She doesn't seem sure how to answer. I notice her fingers are subconsciously stroking her swollen and gaping pussy. It's an angry shade of red, and also shows some signs of punishment.

"I don't like it most of the time, but when I get really turned on... yeah, I guess. I s'pose it's submitting to someone, giving them my body, letting them do whatever they like to it... It feels so slutty. It makes me wet."

My mind is blown.

"So you got off on them hurting your tits?"

She nods. "That, and this..." She turns around, facing away from me. 

Her butt is even worse than her boobs. It's bruised and covered in welts, enough to draw blood in a few spots...

"...I wanted to see if I could cum just from being caned..."

...and between the welts, on her right buttock, is a pair of pink lips. A kiss.

I'm stunned. "A new tattoo?"

"Yeah. I did cum, and Cathy kissed my bum better. Mark said it would make a hot tattoo, so Leah did it." She's looking back at me over her shoulder, concerned. "Do you like it?"

I stare at her. Her beaten butt; her laddered and ripped stockings and her sky-high heels; her tramp stamp, and now this new tattoo.

"He was right. It's hot." 

She smiles with relief.

"So you liked this bastard Mark, then?" I ask.

She smiles coyly. "He's like this God's-gift-to-women type, really arrogant and full of himself. As a person, he's a complete prick, but he's got an amazing body and a really nice dick that he definitely knows how to use..."

"You'd fuck him again, wouldn't you?"

She smiles again, but this time it's wicked. "I'm seeing him Monday after work."

I'm actually surprised that I'm not more surprised. I guess I'm getting used to how big a slut she's becoming. "You aren't going to let him hit you again, are you?"

"Probably not. I should let this lot heal first." She leans close and whispers, "His dick's so big, he's never had a girl let him fuck her arse before. I promised him mine."

I lunge across the bed to get to her, but she evades my grasp.

"Nuh-uh," she teases. "I haven't told you about the best bit yet."

"There's more?"

"Yep." She slips out of her heels, slides the ruined stockings from her long legs, and gingerly eases into bed next to me, her wounds obviously causing her some pain.

"Tell me," I ask, too eagerly.

She takes my rock hard cock in her delicate hand and gently strokes it. "Alex was there." 

"Oh my God! Where? What happened?"

"On the dancefloor at Revolution. We proxy-fucked."

Her strokes lengthen and strengthen.

"What?"

"I fucked Mark while Alex was fucking some skank a few feet away. I was dreaming Mark's big cock was Alex's, and I could tell he was fantasising about me too. The girl he was banging even looked a bit like me. It was like we were fucking each other."

"Seriously?"

"Our eyes were locked, like, the whole time," she says as she locks eyes with me now, pumping my dick. "We came at the same time." 

"You're kidding? What happened then?"

"He vanished. The little fucker disappeared." I can feel her frustration. "I promise you, next week, at our wedding party, I'm gonna fuck him. Even if I have to do it in front of everyone."

"Oh God," I grunt, and Emma, quick as a flash, moves her mouth to my dick just in time to collect my incest-inspired load.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 13



She swallows my spunk and licks me clean. "Yum," she purrs, with a smile.

"I want to watch," I tell her. "Promise me I can watch you fuck your brother. It doesn't have to be the first time, but I have to see it."

"I want you there the first time. But you aren't going to be just watching..."

***

Time continued to fly by. When I wasn't working or on my long commute to work, I was doing interviews for jobs closer to home. I hardly saw Emma all week. But she kept herself busy.

On Monday, she got arsefucked by Mark, which she said hurt but was "fricking amazing". On Tuesday, she went to Cathy's for a girly-night-in and they wound up sharing a double-ended dildo. Wednesday: she went shopping and helped some guy who was shopping for his wife's birthday present in Victoria's Secret by modelling outfits for him - and then fucking him. Thursday evening she spent at a spa getting pampered (and 69ing her masseur). And on Friday, she went out on the town and spent the night in a university dorm with a couple of students.

And somehow, between all these adventures, she organised our wedding party.

The day went great. Emma had booked the local rugby club again - the team her brother plays for, and where she had her 30th birthday party - and had done an amazing job with decorations.

We recreated our ceremony for our friends and family. Emma's mum and sister didn't come, but everything else was perfect. Emma looked almost exactly the way the did on the actual day, with the same hair style, the same blue tongue piercing, and a bracelet she'd found that matched the one she'd borrowed. The only visible differences were the new piercings in her ear and nose.

The non-visible differences were under her dress. She was wearing the same white patent leather stiletto boots, but that was it. No underwear - she didn't want anything to get in the way of her brother's dick.

I was besotted all over again. We'd been holding hands almost all afternoon, and we still are now the party's in full swing.

There've been so many people congratulating us, and it seems I don't know the vast majority of them. Emma's always been popular, and her family is bigger than mine, so our invite lists were lopsided. It's been cousin followed by aunt followed by friend from work...

But Alex hasn't spoken to Emma or I once, outside of a tense moment in the receiving line before dinner. He's spent virtually the whole time propping up the bar.

Emma wanted to leave him until he was pretty drunk. He's a mountain of a guy - a flanker for his rugby team - so it could take a lot of alcohol. I could tell we were both surreptitiously watching him all evening - I was even counting his drinks. After his seventh beer, I suggested now was the time.

I sense a little tremble of excitement in Emma as we make our way across the room, and she taps him on the shoulder.

"You've been here all night. Hoping I'd dance on the bar again?" she teases.

"No," Alex mumbles, avoiding looking at Emma.

"I saw you when we were here for my 30th. You couldn't take your eyes from my cooch!"

He freezes, a rabbit in the headlights. "That's bollocks!"

"I saw you!" she smiles. "You'd have been staring even more if I'd had my clit piercing in."

His eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"That's right - now you know about six of them," Emma purrs. "Would you like to see all nine?"

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" he hisses, keeping his voice low, not wanting to draw attention. "I mean, what the fuck are you doing?" Then he turns to me. "Are you blind or stupid?"

Emma's surprisingly calm, considering she's trying to seduce her brother in a room full of our families.

"It was all his idea." She squeezes my hand. "I tell him everything, and everyone, I do. He knows everything that happened at my bachelorette." She subtly puts her hand on his thigh - not high enough to rouse suspicion should anyone else see, but enough to rouse his dick. "Everything."

They stare into each other's eyes - Emma's steely assurance answering Alex's questioning glare.

"This isn't a wind up?" he asks.

"I need to feel your big dick inside me, right now," Emma declares.

I'm surprised how loudly she said it. I look around: my parents are ten yards away; Emma's father is on the other side of me, no more than 3 feet away. 

Again Alex turns to me. "Is this serious?"

I nod.

Emma says to me: "Take him to the changing rooms. I'll be there in two minutes."

She disappears into a conversation with someone else I don't know, and I lead Alex out into the corridor. I'm a little surprised he follows without protest.

We enter the home team dressing room, and a history of mixed feelings rush back at me. This was where I fled to after watching Emma accept The Ex-Boyfriend's marriage proposal; but it was also where Emma and I conceived our child just minutes later.

Oblivious to my memories, Alex paces around like a caged lion. Despite my excitement, I try to radiate calm.

"This is fucked up. Seriously, this is just plain wrong," he grumbles.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why?!" he repeats, incredulous. "She's my sister!"

"So?"

He stares at me like I'm out of my mind, and continues pacing.

"You'd fuck her if she wasn't your sister, wouldn't you?"

He stops. I can see the turmoil.

He looks like he's about to bottle it. Emma had better get here soon...

She bustles through the door, locking it behind her. Then, with a wicked grin, unlocks it again.

"Get undressed," she orders. "Both of you."

I do as she says. 

Alex hesitates. "We can't do..."

His protests stop as Emma's dress hits the floor. Naked but for her white thigh-high boots, she looks spectacular. I can see Alex drinking in every curve, every piercing, every tattoo... and then his eyes fix on her waxed, wet, pierced pussy.

She's been becoming more and more of an exhibitionist, but seeing the effect she has on her own brother really lights her up.

"So, now you can see all nine," she grins. "Do you want to pick where my tenth will be?" She tickles her pussy lips suggestively.

"You're crazy," he mumbles, almost fearful of the embodiment of sex that his elder sister has turned into. 

"No, I'm horny." She whispers, edging closer to him. "You can pierce me anywhere you like."

This isn't some nerdy virgin here, Alex is a serious cocksmith, yet he's turned into a jabbering mess. He really doesn't seem to know how to deal with Emma.

"How about one on the side of your ear?"

"Hmm, that's a little safe and boring, isn't it?"

As she gets within his personal space, he backs away.

"I'd want it to be somewhere I could see it."

"This isn't a one time thing. You'll be able to see it wherever you put it. Regularly."

He backs into the wall. Emma stops an inch in front of him - not touching him, but he'd have to touch her body to move away.

"Or maybe you want to pick my next tattoo? Get your name inked somewhere intimate..."

She leans forward to kiss him, and he pulls away. She tries again - he's too slow, and their lips touch...

Time stops. I watch as they stare into each other's eyes for the longest time, so close that their noses are almost nudging.

She's challenging him to make the next move - to choose to commit to this, or to stop it. 

I can see he wants it, he wants to kiss her. But something's holding him back.

The tension rises, and rises, until it's unbearable.

Something's got to give...

It's Alex. He pulls Emma to him and kisses her hungrily. They're almost frantic, pawing at each other, their lips and tongues mashing and twisting in a frenzy.

I've never seen Emma so desperately passionate. They've lost themselves in erotic rapture.

Against his bulk, Emma seems even more slim and petite than usual. She cries out as he shoves two large fingers into her dripping snatch, and she practically tears his trousers off.

She'd intimated he was big, but I didn't realise how big. Nearly ten inches long, and really really thick. I can hear her moan in anticipation as she struggles to get her hand around it.

He lines his monster up with her slit, and...

"Wait," Emma breathes.

Alex stares at her like she's gone mad. "What!?"

"I want my husband to feel the first time my brother's cock pushes into me too."

She signals to me to sit down on the bench, in Alex's spot. The spot we fucked in at her 30th party.

I obey, my dick sticking straight up in the air expectantly.

She struts over and turns to face away from me, her legs straddling mine. The sight of her perfect butt and the little dimples in her lower back (with the lipstick kiss and tramp stamp tattoos) is glorious. She takes hold of my prick and holds it against her arsehole, and stares at her brother while she forces her sphincter to stretch around my pole. 

She moans as she bounces up and down on my dick, taking the full length up her unbelievably tight rectum.

Alex's eyes are locked on his sister's arse accomodating my rod. "What the fuck?!"

Emma sits back and settles onto me, getting comfortable. Or as comfortable as she can be while I'm impaled in her arsehole. "Your sister is a complete fucking slut. The sooner you get used to that idea, the sooner we can all enjoy it. Now come here and let me taste your beautiful cock."

He steps forward in a daze. As soon as it's in range, Emma grabs his python and pulls it to her mouth.

His girth makes it difficult for her, and she strains her jaw to push herself as deep as possible onto his dick. I guess out of habit, he takes her head and helps her, jamming until she gags on his cock.

"This is absolutely fucking mental," he says.

She pulls back and spits on her brother's massive rod. "If it helps, don't think of me as your sister. Just think of me as another one of your skanks."

"Is that what you're doing? Thinking of me as just another guy?"

"No. I'm gonna get off at how naughty it is that I'm gonna have my brother's big dick inside me."

She swallows him again, gripping his arse and fucking her face onto his cock. I'm actually worried she's going to hurt herself.

I guess Alex is too, because he has to forcibly pull away to stop her choking herself. "What the fuck happened to you?!" He's shocked and properly concerned.

"Just hurry up and fuck me before someone comes and finds us." She opens her legs wide and spreads her pussy lips with her fingers.

Obviously deciding to just go with it for now and get his head around it later, he moves his huge member down to her mound and slides it between her labia.

"Do you really want your lips pierced?" he asks.

"If that's what you want. I'll do anything, just stick your big cock inside your sister's slutty little cunt. Go on, do it. Do it! Oooh yeeaAAAHH!"

Being deep in Emma's arsehole, I can feel Alex's dick as it edges inside her too. It's an amazing sensation. 

Emma almost crying, she's so happy. "Oh my God, bro, no-one's ever felt this good. We should have been doing this years ago."

Alex pulls back a bit, then jams back into her - and Emma's as surprised as the rest of us as she cums, squirting into the air, soaking all of us. She locks her ankles behind Alex's back to keep him inside as she vibrates on my cock. It takes all my self control not to unload myself.

"Shit, sis, you're a squirter?" Alex is almost laughing.

Emma stares up into his eyes, her body still twitching with little aftershocks. "This is the hottest thing ever. It makes me feel so sexy that even my brother can't say no. Fuck me hard, little bro. Use me."

He begins thrusting, building up the pace.

"Come on, you're not even using all of it!" Emma urges. "I'm the biggest slut you'll ever fuck, make the most of OH FUCK!" 

His strokes lengthen, and I can feel their bodies thud together as he gives her all of him. 

"That's it!" she cries, and cums again. Alex pauses but Emma begs him, "Don't stop, God, don't stop! Keep goiiinnnnngggg..."

Her orgasm seems to roll on, never ending.

Alex takes one of her breasts in his big right hand and plays with the nipple ring.

"Yeah, twist them. No, hard." She yelps in pain. Another squirt from her dripping pussy. "Yes! Oh God, like that!"

"You like that?" he asks, genuinely unsure.

She seems completely out of control - her body's constantly jerking and trembling, and she's desperate beyond any time I've seen her before. 

"Don't worry if I like it. Do whatever you want with my body. It's yours."

The familiar twinge of jealousy hits my heart and my cock simultaneously. But this time it's a little different; a little more taboo, and that makes it even more delicious.

Alex slams into her. I can feel the power from his rugby training like a jackhammer, and I've got Emma as a buffer between us. God knows what she's feeling.

"This is where I got pregnant," Emma tells Alex. "In your seat, minutes after getting engaged to The Ex-Boyfriend, and with my now-husband talking dirty about how much I wanted to fuck you."

I'd been concentrating so hard on not cumming yet, that the momentary distraction of the memory of me impregnating Emma has me spunking in my wife's naughtiest hole. My orgasm's so powerful that I go a little light-headed. 

"Oh fuck, he's cumming up my arse! My husband's baby-making juice is filling my arse while my brother's fucking my pregnant cunt." Emma squirts again! She's gonna be severly dehydrated if this carries on much longer. 

"I'm getting close," Alex warns.

"Do you want a nephew or a niece? A girl you can turn into a slut, just like her mum? Your cock's so close to her right now..."

"Oh fuck!"

"Oh God... imagine if I was having your baby," she pants.

"I'm cumming!" Alex grunts.

"In my mouth!" Emma urges, and Alex quickly pulls out. His first shot unloads on her stomach; the second hits her on the cheek; but he gets his cockhead in her mouth in time for her to get the rest.

She mewls contentedly as her mouth fills up, and sighs as Alex withdraws his cock. Emma mimes for Alex to take a picture.

"You're fucking kidding me!"

Emma puts her hands together in a begging motion. Disbelieving, Alex nevertheless searches his trousers for his phone.

Emma hurriedly retrieves a pen from my jacket pocket and writes in big black letters on her flat, toned stomach, 'I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER'.

She gets on her knees in front of Alex, displaying the pool of cum on her pierced tongue, and poses for a few pics.

I am definitely going to have to get copies of those.

Emma swallows her mouthful, and kisses Alex on the cheek.

"Thanks bro. You're amazing."

We all hurry to get dressed. Emma massages the cum on her stomach into her skin, then wipes her cheek clean with a finger and runs it around her pouting mouth.

"Who wants to watch me kiss Dad with bro's cum on my lips?"

Her Dad? I wonder if she'd ever...



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 14



The celebrations ended; the wedding dress went into careful storage; and as it has a tendency to, life settled into some kind of routine for the next few months. Although, with Emma, routine is never dull.

A typical week would include:

* Emma spending one evening fucking Cathy (I was never allowed to join them -- Emma still gets very jealous!).

* Alex coming over for dinner, then fucking Emma. Sometimes we'd double team her, but quite often I liked to watch, and have Emma all to myself after.

* Emma going out with Leah to a club and fucking some random stranger(s). Occasionally she'd bring them home, but usually I was on taxi duty to pick her up the morning after. She would always let me pick her outfit, though -- we both found it hot that I was sending her out to fuck whoever she wanted.

And all this as she was growing bigger with our babies.

Yes, I said babies. Turns out we're having twins! A boy and a girl. It was exciting and scary enough having one baby, but two is going to be crazy. We can't wait.

Fortunately, Emma hasn't suffered too badly with morning sickness or anything like that -- in fact, she's feeling great. And hornier than ever, which has been fun for the rest of us.

She's managed to stay pretty trim. Emma hasn't put on the weight that many mothers do, and if anything looks even more beautiful. With two weeks to go, her breasts have ballooned from a C cup to a DD, which she's deliriously happy about. I'm not complaining either -- I'd always worried bigger tits would look odd on her slim frame (and that fake ones can look, well, fake), but her naturally-bigger boobies are incredible. And Emma's wearing every low-cut top she can find to make the most of them!

In fact, everyone seemed to love her new funbags -- Alex, Leah, Cathy and I (and countless one-night-stands) have all made her cum just from sucking on her even-more-sensitive pierced nipples. Her new favourite move is giving guys tit-jobs, and more often than not she returns home with dried spunk caked on them.

She wondered aloud one night if they would be big enough for the trio of black guys she fucked on Halloween. She hasn't seen them again, partly because she knows I'm worried about how carried away she got, but also I think because that scared her a little too. But those guys are obviously still on her mind.

So, what else has been happening?

I got a new job -- it was more money, but inevitably that brought with it more responsibility, and I'm having to work longer hours. I am at least getting home earlier than when I was commuting for my old job -- and we can spend the extra money on things for the twins, and on sexy stuff for Emma!

It's unfortunately difficult to find leather and latex maternity clothing, but Emma got a few items custom made (at least latex stretches!). Her collection of high heels and boots continued to grow unabated, and she was wearing thigh-high (and even crotch-high) boots most of the time when she wasn't working (and on rare occasions to work as well).

Emma's love of body decoration continued too, with more piercings and tattoos. Although she'd said she didn't want tattoos in places that would be visible if she was wearing a wedding dress, she didn't think that was valid anymore now she's married. So while her whole body was now available, we agreed that neither of us liked tattoos on the arms or legs. Definitely no sleeve tats.

She got a tiny black outline of a heart on her right ankle; and she got a small butterfly on the back of her left shoulder, in a design that matches the one on her stomach. She wanted to get more on her stomach and sides, but would have to wait until her belly wasn't swollen with babies!

Emma kept her word and let her brother Alex pick her next piercing. I suggested he think about it carefully and do some research, and he came back with something wonderful -- the triangle piercing.

It's a circular barbell that goes horizontally behind the nerve bundle of the clitoral shaft -- so Emma's clit would be stimulated from the back and front!

I pointed out that Emma wouldn't be able to have sex for 2 to 3 months -- but she said she'd be fine with everyone just fucking her arse for that time.

So that's what happened. Emma, Alex and I went together, and Leah did the piercing (during which Emma orgasmed). And her orgasms have been easier, longer, and more powerful ever since. Now it's fully healed, It's not unusual for her to cum almost constantly while being fucked by a big dick.

She also got a second piercing in her tongue, right behind the first; and some more in her ears -- another in each lobe, and a couple of rings up the cartilage of her right ear so they meet the ring she already had at the top. So totalling five in her right ear, and two in her left, which brings her overall total to 15.

She said she thought 21 would be a nice number to stop at -- I don't know why she picked that amount, but I know she was waiting until after giving birth to get her labia pierced. That would take it to 17, and she wouldn't tell me (or hadn't decided) where to get the other four.

I think that brings us up to date. It's Friday night and Emma's agreed to forgo her normal slutty night out to spend the evening with me, celebrating the beginning of her maternity leave. She wanted to work as late as possible in her pregnancy so she'd have more time with the twins after they're born. We're going to have a rare weekend to ourselves -- because Emma will have her weeks free while I'm still slaving away at work.

I bundle through the front door and Emma greets me, looking gorgeous in red patent leather thigh-high boots over black wetlook leggings, and a long red v-neck t-shirt with a slit cut down from the collar to reveal her better-than-ever cleavage. Her lipstick matches her top and boots; her eyes are smokily and sexily shadowed, as always; and her hair is long (almost to mid-back) and straight, and looks an even lighter blonde than when I left this morning.

"You got your hair done?" I ask.

"Yeah. I know you like it lighter."

"I love it. You're so beautiful." I kiss her, and we make out for a couple of minutes, until I get too 'handsy' and Emma wiggles away.

"Not until after dinner. I made your favourite."

We sit down to a delicious roast lamb -- you'd think a woman this perfect in so many ways would have an imperfection somewhere, but cooking isn't it.

We catch up on the day, chit-chatting... and I notice she keeps trying to hide a wicked little grin, a smile I recognise from when she has a dirty little secret she can't wait to tell me.

"What is it?" I ask.

"What?" she grins back.

"You've got something naughty to tell me, haven't you?"

"Maybe," she sings, playfully. She twists a lock of hair around her finger. "Do you remember Santi? From our wedding?"

The drummer from the band Emma fucked. The guy who clearly had a massive crush on her. 

I'm suddenly alert and cautious. "Yeah. What of him?"

"He's coming to stay next week."

"You kept in touch with him?!"

I can see Emma suddenly realise that I'm not as happy about this as she is, and she gets a little defensive. "Yeah. He's a nice guy, why not?"

"Because the guy was clearly in love with you, and..." Just in time, I stop myself from accusing her of feeling the same way about him. 

"And what? Look, you're the one who said I could fuck anyone I want, except your mum and dad and The Ex-Boyfriend. You can't start picking and choosing just because you don't like the way someone looks at me."

"It's not just that..." I know my protests are weak without my main objection.

"If you're gonna encourage me to be a slut, you can't get upset if a load of them want to be with me."

Hold on, what? "Load of them?" I ask.

"Yes," she snaps. "You think I haven't had guys try to convince me to leave you for them? It happens every other week. But you're my husband, and I love you, so I tell them no. You should know that by now."

"I..."

She stands, clearly offended. "He's flying in Monday. You'd better get over your jealousies by then."

She storms from the room, leaving me to wonder who's in the wrong here. Maybe she's right -- I actually encouraged her to fuck this Santi guy the first time they did it. Do I have a right to be jealous? But it's so unusual for Emma to get that defensive -- doesn't that mean my fears are warranted?

And what's his reason for coming here? If he doesn't know anyone else to stay with, surely that can mean he's only here for Emma?

For now at least, I guess I need to trust her.

***

I journey home from work on Monday, dreading Santi being there. Being a little upset, Emma and I didn't have sex -- in fact, we hardly spoke -- all weekend, and it's just occured to me what a bad idea that was. She'd have been super-horny for the arrival of her Gibraltan stud.

And as I pull into our driveway, I can hear I wasn't wrong. Emma's orgasmic screams are louder than ever.

Apprehensive, I let myself in and go upstairs. It's of slight comfort that they aren't in our marital bed and are instead in the spare room. But I enter to see Emma lying on top of Santi, wearing nothing but the white thigh-high boots she got married in and with sperm dripping from her used cunt, and Santi kissing her (there's no other word for it) lovingly. Emma seems as consumed by the kiss as Santi is, and they don't even notice I'm there.

"Hi," I mutter, somewhat meekly.

They stop kissing and look to me. Emma makes no effort to move, and Santi tenderly strokes her leg.

"Hey honey," Emma chimes, looking happier than she did all weekend. "Santi made it."

"So I see." I force a smile. "How you doing, mate?"

"Great, thanks." Yeah, I bet he is. "And thanks for letting me stay, it's really good of you."

"No worries. Shall I get us a takeaway or something...?" I ask.

"We've already eaten," Emma replies, subconsciously stroking Santi's dick back to solidity. Then, with a wicked grin, "We've got a lot to catch up on."

Not waiting any longer, Emma resumes making out with Santi. And again, it's like I'm not even there.

This is going to be a long week.

***

Emma didn't come to my bed last evening, and spent the whole night with Santi. She tells me I can't be jealous, then it seems like she tries extra hard to make me feel that way.

All day Tuesday, I'm useless at work. I'm supposed to be preparing for a conference this Friday, but all I can think about is Emma, and what she might be doing.

I manage to skip out early, and arrive home just as Emma and Santi are leaving.

Emma's draped around Santi like she's his girl. The tiny stud she normally wears in her nose has been replaced by a silver ring, and she's dressed like a typical rock chick -- tiny and tight black leather skirt, black leather knee-high stiletto boots, and an old band t-shirt that I don't recognise underneath a black leather biker jacket. Her make-up is slutty and her very blonde hair is in her familiar just-fucked style.

"Are you going out? I thought we'd all eat together tonight, catch up," I say, trying not to sound as heartbroken as I feel.

"We're going to see a band he might be joining; they're playing in town," Emma purrs.

"Oh, ok. I..."

"We can't stop, we're running late already," Emma says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek as they hurry past me to her car. "We'll do something tomorrow."

I watch them leave. I don't care how bad it'll look to skip out of work early two days running, I'm definitely going to be home in good time tomorrow.

***

They didn't get home until gone 2am, and they went straight to his bed. It's possible Emma went there because she didn't want to disturb me, but I was awake anyway. And I couldn't help overhearing what they were up to, even though Emma was making an effort to be quiet when she came.

They were at it again when I left at 7am.

Wednesday's normally suck at work, but today was excruciating. I changed the batteries in my clock at one point, it seemed to be moving so slowly.

I rush home and find Emma, alone. That is a pleasant change. She's fresh from the shower, dressed in just a robe and with her hair tied up in a towel. With the slutty clothes and make-up she usually wears, it's easy to forget how naturally beautiful she is.

"Hey gorgeous, how are you?" I kiss her hello and gently rub her baby-filled belly.

She smiles. "Tired and a little sore, but good, thanks. How are you? Good day at work?"

"Sloooow day. I couldn't wait to get home to you."

She smiles again. "Santi's out tonight, so how about a lazy night in with dinner and a movie?"

"Perfect. Where's he gone?"

"To practice with the band we saw last night." She giggles. "He didn't want me to go with him this time."

"No?" That giggle's made me suspicious. "How come?"

"I offered to fuck the band if they'd let him in. He didn't like that!"

"Wow. I love how big a slut you are." I kiss her neck and fondle one of her pierced boobs.

She grins. "He doesn't. He hates the idea of me sleeping with other men."

I slide my hand down, inside her robe, to her crotch and the two piercings in her clit.

I'm stunned when she puts her hand on mine and stops me. "Sweetie, I told you, I'm sore. I need a rest."

"Why? Because you've been fucking him all day?" I know I sound bitter, but I need her to know I'm hurt.

She doesn't seem to pick up on it. "Yeah, that and we're going round to Cathy's tomorrow, and they're not allowed to touch each other, so..."

"...so you'll be the centre of their affections," I finish. "Why can't they touch each other?"

"I'm not letting Cathy have him! You know me."

I do know how jealous she gets. And that's her first slip, her first acknowledgement of how she really feels about Santi.

Then she takes the towel from her head, letting her hair flow loose...

She's dyed her hair chestnut brown, and had it cut short so the thick waves just brush her shoulders.

"Oh my God."

"Oh yeah, I got it done today. Do you like it?" She swishes it around playfully.

"You just had it done lighter."

"I know, but Santi wanted to see me as a brunette. He loves it. Actually, that's why I had to wash it again -- he loved it a little too literally!"

I should have known. "I've never seen it so short either."

"Santi wanted me to get a pixie cut, but I wasn't sure... Maybe next time."

"Yeah. It's a big change like it is."

She takes my hand and kisses it. "I know you like it light blonde, but y'know..." We both know she can't finish that thought. Because that would mean admitting she'd chosen Santi's desires over mine.

"It's nice," I manage to say.

She smiles and skips away into the kitchen.

My stomach flips; my heart feels like it's being squeezed. I don't like where this is going.

Maybe this is how The Ex-Boyfriend felt when Emma started fucking me.

***

Wednesday evening was actually pretty nice. Spending time as a normal married couple, cuddling in front of the tv... myabe this is what life should be like.

Ah, who am I kidding?

In spite of my worries, Thursday's preparations for the conference are regularly interrupted by thoughts of Emma being DPd by Cathy's strapon and Santi's dick, and of Emma cumming continuously from Cathy sucking on her pierced nipples.

And, although I hate admitting it, her new haircut is pretty sexy.

I manage, at least, to get home before whacking off -- and in my post-orgasmic slump, I fret over why Emma has never invited me to go with her to Cathy's. For nearly nine months, it's always been just Emma and Cathy.

These thoughts, and other doubts, stamp through my mind all night long. Emma doesn't come home. She doesn't usually stay the night at Cathy's. They must be having a better time than normal.

The conference is a real struggle. At every opportunity for a break, I go to the toilets to splash water on my face. I even try wanking in one of the cubicles, but I'm too tired to keep it up.

At lunch, I go out for some fresh air. It's a beautiful day, but the dark could still hovers over my head.

I spot an ice cream van across the road. Maybe I should dose up on sugar? I reckon it's got to be worth a...

***

Groggily, I open my eyes. Oh, God, that hurts. I feel like I've been hit by a bus.

A young woman, dressed all in white to match the room, fusses beside me.

"What happened?" I croak. "Where am I?"

"You're in hospital. You were hit by a bus. You're ok, nothing broken, just a concussion. You were lucky it was slowing for a stop."

Oh, well, that explains it. I close my eyes and...

"Don't go back to sleep!" the nurse urges. "Your phone has been going crazy. Your wife's in labour."

Oh my fucking God! "Where is she?" I ask.

"She's here, a couple of floors up."

I try to move, but everything hurts. "Help me, please," I beg.

The nurse has a wheelchair ready and waiting, and she assists me into it. Shit, the pain! A piece of advise -- don't get hit by a bus.

She pushes me through the hospital, with me urging her to go faster.

I can't miss it. Not only could I not forgive myself, but I'm pretty sure Emma wouldn't forgive me either.

The elevators are painfully slow, and I try to make us go faster by pushing the wheels myself. We almost speed straight past Emma's room, but the nurse stops us just in time. We go inside...

Emma's lying on the bed, looking drained but beautiful, with a perfect baby cradled in each arm.

Next to her is Santi, looking proud. Proud?! How dare he! I hate this bastard. He's ruining my marriage, and now he's replaced me at the birth of MY CHILDREN!

This should be the happiest day of my life, but all I feel is rage. I suppress it as much as I can as I address The Bastard Santi: "Can you give me and my wife some time alone, please?"

The fucker has the audacity to be gracious. "Of course," he smugly says, "Congratulations." He even shakes my hand on the way out. Arsehole.

With him gone, I smile at my wife and our children. "Hey honey. I..." 

I can't help myself. I break down in tears.

***

The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least.

As if it wasn't hard enough dealing with one baby, we of course had two. Natalie and Andrew. Both gorgeous, and both loved completely by their parents.

Fortunately, we had no shortage of helping hands. Cathy had three kids of her own, so was a big help; as was Emma's dad -- a doting grandfather. 

Emma had bounced back remarkably quickly from giving birth, and got a ring piercing in each inner labia just two weeks afterward. She reasoned that, as she shouldn't/wouldn't be having sex for a little while anyway, she may as well make it couldn't.

And as there was no sex to be had, I saw no reason for Santi to be hanging around. I asked him to leave. Emma and I argued long and hard, like we never have before. She said he didn't have anywhere else to go since all his friends and family were back in Gibraltar, but I was sure one of his new bandmates would put him up. Emma pointed out that the time she and him spent together wasn't all about fucking -- but that was precisely my problem.

She thought I didn't trust her. I do, but I can't forget the way I stole her from The Ex-Boyfriend. If she'd done it once...

That may not be fair, but it was what I feared.

My employers were generous, and gave me two weeks paternity leave plus let me take four weeks holiday straight after, so I had the first six weeks at home. Although she was mad at me, Emma was relieved for the help. It also gave her the opportunity to do something she really wanted to do, which was visit the gym four times a week and get really trim.

At the end of my six weeks, she looked better than ever. Her stomach was flat again, somehow avoiding stretch marks, and her waist was slimmer than it had been before she got pregnant. Add to that her new DD breasts, and she could easily be a model. Or a pornstar.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 14



I'd even got used to her brown hair. She kept it the same chestnut colour but let it grow out a little. And she kept the ring in her nose instead of the little stud I preferred, but the 'rock-chick' look was working for her. She wore skintight leather jeans or wetlook leggings, with her black leather biker jacket over a small crop-top, almost all of the time. Her cleavage was permanently on display -- she loved having bigger tits and she wanted everyone to see them.

She was still cute, but with an edge that was a little more obvious. And hot.

Emma made no secret of the fact she wanted another baby, and had stayed off the pill. She'd always wanted at least three kids -- I guess that came from being one of three herself.

On my last day before going back to work, Emma gave me a titjob -- the first sexual contact we'd had in what felt like months. She wasn't ready for full sex yet, but we both knew this was the first step back, and that we'd shortly be trying for baby number 3. It felt like we'd finally put the whole Santi drama behind us.

Part of me was looking forward to going back to work for a rest. What a mistake that was. I stepped back into a maelstrom.

Turns out one of the accounts guys in our French branch had taken offense to being fired, and had broken back into the office to destroy our records and systems. They'd managed to stop him before he got everything, but they wanted me to go over there for a week (maybe two) to get them up and running again.

I argued that there had to be someone else; I had two babies at home and couldn't leave them for that long. But the problem with being so good at my job -- I was the best person to send.

Emma took the news surprisingly well, especially considering I would be away for her birthday. Obviously, she was upset to begin with, but I got her to see that I didn't really have a choice. We definitely couldn't afford for me to be out of work any more.

As I was leaving, she told me to hurry home. She was feeling she'd be ready to have sex again in the next couple of days, and she wanted her first time after giving birth (her "second virginity", as she called it) to be with me.

Then she teased me by saying she wanted to be pregnant before she started slutting around again.

As if I wasn't motivated enough already to hurry back home.

***

The French office was such a mess... I don't even want to talk about it. 

Early mornings and late nights have really taken it out of me. I speak to Emma every day, if only briefly, but it's not until now (part way through the second week) that I've got back to my hotel room early enough to webcam with her.

I don't know what I expected, but I wasn't prepared for the sight that greets me when we connect.

Emma's sat at her dressing table, so I can only see her top half -- but what a half. Her brown hair is pulled back into a messy short ponytail with a few loose strands framing her achingly pretty face, which is made-up like a cheap hooker. Her eyes are heavy and dark with long fake lashes, and... is that a cigarette or a spliff hanging from her gloss red lips?

Her dress -- or at least, I assume it's a dress -- is black latex with red edging (that matches her red lips). It has a high neck with a dominatrix-style buckle, and a large keyhole cut-out that her DD breasts are nearly falling out of.

She doesn't look like a young mother. She looks like a full on fetish queen.

"Wow. Hi. I don't know where to start... I'm stunned," I blather.

She smiles, cooly. "Thank you."

"New outfit? You been shopping?" I ask.

"Well, I thought if you're going to be working so hard to earn all this money, I may as well spend it on something worthwhile... on something we'll both enjoy."

I grin. "I like your thinking."

"I thought you might," she smiles.

"Is that a cigarette?"

"No," she grins wickedly. "How's work going? Will you be home tomorrow?"

"Honey, I'm so sorry, they're making me stay on another three days."

She stubs out the spliff and pouts playfully, but I can tell it's to hide how upset she really is. "You can't miss my birthday."

"I know, I wish there was something I could do. If there was, you know I'd do it."

"I need you."

"Is everything all right? How are the kids?"

"They're fine. It's me. I need dick. I'm so fucking horny, it's driving me crazy." She blinks back tears. "And we need to talk."

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm hard for you too." I show her the hard on tenting my trousers. My heart breaks at how upset she is. "We can talk now, at least."

She nods and smiles weakly. "I want another baby," she says.

"I know."

"I mean, now. I don't want to wait any longer. I want to get pregnant now."

"Ok. First thing we do when I get back, I promise."

She avoids looking at me, chewing her bottom lip. "I... I don't want it to be yours."

"What?!" I splutter. I'm not angry. I'm beyond surprised. Flabbergasted.

"Before, when I thought I might get pregnant by someone else... it made me feel like such a slut. The idea of having a baby by someone other than my husband..." She shivers with erotic energy.

Wow.

"Honey, it's one thing to feel sexy being pregnant with another man's kid, but to actually bring them up... you're asking me to be a father to another man's child."

"No-one else needs to know. It would be our sexy secret. A secret that would turn us on for the rest of our lives."

"It's not fair to the kid."

"How is this different from what you were going to do for me and The Ex-Boyfriend?"

"Of course it's different!"

"How?" she challenges.

I know better than to argue with her when she's in this mood. "Look -- let's think about it, ok? You have to understand this is a huge thing you're asking."

She calms slightly. "Ok. Be back on here, same time tomorrow. Don't be late."

She stands -- oh fuck! It is a dress, and it's so short that I can see up it to the glinting rings hanging from her labia, and... is that a ponytail butt plug!?!

She ends the connection.

***

It's not fair, is it? Time flies when you're having fun, but crawls when you're looking forward to something. It should be the other way around.

Work held me up again, so I don't even have time to change before logging on and...

Oh my fucking God.

Emma's sat in front of the screen, smoking a spliff and looking even more slutty then yesterday. Her make-up is much the same, only even heavier; and she's recoloured her hair -- it's now jet black with a few thin streaks of bright red, and is stylishly dishevelled. She has a new larger nose ring in, and looks every inch a rock slut.

Except, surprisingly, she's wearing her wedding dress. With her tits having grown since she last wore it, they're now spilling over the top and, far from being classy and restrained like they were before, they now look positively indecent.

I can already feel my dick hardening in my trousers.

"Happy birthday, honey. Wow, you're looking incredible. I love you. Have you had a good day?"

She smiles coquettishly. "Hi hubby! I've had the best day -- I've been pampered and spoilt. It's been lovely." She's slurring a little -- I spot a nearly-empty large bottle of her favourite WKD on the dressing table next to her.

"Yeah? What did you get?"

"Cash, mostly. Alex got me..." She sticks her tongue out to display two new tongue studs, each with a logo on the top bar -- they say 'CREAM FILLED' and 'SLUT'.

"Fuck, that's hot," I murmur. 

"I know! Oh, and I got these..."

She stands, and I can see the bed and half the floor is covered in plastic sheeting. What on earth is she planning? Then she lifts her dress to mid-thigh to reveal a pair of black patent just-over-the-knee fetish boots, with a viciously pointed toe, 6-inch thin metal spike heel, and a row of silver buckles running up the side. They're similar to a pair of knee-high boots she already had, but these are more extreme. 

"Wow, they're hot! Who got you those?" I ask.

She avoids my gaze, instead admiring her fuck-me boots. "Santi."

Shit shit shit! I'm immediately on full alert. One question thunders around my head, and I'm not sure I want to ask it. But I need to know...

"He's there, isn't he?"

"May-be," she sings.

"Emma..." I begin, but she cuts me off.

"It's my birthday. Don't you want me to have what I want on my birthday? Don't you love me?"

She pouts and gives me the big puppy-dog eyes. She looks impossibly adorable. 

All I can do is nod.

Her grin is as wicked, and as sexy, as I've ever seen. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement.

"You can come in now," she hollers in the direction of the doorway, and Santi enters carrying a bulging plastic bag.

She leans in to talk to me, and I can't take my eyes from her incredible cleavage. "You know I was going to keep my wedding dress 'for posterity'?"

"I was surprised to see you wearing it."

"Change of plan."

She empties Santi's bag over the floor -- I spot cans and bottles and... are those paint brushes?

Yes. Santi pops open a can of bright red paint and Emma dips a brush in it, before writing SLUT in foot-high letters across the front of her dress.

"Oh my God, honey, what are you doing?" I ask.

"It was Santi's idea. I think it's hot," she smiles naughtily.

"I want to see those boots," Santi grunts. He grabs the bottom hem of her dress and hacks at it with a pair of scissors, cutting a slit up to unveil those sexy boots, past her knee...

"How high?" he asks Emma.

"Higher."

Another cut.

"Higher," Emma urges.

Another cut. The slit reaches about two-thirds up her thigh.

Emma grabs the slit and rips it open, all the way up to her hip. As she moves, I catch a glimpse of the silver piercings in her pussy. "I'm gonna wear this out at Halloween," she says. "Let's make it good."

She grabs a bottle of what looks like strawberry dessert sauce and squeezes a blob onto her dress, right above where her nipple must be. Santi removes it with one long lick of his tongue. They do the same with the other nipple, before Emma dumps the whole bottle over her tits. Then she sticks the nozzle of the cream down her cleavage, and empties the can inside the front of her dress.

Santi buries his face into her chest, hungrily slurping as Emma giggles gleefully. He presses her big boobs up and together until a mess of sauce and cream oozes out, and her pierced nipples pop free.

While he enjoys himself, Emma gets a second can of cream and sprays a line from her tits, up her neck to her mouth, finishing with a little pile on her twice-pierced tongue.

Santi accepts the invitation, taking his time to follow the trail, pausing to give her a hickey, before their tongues twirl together in a sloppy kiss.

I suddenly realise that, in spite of my misgivings, my hand has made its way to stroking my rock hard dick.

She's just too hot.

As Santi goes back to smothering her neck in love-bites, Emma lights another spliff, really seeming to savour the hit. She throws her head back and I hear her mutter, "Mark me, make me yours."

He whispers something in reply that I can't quite make out, but it makes Emma giggle. God, I love that sound. It's somehow sweet and girly, yet erotic and filthy, all at the same time.

She pulls away from him, her neck and shoulder covered in little marks, the top of her dress stained red with strawberry sauce. With a bottle in each hand, she stands in front of her webcam and stares into the lens as she pours chocolate sauce and golden syrup into her mouth, letting it overflow and stream down her neck, tits, and dress.

She massages the sticky mess into her bust while Santi paints something unseen on her back.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Hearing my pet-name, I think she's talking to me for half a second -- but realise she's talking to Santi.

"Let him tell you," he smirks.

Emma turns around so I can see what Santi's painted on her back.

That bastard.

"Well?" Emma says, impatiently.

I read it out loud: "My husband wants you to fuck my arse."

She disintegrates into a fit of giggles and tackles Santi to the bed, then kisses him, and they make out passionately.

He reaches around and unzips her, then tugs the dress down -- their lips locked together the whole time.

Is that...? 

"Is that a new tattoo?" I ask.

I just caught a glimpse of something on her ribs, just below her left breast. Emma's eyes widen like she's been caught, guilty. She tries to break the kiss and hold the dress up, but Santi's persistent and slips the dress over her hips.

Surrendering to his strong grip and the kiss, Emma's turned slightly so I can see...

Holy fuck, are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

Right where I thought it was is a large black outline of a heart, with 'Santi + Emma' written inside it.

"Emma, what the fuck is that!?" I ask.

She twists her head away from Santi's lips, but he doesn't stop and instead nuzzles her neck, holding her body tight on top of his.

"It was a thank you," she (badly) explains.

I guffaw in astonishment. "A thank you? What the hell for?"

"I was so lonely that first night, after you left... He came to stay."

"He's been there all this time?!"

"Yeah, but we haven't fucked or anything... Oh God!" Santi has slipped a finger inside my wife. "Well, he hasn't fucked my pussy anyway..."

"I can't believe it," I say.

"We haven't, I swear! My arse, my mouth, my tits, but not my pussy..."

"I meant the tattoo. I can't believe you'd do that."

"I didn't," she breathes, squirming, still obviously enjoying Santi's attentions. "He did."

"What do you mean?"

She stares back at me, a look of complete lust on her face as Santi pumps two fingers inside her snatch. "I told him he could tattoo anything he wanted anywhere on my body. So he did this himself."

I'm shocked as, out of nowhere, I cum. My spunk spurts into the air, covering myself and splatting a little on my laptop screen. I hurriedly try to clean up, a little perturbed that I obviously found it that hot, and catch Emma's little mischevious grin when she spies what's happened.

"If you like that, you're going to love this," she purrs, and extracts herself from Santi's grasp. She signals for him to get out of the way and she lies on the bed in his place.

With her sexy-boot-clad legs splayed wide, she takes hold of each of her labia rings between her fingers and pulls, so her lips gape open.

She locks eyes with Santi and purrs, "Fuck me, lover."

"NO!" I protest.

Emma speaks to me but watches Santi's cock intently as it lines up at her entrance. "I meant what I said that I wanted you to take my second virginity. But you're never here. He's always here for me."

All I can do is watch as the Gibraltan arsehole pushes his dick into my wife's vagina, her pussy stretching to take a cock inside it for the first time in months. She moans loudly as it slides in and, when he bottoms out, she shivers with a mini-orgasm.

"Oh fuck, these piercings are fucking magic," she mutters.

Slowly, Santi builds up the pace, and Emma moves her hips to meet his thrusts, gazing up into his eyes.

They aren't fucking. They're making love. I know the difference.

They kiss, long and tender.

I feel powerless, and heartbroken, and... horny? 

I'm hard again.

I want to stop them, but I'm going to enjoy watching in the meantime, and I stroke my dick. I wish I was there so I could throw Santi across the room and beat the crap out of him. But would I? Because a part of me is loving this too.

The hurt and the betrayal are somehow spurring me on, but there's something else that has me both worried and harder than ever.

I focus on Santi's unsheathed cock as it pistons in and out of my wife's unprotected pussy.

The worry wins:

"Shouldn't he be using a condom?" I ask.

They don't even seem to have heard me, lost in their smooching and love-making.

"Emma!" I try again. She jumps, seemingly surprised that I'm still there. "Couldn't you get pregnant?"

"I need you to understand what I told you yesterday."

"What?"

"I want another man's baby, and I want that man to be Santi."

The world, the universe, and everything, stops.

Then the words I'd dreaded more than any other. "I love him."

"Emma, you can't, what about..." I'm babbling non-stop angry nonsense, but I don't know how to put these feelings into words.

She sighs frustratedly, pushes Santi off of her, and walks on shaky legs to the camera.

She mutes the volume on their end and whispers so only I can hear, her grey-blue eyes finally betraying some sign of the conflict within her. "Like the tattoo and everything else, it's my body. I love him, he loves me, and we want a baby together -- like I was going to do with you when I was with The Ex-Boyfriend. I want to share this with you, I still want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I'll understand if you don't want to. We'll speak when you get back. I love you. I hope you can still love me too."

She turns back to Santi and gets him to lie on the bed, then climbs on him in reverse cowgirl so that she's facing me.

She points his member at her pierced pussy and lowers herself onto it. I can't hear the moan, but I can see (and almost feel) it. The look of complete pleasure on her face is captivating. Do I really want to deny her that?

As she bounces blissfully on Santi's cock, I find myself gazing at the changes he's made to my sweet slut wife.

The hair is the most blatant. I still prefer it longer and blonde, but she still looks fantastic.

The nose ring was his idea too. Again, I prefer the small simple stud she wore before, but the ring works with the look she's going for (or he's going for). I have to admit it's sexy.

And the tattoo that he actually did. It's actually quite well done; he's got some skill. And the location -- over her heart -- can't have been an accident. I find myself wondering if she'd have really let him do anything. How far would she have gone? Would she have let him tattoo her legs or arms, like she said she doesn't want?

If she was horny at the time, she'd have probably let him tattoo 'SLUT' across her forehead. Oh fuck, I love how submissive she gets.

And despite all of it, all the tattoos and piercings, and the fetish boots and rock-chick hair, she still somehow retains that slight cuteness that drives me crazy.

Crazy enough to be jacking my cock as I watch my wife fuck the other love of her life.

Santi's humping up into her from below now, and I'm hypnotised by the jiggle of Emma's motherhood-enhanced double-Ds.

There isn't anything about her I don't love. I'd do anything for her.

And that's when I finally accept the truth. Not only is it ok if Emma gets pregnant by another man -- the idea of Emma getting pregnant by Santi is a massive turn on.

I catch Emma's eye through the webcam and mouth 'I love you' to her.

She smiles, and orgasms, her ejaculate spraying into the air, some even hitting the webcam. 

And Santi pushes up deep into her and holds himself there, signalling he must be cumming too, which triggers another one for Emma and a second for me. All three of us in ecstasy at the same time, all three of us loving the taboo of Santi's sperm seeking out one of Emma's eggs; of her belly growing bigger with his baby.

This whole thing began with me as the donor. Now it's someone else.

As my orgasm fades, the eroticism dissipates and the painful light of day returns to the forefront of my mind.

Although I can see Emma sucking on Santi's cock, preparing him for a second round, I can't watch anymore, and cut the connection.

I have to get home ASAP.



Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 15



It feels odd, sneaking back into my own house. 

I peek into the bedroom I share with Emma, confirming my suspicions, then continue down the hall to the spare room. I grab the items I need from my toolbox, and return.

I cut off a strip of tape and approach my bed, where Emma and Santi are sleeping. Oh so cautiously, I reach over and stick the tape over Santi's mouth.

He shifts in his sleep, stirring, and I press my Stanley knife against his windpipe.

He starts awake. I signal urgently to him to stay quiet, and stay still.

He does, fear alive in his eyes.

I whisper, eager not to wake Emma who's still curled up beside him, "You are going to leave and you never going to come back. Nod if you understand."

He hesitates. I jam my blade into him, just breaking the skin.

He nods hurriedly.

"You are never going to contact Emma," I continue. "You are going to ignore any and all attempts she makes to contact you."

I pause. He nods.

"I'm going to take my knife away now, and you are going to get your things and get out without a sound. Understand?"

He nods again. I slowly withdraw my knife but don't take my eyes from him. He moves to take the tape from his lips, but I tell him "No!".

I watch like a hawk as he picks up his clothes and slips silently from the room; I follow him to the spare room where he dresses and chucks his stuff into a bag; and I make sure he is out of the house and halfway down the street before I relax.

I fix myself a drink and slump onto the couch. This is going to be tough to explain to Emma.

***

Obviously, she immediately knew I had something to do with Santi's vanishing act. I wasn't going to lie to her, but I wasn't going to confirm anything either. I just blanked all her questions.

The next week was tough. Emma wouldn't speak to me and took to sleeping in the spare room. She was very upset, but I couldn't make it better because I caused it. So I let her know I was there for her, and let her be.

Work kept me busy most days anyway. My employers were pretty pissed I abandoned their crisis, but I told them I had one of my own to deal with at home and they let me off. I was lucky, but knew I wouldn't get a third chance.

I'd hoped Emma and I could build some bridges on Saturday, when I finally got some time off. But she took the twins on a day out with Cathy and her family, and I wasn't invited.

It was all the more painful considering how fantastic she looked when she left. She was dressed head to toe in skintight leather: her short black biker jacket worn over a red top with a plunging neck line; red leather jeans with a silver belt buckle that said "SEXY"; and the black thigh-high fetish boots that Santi got for her birthday.

She came home late afternoon and disappeared upstairs. I made her dinner and she at least ate it at the dining table with me, alternating mouthfuls with drags of her spliff.

This was progress of a kind.

But when I asked her about her day, all she replied was:

"I thought you'd like to know I got my period the other day, so I'm not pregnant."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, which she took offense to, and she stormed back upstairs.

Looks like another night with just the tv for company.

***

I must have drifted off, because I'm woken at 9.30pm by Emma clumping down the stairs.

I stagger out to the hallway to find Emma heading for the front door.

"You're going out?" I ask.

"Alex's team won their big game today. Their post-match parties apparently get pretty messy. I need some fun."

That would explain what she's wearing. Those same fetish thigh-high boots, and Alex's team's rugby jersey that fits her like a very short dress. 

And that's all. Though she has dyed her hair to a dark red to match the jersey, and her make-up is stunningly slutty.

As she slips out the door, she says, "Don't wait up."

SLAM!

Great, and now the babies are crying.

***

Of course I was going to wait up for her. I needed to know she was home safe, and my dick wanted to know if she'd fucked anyone.

But I still drifted off to sleep. A regularly interrupted sleep – the twins demanding feeding, interspersed with nightmares of Emma leaving me for Santi. I keep telling myself that it's good news she hasn't left me yet, but that's little comfort. She still could.

And when I wake up at 7.25am, she still isn't home. I pace about a little, then decide to give her a call.

I hear her mobile ringing upstairs. She didn't take it with her.

Shit.

So I try ringing her brother. Emma answers.

"Hey you."

"Oh, hi honey. Where are you?" I ask.

"Checking up on me?" she teases. She sounds tired, but much happier than she has the past week. "We're having breakfast at Maccy-D's, I'll be home soon, ok?"

"Ok. See you soon."

"Love you!" she chimes, and hangs up.

My heart sings. Maybe everything will be alright after all. Now if only I can convince her to get Santi's tattoo removed...

***

True to her word, a tired Emma arrives home half an hour later. She's dressed the same, but she's freshly showered and her slut make-up has gone. Apart from the fetish boots, piercings, and change in hair colour, she looks just like the lovely girly-girl I first fell for.

"Hi," I greet her cautiously, still a little unsure what kind of mood she'll be in with me.

She smiles warmly, drapes her arms around my neck, and kisses me lovingly. I hold her tight to me – this is as intimate as we've been in such a long time. It feels so good.

"Thank you for not throwing me out," she says.

"Throw you out?!" I'm stunned. "I was worried YOU were going to leave ME!"

"I thought about it," she admits. "I was mad – you started me down this road, and then it felt like you hated me for being like this."

"I could never hate you!" I exclaim. "I was just scared you were you going to dump me for him."

"I get that now." Her smile is sweet; her eyes full of concern. "But you don't need to worry – I vowed to spend the rest of my life with you, and I meant it. I thought you knew that."

"Yeah, but you let him put that tattoo on you..."

"That was for you too. I thought you'd find it as hot as I do."

"It frightened the fucking life out of me!" I laugh.

She giggles, "I'm sorry," and we cuddle. Emma's in my arms and everything is right with the world again.

Well, almost.

I pull back slightly and look her in the eye. "Did you really love him?"

She sighs gently, and whispers, "Yes."

"And you were going to have his baby?"

"Yes. You always liked the idea I could get pregnant from another guy before. In fact, you got me to take the risk when I didn't really want to!"

"I know," I nod. "I'm sorry. It was more that it was with him than anything..."

She kisses me. "It's ok. I actually kinda like that you're jealous."

"You do?"

"Shows you care."

"You can't have ever thought I didn't care about you!?"

"Not really." She smiles again. "Let's go to bed. I'm knackered – I didn't sleep all night!" she winks.

She takes my hand and we go upstairs. "Are you going to tell me about it?" I ask, my dick hardening.

"May-be," she teasingly sings.

We look in on the twins, who are fortunately sleeping soundly; then we head into our bedroom.

I help her take her boots off, taking the opportunity to caress her firm thighs; then pull the rugby jersey over her head.

Her pussy and arsehole are red and swollen, and are still gaping a little. There's also a smattering of hickeys over her neck, shoulders and tits, but at least there's nothing worse than that – no cane or whip marks this time. Her body is as fit and tight as I've ever seen it, and her time at the gym has clearly been well spent.

"God, honey, you're so gorgeous," I gush. "My beautiful, cute and sexy wife."

"Your beautiful, cute and sexy SLUTwife," she corrects, sliding into bed. I slip underneath the covers and spoon her from behind, my solid prick poking between her thighs. "I've been very naughty," she confesses.

"What did you do?" I ask, eager to hear the details.

"You know this next week is the anniversary of our first week together, that half-term? When you first got another guy to fuck me... how you tied me to the bed and made me take him bareback?"

"I don't remember you complaining. In fact, I remember you begging him to cum in you a second time."

She giggles. "I did. Do you know how many guys I've fucked since then?"

"What, including blowjobs and everything?"

"Including blowjobs, titjobs, anal... the lot."

"I dunno," I ponder. She used to go out every week with Leah and did at least one guy every night then; plus she fucked Alex every week, but he's just one guy; plus last night... "Fifty? Sixty maybe?"

"Tonight made it one hundred and thirty-seven."

"A HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN?! You aren't serious?!"

"And not one of them wore a condom," she grins.

"Oh God," I groan, slowly humping into her. "How many guys did you fuck last night?!"

"They actually called a couple of guys back who'd gone home so I could fuck all 22! Plus the two barmen..."

"Hold on – did you fuck your brother in front of all of them?"

She grins wickedly and wiggles her butt into my crotch. "It was so fucking kinky, I came like a fountain!"

"Oh my God."

I reach between her legs and aim my shaft at her snatch. She puts her hand in the way, stopping me.

"Nu-huh," she says. "You don't get my pussy until I'm pregnant."

"You're kidding?"

"No. You can have my bum, though," she says, lining me up with her arsehole.

I push against her sphincter and it gives way far easier than it ever has before, the sure sign of a busy night. She sighs contentedly, and I ease slowly in and out of her, knowing I won't last too long. 

The "Santi + Emma" tattoo stares up at me from the ribs below her tit, so I put my hand over it to obscure it. I'm sure I notice her grin slightly as she realises what I'm doing.

"So, have you got someone in mind to be the father of our child, or are you gonna gangbang til it happens?" I ask.

She giggles. "Last night was too soon. Though there was one guy there..."

"Yeah? What was he like?"

"It doesn't have to be him..." She hesitates. "He was black."

"Oh fuck!" I thrust into her harder.

"I think he liked me. He came in me four times," she breathes. "Imagine how slutty it would be to have a black baby. Everyone would know I'd been fucking around... fucking big black cocks."

She's stroking her clit now – I can hear her piercings clinking together gently.

"I'm close," I warn.

"Cum up my arse, my slutty fucking arse. I want everyone to know what a slut I am." She pulls my hand away from Santi's tattoo. "Maybe I'll let all of them tattoo their name on me. Cover my body with all the people who want me. All the big dicked guys who want to take me away from you..."

"Oh fuck," I groan.

"Yesss," she hisses, and we cum in unison – my seed pumping deep inside, and her ejaculate soaking the sheets. I hold her close, letting the vibrations of her orgasm travel through me, and enjoying how good I've made her feel.

Without another word, she drifts off to a well-earned sleep.

***

The rest of Sunday was a lazy day. Emma slept most of it while I tended to the twins, but when she did wake up, we had a lovely meal and relaxed together in front of the tv like a typical married couple.

Work on Monday was crap, but the evening made up for it. We were snuggled together, catching up on some of our favourite shows, when suddenly she stood up.

"I'm going out," she announced.

"What? Where?"

She grinned wickedly. "I need dick."

She left the room and skipped upstairs, returning only 30 minutes later looking absolutely incredible...

Her red hair has been tousled and curled and falls loose around her shoulders; her eye make-up is heavy and pornstar-like, with long fake lashes, but the rest of her make-up is light and natural looking. She's wearing the thigh-high fetish boots that Santi got her (again – she wears them almost all the time at the moment) over the piece de resistance:

A long-sleeved black latex catsuit. It's oh so tight, shifting and shimmering with every slight movement like a second skin and, as she does a little pirouette for me, I can see the silver zip that runs from the base of her spine, between her legs, and up to her neck. She has it done up quite high at the moment, and the shiny material is stretched so tight over her big boobs that her nipple rings are prominent. Actually, so are the rings in her labia. Fuck, I want her so bad.

I quickly close the distance between us and stick my tongue down her throat. She giggles, and pushes me away.

"Don't go out," I say. "Stay with me."

She gives my dick a little squeeze through my jeans. "Mmm, tempting as that is, I've got a better idea."

She struts to the front door.

"At least tell me where you're going." 

"Not far," she teases.

"Can I come with you?" I sound far too desperate, but it makes Emma smile.

She kisses me, a long gentle smooch. "I won't be long."

I stare after her as she leaves and catwalks down the road in all her latex-clad glory, not caring who sees – or more likely, getting off on who might be watching.

***

After pacing around for a while, fighting back the urge to run after her, I settle down for another excruciating night in front of the tv.

Only I haven't even reached the first ad break yet before Emma returns, with a naughty little grin and her catsuit unzipped far enough to display her outrageous cleavage.

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I immediately recognise the big black guy she's brought back with her.

Emma is almost bouncing with excitement. "Sweetie, this is Tyrone. I'm sure you remember him..."

"...from last Halloween, I remember. Hi." It's The Mobster from the three bulls she fucked last year. The big-dicked monster who aggressively face-fucked her, whipped her with his belt, and made her airtight with his two hulking friends. Emma enjoyed herself so much that, by the morning, she was going to get tattooed to make herself the sex slave of any guy in their gang, and get her tits enlarged to the F-cups that this guy demanded.

And here he is to fuck her again.

Tyrone looks me up and down disdainfully but shakes my hand firmly.

Maybe he's changed. Maybe he isn't really the aggressive bastard I remember from last year. Maybe he was just showing off with his mates around. Maybe...

He slaps Emma's butt, hard. "Let's get to it, bitch."

Maybe not.

Emma interlinks her fingers with his and leads him up the stairs. Unsure what my part is, I follow.

When Tyrone notices me stroll into the bedroom behind them, he looks less than amused. "Oh fuck, we aren't going to have this whining little shit interrupting us again, are we?"

Emma speaks soothingly. "I told you, he's my husband. He can watch if he wants."

He grumbles under his breath, and then, "Alright, but if he pisses me off, I'm throwing him through the window."

"He'll be good," Emma promises. "Won't you, sweetie?

I nod, and perch on the edge of Emma's dressing table. Despite my concerns, I'm already nursing a semi.

Emma's not wasting any more time. She drops to her knees and rips open Tyrone's jeans like it's Christmas morning and she's 4 years old again, tugging them down in one swift motion with his boxer shorts. His stiffening rod bounces and dangles in front of her, enticing her. It looks even bigger than I remember – definitely over 10 inches long and really thick.

Emma gasps, "It's gorgeous,", spits on it, and takes it straight down her throat. Tyrone grabs her head and presses her cute little nose into his closely-cropped pubic hair, holding her still while his dick stretches her gullet.

She stares up into his eyes and, though they start to water, she makes no attempt to move away. Her heavy black mascara begins to run over her high cheekbones as her face turns red. He's suffocating her... I want to leap to her aid, I HAVE to...

He pulls out and Emma gulps in great lungfuls of air, but doesn't let that cock get far away from her. She rubs her face in his balls, licking at them hungrily, then takes his pole back into her mouth and bobs her head wildly, her eyes crazy with lust.

I haven't seen Emma this frantic, this desperate, since the first time with Alex. I resolve not to interrupt them, and trust that Emma knows her limits better than I. If she even has limits anymore.

The frenzied blowjob isn't enough for Tyrone, who again takes her head between his two great hands and fucks her face like it's a pussy. Very fucking hard.

Emma takes it with apparent pleasure, tilting her head back so his cock can reach further down her throat. She links her hands behind her back, submitting to the pounding, as his big balls slap slap slap her on the chin.

Her eyes never leave his.

"Let's get a proper look at these new titties you got," Tyrone rumbles, and he pulls her off his pole and to her feet. While she's still gasping for air, he yanks at her catsuit, the zip giving way down to her pierced navel and her pierced double-Ds bouncing free.

He gropes them roughly, squeezing them and pushing them together. Emma moans.

"Better, but they're still too small. I told you, F-cups, bitch."

"You can still tit-fuck me though," Emma says, almost pleading for his approval.

He pinches and twists her hard nipples, and she grunts and shudders with a mini orgasm.

"Fuck, did you just cum?" Tyrone asks, tugging at her nipple rings, stretching her tit flesh obscenely.

"God, yes," she breathes. "Please let me tit-fuck you."

I see him notice her "Santi + Emma" tattoo. "Santi? Is that you?" he asks me.

I shake my head no.

He laughs. "Fucking pussy."

He lets go of her, and she falls to her knees in front of him.

He slaps her around the face with his cock, several times, hard enough to make a thwack sound each time. Emma seems to enjoy it and giggles.

"You know why I love thigh-high boots?" she purrs, pushing her breasts together to surround Tyrone's cock. "Other than looking sexy as hell and letting everyone know what a slut I am, they protect my kness. And I plan on spending a lot of time on my knees with you."

She moves up and down, wanking his prick with her pierced plump pleasure-pillows, then opens her mouth so she can give him a quick suck on each downward movement.

"Not bad, bitch," Tyrone says. "Considering you got such tiny titties."

He pulls back from her, jacks his cock a few times, and unloads – she opens her mouth wide and sticks her twice-pierced tongue out, but Tyrone seems more interested in painting her pretty features with his spunk. By the time he's finished, her face is covered and his sperm is dripping from her chin down onto her chest.

While Emma's wiping it up with her fingers and licking them clean, Tyrone retrieves a small bag of white powder from his jeans.

"Is that coke?" Emma asks.

"Yeah," Tyrone grunts, and he chops a couple of lines on the dressing table beside me using one of Emma's hairclips.

"Can I have some?" Emma asks.

"Shit, girl, I've not got much left," he grumbles.

"I've never had it before," Emma says. She's using her pleading face that I've never been able to say no to – wide-eyed, innocent, pouting... she looks impossibly adorable. "You can be the first guy to fuck me on it."

He snorts both lines using a rolled up fifty pound note.

"Please? I'll do anything you want," Emma begs.

"You'd do that anyway, slut," Tyrone says, and Emma shrugs with a little grin, accepting the point. Tyrone chops out another two lines. "You gotta do them quick, one after the other."

Emma stands and, smiling nervously, leans over the dressing table, the shine of the catsuit stretching over her pert butt really highlighting her perfect curves.

"Honey, are you sure about this? Cocaine?" I ask.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 15



"I know." She stares at me earnestly, trying to get me to see how badly she wants this. "It's a bit scary, but that's why it's such a turn on." She squeezes my hand and whispers: "I've never been this horny."

Then I see a light-bulb flick on in her head, and she looks back over her shoulder at Tyrone. "How'd you like to be inside me when I do it?" she purrs. Seductively, she unzips the catsuit from the small of her back, round over her crotch, and up to meet the other zip on her flat stomach.

"Shit girl, how much metal have you got in your cunt?" Tyrone exclaims.

"You like?" she teases, wiggling her bum enticingly.

He moves in behind her and Emma spreads her legs wide. She looks incredibly sexy bent over the desk, her fetish thigh-high boots making her lovely legs even longer; her big pierced tits hanging down beneath her; the shiny latex clinging to her tight body; her face glazed with black man's cum; and her back arched to accept Tyrone inside her.

With no ceremony at all, he shoves his fat prick between Emma's pierced labia and deep into her hot, wet hole.

Emma grunts, then moans low and long as Tyrone saws in and out of her stretched pussy.

"Oh fuck, I've missed this. You knew where to find me, why didn't you come back for more?" she asks.

"I got white sluts queuing up for this shit, most better looking and skankier than you, bitch. You ain't nothing special."

There's no way that's true. But I can tell his words stung Emma – she's used to guys fawning over her. Her response is typical of her competitive nature.

She grabs the rolled up fifty and Tyrone pauses inside her as she snorts both lines of the cocaine, collapsing forward onto the desk with a muttered "Oh my God". Tyrone resumes fucking her and she orgasms immediately, a stream of ejaculate forming a puddle on the carpet as she flops about like a rag doll under Tyrone's relentless assault on her cunt.

Her hand searches for mine and holds it tight – I can feel the trembling of her non-stop orgasm and wish that my cock could do that to her. She pants, "Fucking on coke is incredible!"

Tyrone slaps her arse, then again harder.

She lifts her head and looks back at him. "Tell me what to do to be a better slut for you."

"Oh, I will, don't you worry about that."

He withdraws from her and Emma cries out in anguish. He picks her up easily and throws her onto the bed, and she shifts into position on her back in anticipation of getting fucked missionary.

But Tyrone has other ideas. He picks up the nearly-empty bag of coke and empties half of the remaining amount into a line on his cock. Emma doesn't wait to be asked, and eagerly snorts the white powder from the black rod.

"Now I get why people do drugs," she says. "This is fucking amazing!"

Tyrone grins, a kind of "now I've got you" grin.

I was worried beforehand but pushed past it because I thought it would be something she'd try once and that would be it. Now I realise how naive that was. Now I'm properly frightened for her.

As Emma licks and sucks Tyrone's dick, trying to get every last grain of coke, he holds two of his fingers out like a spoon and empties the remaining cocaine onto them.

"Lie back on the bed and hold your cunt open," he orders.

Emma gleefully obeys, using her labia rings to spread her lips wide. Tyrone kneels in front of her and pushes his coke-covered fingers into her gaping cunt, then finger-fucks her hard.

Emma cums, Tyrone burying his face into her crotch to slurp down the powerful jet of her juices.

He licks his lips, "I fucking love squirters," and, without giving Emma an opportunity to recover, pulls her so her butt is at the edge of the bed and shoves his fat cock into her dripping snatch.

"Oh God, fuck me!" she cries out. I can't tell if her shaking is from the force of her orgasm, or the power of Tyrone hammering into her.

They both grunt at every thrust as he pounds into her like a machine.

Then, suddenly, he stops.

"We're leaving," he says and, with his cock buried deep inside my wife, lifts her up so that he's standing with his prick impaling her. She wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carries her from the room.

"Where are you going?" I ask, following them.

"To see how slutty she really wants to be."

Down the stairs... out the front door...

Tyrone sets Emma down in the middle of our front lawn – she gets on all fours, ready and willing for him. 

I stand in the doorway, unsure what to do. If our neighbours don't see them, they're surely going to hear, because Emma isn't quiet when she says:

"I want you to fill me up with your cum."

This might be the most brazenly slutty thing she's done in public. In the front garden of the house she shares with her husband, on a fairly busy road, wearing a black latex catsuit and fetish thigh-high boots, her face plastered in cum, her pierced tits hanging out, the four piercings in her pussy open for all to see... and a hulking black man pushing his cock into her cunt.

There's no hanging about – he goes on full attack, slamming into her and slapping her butt continuously. The sex sounds and moaning echo around the street.

I spot a couple of curtains twitching.

Shit, what if they call the police? How the hell do I explain this?

I can hear Emma muttering over and over again, "Knock me up. Give me your black baby. C'mon, do it."

I'm pretty sure she can't be fertile again yet, but that doesn't seem to matter.

Tyrone stabs two fingers into Emma's arsehole, and she orgasms loudly. Her arms collapse and her legs give way, but Tyrone holds her up and continues pounding into her. 

Then...

"YES! CUM INSIDE ME!" she screams for the whole world to hear, and she squirts again as Tyrone empties his balls into her unprotected womb.

I watch them ride out their respective orgasms and silently urge them to recover quickly. They need to get out of sight as soon as possible.

Finally, Tyrone pulls out of Emma and a stream of his spunk flows out of her. He gives her bum one last slap and they stand, Emma looking particularly shaky on her legs.

Without a word, they push past me to get back inside, and a moment later Tyrone reappears with his pants and Emma is dangling her keys from her fingers. She's avoiding my gaze, obviously not wanting to talk right now.

They jump into her car and speed away, in the direction of the club where they met. I'm left to wonder if they're off to find the other two from last Halloween.

***

The police never did arrive – I guess my neighbours took pity on me.

Not surprisingly, Emma didn't come home on Tuesday so I had to call in sick to stay home with the twins. And on Wednesday, my father helped out by looking after them. He had questions about where Emma was that I just didn't know how to answer. So I didn't.

While at work on Wednesday, I got a call from my parents asking if they could take Emma and I out for dinner on Thursday evening. They were going to a show nearby in the afternoon, so thought they'd come over to visit afterward. I cautiously said yes. I didn't know what state Emma would be in.

And when I got home Wednesday evening, I was in for a little series of surprises, both good and bad...

I find Emma alone and naked at her dressing table, slutting herself up to go out.

"Hi honey. Wow, you're back as a blonde!" Her previously red hair is back to a dirty blonde colour, and is tied into a loose ponytail. It looks great.

"Hey sweetie. Yeah, Tyrone likes his sluts to be blonde. How was work?"

"As much fun as normal. So you're his slut now?" I ask, moving into the room and... "What the fuck is that?!"

Emma looks guilty, as well she might, but she also can't help a naughty little smile. "It's my new tattoo."

On the back of her neck, in one-inch-high ornate letters, are the initials BCS. Black Cock Slut.

I'm too stunned to be angry. "I can't believe you actually did it."

Finishing her bright pink lip gloss, she turns to face me, sitting me on the edge of our bed. "Tyrone took me to see his brothers. Y'know I said I wanted two brothers in my cunt at the same time...?"

"You didn't?!"

A wicked grin. "And his older brother in my butt. I thought they were going to split me open, but I came and came and came... Listen – I need you to understand something." She takes my hand. "I can't say no to him."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"I thought you couldn't say no to me?"

Her only answer is a little shrug.

I gulp and stare into her beautiful grey-blue eyes. "What if he asks you to leave me?"

"It won't come to that."

"What if it does?"

"He wouldn't, ok? I'm just another slut to him."

"That's not true..." I protest, but she stops me.

"Hey, it's ok. I like it that way." She grins and picks up her dress for the evening – what we call her bridesmaid dress. "That's what the tattoo's about. Even he couldn't stop the others from fucking me if they wanted to."

I watch her wiggle her lithe body into the tiny pink latex tube, then pull it up and down trying to cover all her goodies. This is the first time she's worn it since her boobs grew, and with her areolas only just covered, from my position sat on the bed in front of her, I catch occasional glimpses of the silver rings hanging from her labia. 

"But you can't stop them either, can you?"

"Why would I want to?" she grins.

"What if you were out with the twins? Or with your family? Can you imagine your dad's reaction if..."

"They know to be subtle about it if we're with someone, they're not animals. Well, not out of bed anyway!"

As she slides her delicate feet into her Jimmy Choo patent nude leather pointy toe pumps with a 4.5-inch stiletto, I stare at the new tattoo. 

"I just can't believe you didn't talk to me about it first."

She sighs. "Sweetie, we already had spoken about it. I knew how you felt, but in the end, it's my body. You already stopped me from seeing Santi – you can't keep changing the rules. When we started all this, I did it for you, and I warned you what could happen. Now, I love living like this, and you'd better get on board with it, cos it's only going to get worse."

Worse?! How the fuck could it get worse?

I'm still staring at the BCS on the back of her neck, desperately searching for a silver lining.

"At least you can cover it if you wear your hair down," I say.

She doesn't respond – instead, a small bag of white powder suddenly appears in her hand. She empties it onto her hand mirror and chops it into four lines.

"Is that something else he wanted you to do?" I ask.

"No – this is something I want to do. Scary things turn me on. That's why I came so hard fucking in the front garden. Then I get scared how horny I am, and that turns me on even more... it's a vicious circle. The further I go, the further I want to go."

"Honey..."

"I don't need the speech, ok?" she says, smiling in appreciation of my concern but still frustrated with me. "I could have hidden this from you pretty easily, but I chose to include you. Why don't you try some?"

"No thanks."

"Good – more for me!"

I consider momentarily doing some so that she doesn't have as much for herself, but that's a pretty weird way of trying to protect her.

She snorts the first two lines quickly, one after the other. I mentally scramble for something to take my mind off how happy she looks right now.

"My parents want to take us out for dinner tomorrow night. Is that ok with you?" I ask.

"Should be," she says. "I'll check and let you know."

That means she needs to check with Tyrone. 

I need a break from this right now. I head downstairs, hearing her snort again, and put the tv on.

A few minutes later, she pops in and gives me a quick kiss goodbye. "I love you," she says, and hurries out the door.

In spite of myself, I go to the window and watch her stru down the road, looking absolutely sensational. The sophisticated sexiness of the Jimmy Choo heels somehow makes the rest of her outfit look even more slutty – like she's a high-class girl choosing to dress this way instead of being a cheap whore desperate for money.

It's with some confusion that I realise my dick is rock hard.

***

Of course, she wasn't home Wednesday night. Thursday morning, I dropped the kids off with Emma's dad – he was going to babysit all evening as well, which was a little blessing in a day from hell. Work was shit, and now I'm running late. I won't even have time to change before we go out for dinner.

I say 'we', but I'm not entirely certain Emma's even going to be at home waiting for me.

"Emma?" I shout as I walk in the front door.

"Up here," I hear from the direction of the bathroom.

"Are you ready, it's nearly time to go?" I say as I traipse up the stairs.

The bathroom door is open, and the sight that greets me home is staggering.

Emma is kneeling in the tub in a strapless black leather dress and boots, seemingly enjoying the stream of Tyrone's piss that is filling her mouth. It overflows and trickles down her neck, so she swallows to be able to eagerly accept another mouthful... which she again swallows.

With an evil grin, Tyrone is filming her on his phone.

I never thought she'd degrade herself like this.

As the flow turns to a dribble and stops, Emma takes his cockhead in her mouth, earnestly licking it clean.

Tyrone rudely shoves her off him, stuffs his snake back in his jeans, and pushes past me without a word.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Emma shouts after him, her desperation almost pathetic.

I step forward and help her out of the bath. I don't even know what to say about this latest display of depravity, so I find something else to talk about.

"You cut your hair again." Her light blonde locks are now in a short, shaggy, dishevelled style that falls no further than her high cheekbones. It looks great on her.

"I didn't want it getting in the way of my new tat."

Oh. Of course.

She moves to the sink and washes her face. I look her up and down, enjoying how good she looks.

The skintight strapless black leather dress is like a long-ish tube dress, with a zip that runs the full length down the back, and I'm relieved that it isn't as slutty as most of her wardrobe. Her cleavage is pretty demure, and the matt leather skirt reaches down to just above her knees, although there is a slit that runs two-thirds of the way up her thigh. Reaching up underneath the hem of her dress, but low enough to show a little skin through the slit, is the stretchy shiny leather of her black thigh-high boots with a pointy toe and 5-inch stiletto heel. They're the boots I got her on our first adventurous weekend together – it seems like a lifetime ago.

I can't not mention what I've just seen. "So you're doing watersports now?"

"Seems so," Emma answers. She unzips the dress from the bottom hem up to her bum, and spreads her legs to display her gaping pierced pussy and the metal plug stuffed inside her arse. "Would you like to feel how wet it made me?"

She grabs a towel and dries herself, and wipes the dress down – an advantage of leather, I guess.

"What time do we need to leave for dinner?" she asks, lowering the zip again so it just barely covers her pert butt cheeks.

"In about five minutes," I reply. "Shall I let them know we'll be a bit late?"

"No, I just need to redo my make-up and I'm ready."

She struts from the bathroom, with me following, and sits at her dressing table. Her whole outfit shifts and shimmers with every move, highlighting her amazing curves.

"You're wearing that to dinner with my parents?"

"What? It's not that bad." She re-applies her eye-shadow – not too heavy, but still smokily-sexy.

"Would you wear that to see your dad?" Her nipple rings are obvious indentations in the shiny material.

She giggles. "Tyrone wants me to wear it."

"What about what I want?" I ask.

She shrugs dismissively.

"Can't you wear something over it? Something to at least cover that damn tattoo."

She purses her lips and paints them with a dusky pink lipstick.

"I want everyone to see the tattoo. That's the point of it," she says.

She stands and kisses me. At least she's replaced the rock'n'roll ring in her nose with a delicate stud, and changed her "cream filled" and "slut" tongue piercings for one that says "princess" and another in the shape of a heart.

I reach around and lower the zip on the back of her dress to a more decent level.

We stare into each other's eyes. "What happened? You used to love all this," she asks.

Her question has me struck dumb. Is she right? I mean, I know she's going further than she used to, but is it so far from what I used to encourage her to do?

"I don't know," I reply.

She checks the time, and picks up her small black leather clutch bag that matches her outfit perfectly. "We have to go. We'll talk later, ok?"

***

Fortunately the restaurant's close to home so we arrive only a couple of minutes late, and mum and dad already have a table. Dad's eyes nearly bug out when he sees Emma.

We say our hellos, and catch up. The waiter comes to take our drink order, and my mind immediately starts racing – he's black. As he circled the table, there's no way he could not have seen Emma's BCS tattoo.

But what are the chances that he'd be part of the gang that know the meaning of the initials? I try to relax.

But dad noticed the tattoo. "So what's that mean, on the back of your neck?" he asks. "BCS?"

"Oh," Emma says, smiling in my direction, "It's one of his little sayings for me – Beautiful, Cute, Sexy."

"That's nice," my mum says.

"Yeah, he wanted me to get it," Emma grins, and squeezes my hand.

Not strictly true.

The waiter returns with our drinks and takes our food order, standing behind Emma the whole time. He doesn't notice me watching him and his regular little glances at the back of her neck.

My heart starts beating a little faster.

When's he going to make his move?

He knows what the tattoo means. He can see how hot Emma is, he'll obviously want her. 

I'm on full alert, and am eagle-eyed when he brings our food. As he leans over to put Emma's burger in front of her, I think I catch a slight whisper over the background music and chatter – and Emma definitely heard it. She spots that I've noticed something has been said, so quickly acts like nothing has happened.

We eat. Well, everyone else eats, I just sort of pick at my chicken and leek pie. It's nice, but my stomach's full with butterflies. Emma and I exchange tiny meaningful glances throughout, and she can barely suppress her naughty grin.

The waiter's in a hurry to clear our plates away, and I overhear only one word of his whispered command to Emma – 'gents'. While dad's commenting on the great service, Emma excuses herself and totters to the toilets.

The waiter follows moments later.

I'm so tempted to excuse myself too – not to stop them, but to watch. My understanding is that Emma has to do whatever he wants. A blowjob? A titjob? If he wants to fuck her, he surely won't be able to resist her arse if he finds the butt plug...

This really is a special kind of torture.

And then I start to worry about how long she's taking. It's been eight minutes already. 

My parents and I are running out of small talk.

Mum glances at her watch.

After what feels like an age, Emma struts back to the table. There definitely seems to be an extra bounce in her step; she's doing a bad job of hiding her naughty grin; and she's freshly spritzed some perfume on herself, surely to hide the smell of sex.

"Sweetie, don't you need to be up early tomorrow?" she asks me.

"Er, yeah," I mumble, playing along. "Bloody work. We should make a move."

Dad insists on paying (like usual), and we say our goodnights. As we walk out, I quickly pull the zip of Emma's dress back down a bit – it was showing the lower curves of her bum. I think I got it before mum or dad noticed.




Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 15



Back in the car, I can only wait until we're back on the main road before asking: "So that tat got you some action tonight?"

Emma smiles wide. "I knew you noticed!"

"What did you do? Or should it be 'what did he do to you?'?"

"He bent me over one of the sinks and fucked me from behind."

"You didn't go in a cubicle?!"

"No! That's why I was in a hurry to get us out of there – some old guy came in, and he didn't look too impressed. I was sure he was going to complain."

She pulls the dress up around her waist and dips her fingers into her wet and swollen pussy.

"He came inside you, didn't he?" I ask.

"I had to beg him to! He wanted to fuck my arse."

She licks her fingers clean.

"You're such a slut," I tell her, shaking my head, but smiling in spite of myself.

"Yes I am," she beams. "Um, you know tomorrow's Halloween?"

"You're going out with Tyrone." Not a question, because I already knew the answer.

"And the others from last year. Like an anniversary!"

"What about our anniversary?" I ask. "Are you going to be around on Sunday so we can celebrate?"

She takes my hand. "Of course. We'll do something nice, just the two of us."

I can't wait.

***

We get home and, though I miss the twins, it's nice to think we'll be able to have an uninterrupted night's sleep.

I get into bed and nurse my hard-on while waiting for Emma to dry her hair after showering. She's sat at her dressing table, completely nude. 

I could watch her forever.

Finished, she turns and smiles at the tent my dick's making of the sheets. "Does hubby like seeing his little black cock slut naked?"

She slides into bed and sinks her mouth onto my cock, swirling her pierced tongue around my pole. She bobs up and down a few times, and I unload my sperm down her throat. She swallows it all with a little smile and a sexy lick of the lips.

"I'm so lucky to have you," I say.

"I'm the lucky one!" she says, lying next to me so I can spoon her. "To have such an amazing husband, who's so handsome and loving and understanding. I was sure you'd go mad when you found me and Tyrone tonight."

"I still can't believe you drank his piss," I say, wrapping my arm around her.

"I'll drink yours too, if you like?"

"I don't want to piss on you. It's more like something you'd do to someone you hate. I love you."

"Still?"

I'm surprised she'd doubt it. "Of course, always. I worship you. You're perfect."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

A pause. She bites her lip, nervously.

"We went to see his plastic surgeon today."

I don't respond.

"We were looking at going to an H cup."

I'm horrified. I slide my hand up from her stomach to gently cup her breast.

"Please don't. You're perfect."

"I could be more perfect."

"I'm begging you not to do it."

No answer. I wait in silence for the longest time, until I hear the change in breathing that signals she's asleep.

I wish it would come that easily for me.

***

As I leave for work the next morning, Emma warns me that she might have gone out before I get home from work.

So I make an extra effort to get back early.

And I'm glad I did. Emma's almost ready to go, and she looks sensationally slutty, with heavy make-up and her hair stylishly tousled.

She's wearing her wedding lingerie – a white mesh and lace corset, with ruffles around the breasts and hips; suspenders holding up white stockings; and white patent thigh-high boots with a 5.5-inch stiletto. She's forgone the thong. Her tits were pushed up into a delectable shelf when we got married, but now the corset cannot hold her glorious double-Ds and her hard pierced nipples poke over the top.

She puts on the final touch of the dress – as ruined by her and Santi, but now with added graffiti. As well as the stuff that was on there before ("SLUT" on the front, and "MY HUSBAND WANTS YOU TO FUCK MY ARSE" on the back), there's now "FUCK ME HARDER", "FILTHY WHORE", "HURT ME" and "PISS SLUT" painted across it in big red letters. 

As she smiles and walks toward me, the slit (cut by Santi to reveal her thigh, and ripped higher by Emma up to her hip) parts to show her pierced pussy.

"You really are going out like that?" I ask, kind of surprised but not really.

She kisses me. "I'm so wet right now."

"I can see."

She giggles, just as there's a pounding at the front door. She quickly turns and snorts the final of what must have been several lines of coke from her dressing table, then hurries downstairs.

"Don't wait up."

I'm getting used to playing this game.

***

She wasn't back the next day, which wasn't a surprise. But when she didn't turn up on our anniversary, I became worried. After five days, I was ready to call the police.

I'd hung out at the place Emma had first met the guys, but there was no sign of any of them. I asked around, but just got told 'they'll be busy'.

So, after day eight, why was I still yet to call the police? I was frightened for her, but I trusted her. And I knew that, if the police were to get involved and actually find her, word would get out and she would be fired from her school.

On day ten, I began to think she'd actually left me for them; that I wouldn't see her again, except when (if?) she wanted to see our children. My excuses to her family were running out. I was going to have to tell them the truth soon.

On day thirteen, I notice an official looking letter in the mail from her school, so I open it. She's been fired for her "outrageous conduct". That's it, maybe I should call the police.

I actually have the phone in my hand when the doorbell rings. I hurry to it, just in time to see a black van speeding away, and to find Emma standing unsteadily in front of me in just her white thigh-high boots and a big white sheet. She looks terrible – too thin, and pale, and bruised.

She smiles weakly and croaks, "I'm sorry."

I help her inside and lead her toward the living room, but she whispers, "Bedroom, please," so I carry her up the stairs and lay her on our bed.

"Where have you been?" I ask, trying in vain to keep the hurt from my voice.

"Listen," she says, taking my hand, "They filmed everything and they're gonna send the dvd to you. You should watch it before we talk. Ok?"

Her grey-blue eyes stare into mine, and I've never seen her so serious. Or worried. And is that embarrassment too?

"But..." I protest.

"Go," she says.

I'm upset and angry, but I know now isn't the time for an argument – she can barely keep her eyes open, and is asleep before I'm out of the room.

I stand and watch her for a while, happy to have her back, but worried all over again about what I'm going to see on that dvd.

***

We were both true to her request. She was back, but it was like we were living separate lives. To her credit, she stayed home and took sole care of the twins, and her strength seemed to return quickly.

But I was getting impatient again. I had to wait five more days until the package arrived. Only it isn't a dvd.

It's a boxset of 6 blu-ray disks.

There's a letter included – they're going to release the footage in a series of films for sale online, entitled 'Black-Breeding Slut Emma'. What they'd sent me was all of it, not split up into the chapters they were going to sell or overly edited.

You can get 9 hours of HD video on a blu-ray – there's up to 54 hours of her fucking here?

I go to tell Emma. "It's arrived."

"Watch it, all of it, then we'll talk," she says.

"You don't want to watch it with me?"

With sad eyes, she shakes her head.

I go back downstairs, and with a hell of a lot of trepidation, some curiosity, and a hardening dick, I settle down in the lounge. This is going to take some time.

What follows is the most incredible thing I've ever seen, or will ever see.

It begins with Emma standing in front of the camera, exactly as she was when she went out on that Halloween evening. She explains to the audience that she's a black cock slut, married to a wonderful white man, and that she wants a black baby. And she's willing to do anything.

I recognise Tyrone's voice from behind the camera talk about a safeword, but Emma won't let him tell her what it is. There's a rumble of laughter, and Tyrone tells her she's "asked for it now".

There's one more thing before they begin, Tyrone explains. Emma's going to get a tattoo from each person that fucks her – a small black spade (like from an ace of spades playing card) on her right arm, starting on her shoulder and working down.

I don't like that one bit. It suddenly occurs to me that Emma's been wearing long sleeves ever since she got back.

Shit.

On screen, Emma seems happy enough with it – in fact, she looks very fucking horny. And she urges them to get started.

She's immediately surrounded by seven huge black members, and they are not gentle with her. Within ten minutes of the start, her face is being fucked, and both her pussy and arsehole are being fisted.

And that's just the beginning.

As Emma asked, I watch all of it. I take nap breaks, but don't stop for food – I watch whilst eating. 

I can't list everything they did to her, but here are the depraved high(low?)lights:

She gets two black dicks at the same time in her pussy, and then in her arse, and eventually in both at the same time.

She takes a lot of cocaine, mostly snorted or licked off hard dicks or stuffed inside her pussy.

One night, she's taken to the classroom she teaches from at her school, and is royally fucked on every desk. Her whiteboard is decorated with descriptions of how slutty Miss Heart is, and the name of every person to have fucked her that evening (including a few students who are cheeky enough to wear their school uniform), and Emma signs it – this would have to be why she was fired.

She's tied to a specially-designed table where she's laying face down, getting her cunt fucked from below, while guys beat her arse with a variety of whips and canes. They stub cigarettes out on her body and her tongue, using her mouth as an ashtray.

They see what strange items they can stuff inside her. This includes, but is not limited to: a wine bottle; a mix of fruit and veg; sixteen lit candles; and a beer can which disappears inside her completely before she pushes it back out.

They take her to a sex shop. Patrons are allowed to fuck her anyhow, and with anything, they like, as long as no white dick goes in her cunt. At one point she has three buzzing vibrators in her pussy; a double-ended dildo down her throat (the other end of which is being fucked by some fat bitch customer); and both hands of an attractive, petite brunette plunging in and out of her arsehole.

They put a second piercing in her belly button; and a tattoo on her flat stomach, just above her groin – it's made to look like a red ink stamp with two-inch-high letters, and will be obvious with any bikini or cropped top. It reads 'SLUT'.

She admits to fucking her brother, and to wanting to be DPd by her bro and dad while she eats her little sister out (that I'd like to see).

She lets many guys piss on her, drinking it up as much as she can. She gives rimjobs, and even does some scat (that I refuse to go into detail about).

She's tied up, spat on, slapped, written on, soaked in cum... generally mistreated for the entire running time.

And she was almost always begging for more, for her next orgasm, and for them to cum inside her and knock her up with a black baby. She took everything they threw at her. She was insatiable.

I can't tell you how many times I came watching it, but my dick is sore from masturbating by the time the final credits roll. The post-credits sequence shows the tiny tattoos all down her right arm, claiming there are 159 of them. If I hadn't watched the whole thing, I wouldn't have believed them, but that number isn't impossible.

Slowly, I walk upstairs.

Emma's sat on our bed, watching tv. She's wearing low-riding black leather jeans with 5 diagonal zips down each thigh; black leather pointy-toe Louboutin ankle boots with a 5-inch heel; and a baggy blue jumper with a wide neck that falls off her left shoulder. This is now her idea of relaxed clothing.

I love it.

I walk up to her and take her by the hand. I give it a little squeeze, then shift her jumper so it falls off her right shoulder instead of her left – unveiling a smattering of little tattoos over her shoulder. I roll her sleeve up her arm, revealing the tiny spades from her wrist all the way up.

"Is the number they said on the film correct?" I breathe.

"What did they say on the film?" she asks. She's looking at me carefully, trying to tell if I'm angry or not.

"A hundred and fifty-nine."

She pauses and closes her eyes, then nods. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I whisper.

She looks at me, surprised.

"Did you enjoy it?" I ask her.

She nods.

"That's all that matters."

She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me fiercely, and I can feel the enormity of her love. I push her back on the bed, lying on top of her, and we make out like teenagers.

Eventually, we pause for breath. I run my fingers over her decorated arm, skipping from spade to spade. I know we both said we didn't want her to get tattoos on her arms, but the meaning behind this one is very fucking sexy.

"One of these tattoos is the father to our next child," Emma whispers.

"Are you sure you're pregnant?" I ask.

"I'm late," she purrs. "Which means you can fuck me now, if you still want to?"

I tear her jumper off, eliciting a giggle from her, and stop to get a closer look at the new tattoo on her front. It sits perfectly above the top of her leather jeans.

"Fuck, that's hot," I breathe.

"You like your wife being marked like that?" she teases.

"God yes."

"Next time we go shopping together, I'm gonna wear a short top and these jeans, so everyone can see it. Everyone will know."

I growl, my animal instinct taking over. I rip her high-heeled boots off and tug the tight jeans off her legs, then undress myself in a new record time.

I move on top of her. Somehow, my dick is hard again and, as I line my rock hard pole up with her pierced slit, she says:

"I'm gonna get the BCS tattoo removed."

I breathe a silent sigh of relief, but give her a dubious look. "You aren't going to stop fucking around though, are you?"

"You know me too well! No, it's just... I want a little more control. I'm not saying I'm not going to lose control again, but..." Her eyes tear up as she stares into mine. "I'm sorry I missed our anniversary."

I kiss her, gently. "It's ok," and I push into her.

We both moan. She's pretty stretched out; her pussy isn't as tight as it used to be. But the reason for that is erotic in itself.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you too."

I slowly ease in and out of her.

"Did they show the bit where we went to the plastic surgeon?" she asks.

"No," I say, surprised. I was sure I didn't miss anything.

"Probably because I didn't go through with it. As you can tell!"

"What changed your mind?" I ask.

"You didn't want me to do it," she says. 

I kiss her, and slightly speed up my movements. But we're not fucking; we're making love.

"So you fucked more guys in those two weeks than you had in the whole 12 months before?" I ask.

"Yesss," she hisses, rubbing her pierced clit. "I want to get gangbanged again."

"When? Soon?"

"This weekend. Maybe I'll go see Alex's rugby team again. Maybe I'll let the other team join in too."

"Oh God," I mutter, feeling my orgasm bubbling.

"But I'll come home to you," she promises, staring into my eyes. "I'm yours, forever."

"I'm gonna cum," I warn.

"I'm right there with you," she pants, and we orgasm simultaneously, our bodies and souls together as one, even our vibrations and trembles in perfect rhythm. I kiss her, long and powerful and passionate, until we both come back to earth – a place that seems so much better for her being a part of it.

I feel myself getting emotional and a little teary. "I love you so much," I tell her.

"I love you too."

I pull out and lie beside her, and we kiss and cuddle. I stroke her belly, surely impregnated with a black baby. And you know what? I don't mind. In fact, I'm as happy as I've ever been.

"I've been thinking," she says as we snuggle together, "Now I can't work as a teacher, maybe I could sell some vids myself."

"What, you mean like 'Black-Breeding Slut Emma'?"

"Not quite. There are websites where you can sell clips of yourself, y'know, short vids you've done yourself. Doesn't have to be fucking, it can just be teasing and that. And there are some for like special fetishes, like pregnancy and that."

"Sounds interesting," I say. "Would you take requests from your millions of adoring fans?"

She giggles. "I'm putting you in control. I'll do anything they ask, if you let me."

My slut again. Sounds perfect.