0 comments/ 11259 views/ 0 favorites Compulsive By: cortnymarie It was Tuesday, and everyone knows that Tuesday is a great day to buy books. I am what some would call a bookworm, others would just say I have a rare form of LOCD, literary obsessive compulsive disorder. By my own account, I am a collector. My house is my evidence; it is full of books. I own fifteen four-shelf bookcases. My coffee table is made of books and an old door; in fact, the majority of my furniture is made of books. My bathtub... is not made of books, but is surrounded by them. My house smells like a library, you know the smell, that deep musk that resounds through your olfactory. I think history must smell just like an old book. There are fifteen bookstores that I frequent and the owner of each knows my name, and each understands my obsession. Maybe they take comfort in knowing someone else who has the physical toe tingling need to immerse themselves in books, or maybe they like knowing someone else who would rather live a lifetime of generic brand mac and cheese in order that they might someday own the entire Hardy Boy series. Once I had a dream that I had a swimming pool, and the pool was filled with books. I'm not sure what that means other than I really like books. On this particular Tuesday I am wearing a pair of butch snake skin pants and a low cut white femmey t-shirt. I notice that I feel particularly college-like with my Starbucks filled mug and black stocking cap which I tuck in my backpack as I enter "Tequila Mockingbird," a bar slash book store. The two eternal college greats come together in an old, tined ceiling, ancient woodworked building. The smell in this store is unlike any other I know; its a mixture of stale beer and old paper. "Joe," I say, acknowledging the burly man who acted as bouncer and identification checker. I couldn't come to this store legally until this last summer. I think I am the only person that has gotten a fake to buy a copy of Moby Dick. "Honey," he says, tipping his imaginary hat over his bald head. He motions his large arms toward the glass door, I don't really have to show my ID here anymore. I push open the door. A Jane Monheit song drifts through the store and I begin my search to the sway of the soft jazz. The bottom level of the store is deserted except for a girl with pink hair arranging a display of magazines. In my book travels, I always start in the back and work my way to the front, and just for the record, this also happens to be my technique for seducing women. I seduced my current girlfriend, who is nothing short of a walking miracle on two lesbian legs, with this very technique. Mockingbird's building is located in an industrial area of Chicago and my mind drifts between the makeshift wooden and cinder block shelves inside to the faint sound of steel on steel outside. I run my fingers along the bindings, the rough skins leave dust tracks on my tips. There are picture frames and bumper stickers interspersed between the droves of Woolf, Kafka, and Wolfe. During the next hour, I browse my way shelf by shelf, aisle by aisle, through the fiction to the non to the poetry to the miscellaneous. I am careful, but not so careful that I won't be able to enjoy my next trip to this store. I harvest four books from the field of golden shelves and then make my ceremonial walk up the dark stained wooden stairs to begin reading Venus Envy, a homoerotic gods and goddesses story set in the South. As I ascend, I immediately see a man and a bin, the bin and the man's arms are both full of books, the bin is new, the man is not. I notice four important things. First, he looks about forty, and second, his socks do not match. Third, I see the beginning of a comb over start to happen, and most importantly, I am attracted to him. He is wearing a loose sweater over a white t-shirt, some kind of khaki pants that are just a smidgen too short, bottomed off with a horrible pair of brown shoes. And I'm just guessing here, but those shoes look older than I am. By definition, I am a big dyke, even my grandmother knows. But by trade, I am a flaming bisexual. I am rarely attracted to the men folk, but when I am, I tend to make an attempt to pay attention to the attraction, ugly shoes and all. I lay my books down on an emerald circa 1963 couch and go to him, to the bin. I smell his coffee and musk as the music turns to some indie rock sounding guitar riff. "If you see a Catch-22, let me know," he says, not looking up. I nod, fall in love, and begin to dig into the mounds of books, bending over so my cleavage is obviously visible, because I'm not above using this womanly power. I cough loudly when he still doesn't look up. He laughs with me. "Did you want me to ask you something?" I tell him my name as I fall farther in love. "Molly dear, I'm Kirk," he says. "What's your real name Kirk?" I joke. "Kirk," he says, straight faced. I am a nerd. Must recover, must recover, I think. I look down, grab a hard backed copy of Heller and place it on the pile of books in his arms. He smiles. I walk back to the green couch and he follows in self assured strides like a found puppy dog high on leg humping lust. We sit, I cross my snake-skinned legs, he sighs, I sigh, its all so very tense. I begin to imagine what I think he is imagining, and I am deeply disturbed by his naughty little school girl fantasy. So I scoot closer and open my book as he opens Catch-22. I stare at the fuzzy first page of black on white and wait for him to say something. "You drink?" he asks as he casts his nonchalant words to seemingly no one. He flips another page. I offer my coffee cup and a smile. He takes the cup from me, grabs his own, and strides to the bar. I nervously smooth my pants and hum to the familiar sounding music, trying to get into the book I have open on my lap. I know this fellow must be something special if I can't concentrate on my latest find. Kirk returns with a tray of two coffee cups and two shots of a clear something. I take my share and watch him gracefully sit down. I learn the mystery substance is vodka when my throat experiences the vomit burn of the shot. "Good huh?" he laughs as he lifts the small glass to his lips and takes it all in one gulp. I nod in naive disgust and return to my caffeinated poison. He clears his throat, his voice shakes the couch, and my body responds to the vibrations. I scoot just a little closer to him and the music changes again to a seductive sounding hip hop song. He keeps reading his book, apparently unaware of the music. I reach across his body, brushing my elbow against his crotch, and grab his empty shot glass. I grab mine as well and make my way to the bar. "Hey Mol," the bartender says. "Hey sugar," I reply, because I can never remember this guy's name. "More vodka?" "Mmmhmm," I lay a five on the bar. The bartender hands over the poured shots and I walk back, trying to look smooth, even though his head is still buried in the book. I start to wonder what this guy is thinking as I sit down. I know that I am really attracted to him. But I don't know what he is thinking, my overactive female mind becomes paranoid as he continues to read. All I know is that I'd jump him right now if I had the choice. So I gulp my shot and begin to rub my fingers along the inside seam of his pants. He keeps reading. I kiss his neck. He keeps reading. I brush my breasts against his arm as I move my fingers to his balls and bite his neck. He stops reading. "Come on," he says in a quiet voice, taking my hand and the book. I follow like a good little girl. We go to the small unisex bathroom on the upper level. The wallpaper is yellow and there is a large red countertop with a small sink. The toilet is out in the open. The bathroom smells like disinfectant and vanilla and there is a poster of Shakespeare over our heads. As soon as the door closes, he presses me against the wall and then he lifts one of my legs and I wrap it around him. He begins to rub the binding of his book between my open legs, I cup my hand around his neck, which is thick with auburn hair. He starts to whisper lines from the book in my ear, a horribly nerdy turn on. "'It was love at first sight. The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him,'" he recites to my willing ear. The entire time he keeps the book pressure against my meeting point of my legs, rubbing back and forth, faster and faster. I bite his shoulder. He responds with, "Keep telling Daddy what you want." This drives me crazy, my love turns to lust and I buck against the book. My mind begins to drift to an image of me walking into the store two hours earlier, a girl on a buying mission, and now this stranger had his Catch-22 pressed against my throbbing labia. I again bit his shoulder, he jerks away. "Be nice," he whispers in my ear. I nod, he drops the book and his hand massages my clit through my pants. I can smell my cum, or maybe its his, but is definitely smelling like sex in the small bathroom. I purposely avoid the bulge in his pants, knowing how much he will want me to touch him if I just simply don't. My knees and brain are feeling the full effect of the two shots I just downed on an empty stomach and my vagina is feeling the full effect of this stranger's hand. I come, moan loudly, in my high pitched way, between his fingers that are pressing against my mouth. I come down from my orgasm, sliding down the wall to sit at his feet, my chest moving up and down in post-ecstasy. I breathe a "Your turn." He laughs. I blush. It is a fatherly laugh, a laugh that signified to me that he was older and wiser and knew what he was doing. He helps me from the maroon tiled floor, and I become aware that my panties feel soaked through. "Come on," he says, unlocking the bathroom door, and swaying his gentlemanly hand in the direction of the shop, an indication for me that we are done here. The door closes as I walk to the green couch, past the bartender who is busy cleaning glasses. I am slightly confused, but I decide to leave before he comes out. I always love a suspenseful ending. I buy my few books as he brushes against me at the check out counter. He lays his copy of Catch-22 on the counter and pulls out his brown wallet. I notice his erection is fading beneath his khaki pants. "I got it," I say, looking at him, dropping a twenty on the counter and I leave with my books. Compulsive Behavior From the files of Cleo: #2014008 Note: I have made subtle changes to the facts in order to comply with publishing guidelines of this site. They in no way detract significantly from the reprehensible story of female abuse. Cleo ***** My name is Kay. I'm a 31 year-old, happily un-married middle-class white woman with a marvelous life - except for being addicted to sex. Maybe it's only the risk factor that I'm addicted to. I honestly don't know, but I do know I'll sometimes take awful risks to anonymously and spontaneously fuck total strangers. There, now that I have that part out of the way maybe I can also be honest with the rest of what I want to explain. I know the risks of STDs, and all about women being harmed or even killed by someone they've casually bumped into on the street or met on the internet, but I can't seem to stop my risky behavior. I have a good education and make an obscene amount of money working for a high-profile company. If my abhorrent behavior became known I'd be fired immediately. I was an only child of a traditional, deeply religious family, and I lived at home until after completing college. IN my family, sex was a subject never discussed openly, so I admit I was naïve; therefore, easy prey for any predator. When I was eighteen, an uncle (now deceased) finally introduced me to sex, albeit unwillingly. A beloved member of our family and deeply admired for his personal achievements and charity work, he was a locally well-known philanthropist, and all-around do-gooder. To my dad, he was a hero, and that was one of the problems. I knew my dad loved him beyond all others. Everyone did, I guess. How could I come forward with my allegations and wreck that? So I'd suffered in silence, the unwanted incest lasting for a couple years - long enough to scar me for life. Toward the end I admit that I was pretty much a willing participant, guiltily not wanting anyone to find out. My last two years of college I lived in a dorm. He visited me a few times just before his death, renting a hotel room for us, where we would spend the entire weekend without leaving the room, just eating and fucking our eyeballs out! When it finally ended with his death, I probably knew more about sex than most other young women my age - oral, anal, you name it. My uncle had awakened a ravaging hunger, eating away at me from the inside, and when he died I found others who could fill my needs. I now know that my uncle was a selfish, despicable person, a pervert, and to me, he will always be the Boogieman - the monster that lives under a victim's bed or inside their closets. Due to rheumatic fever as a small child, I was sickly and thin most of my life. Even during high school I was still pretty thin, but starting to fill out some, and already feeling like a woman. I suppose I was pretty immature for my age though, due to my parents strictness, and not a clue about sex or the outside world. Heck, I wore pig-tails and no make-up until I was well into high school. After I'd graduated high school I took a while off from studies to contemplate my career course. It was about the time I entered college, my uncle began molesting me. Okay, you might say that I was eighteen and already a young adult, but remember, I'd been sheltered from this kind of stuff my entire life. Uncle Zeke was a widower and lived about a hundred miles away, so he'd stay with us on some weekends so Mom could ensure he got a good meal. It started out mild enough, just touching my breasts or butt when nobody else was looking. Then he sneaked into my bedroom late one night after everybody else was sleeping, and invaded my body with his fingers. The next time he stayed over the weekend, he held me down and used his mouth and tongue on my vagina. Gradually he worked up to the main event, and took my virginity. I cried for a week. In some ways, he stole my young adulthood from me. The more he abused me, the younger and more helpless I felt! I used to hide my head under the covers at night, breathing fearfully while listening as my bedroom door opened softly, then a subtle weight on the side of my bed, a rough hand under the blanket - the dreaded whisker stubble scrapping the tender insides of my thighs - a tongue, warm, wet and probing - the pleasure-laced embarrassment as I ultimately became an active participant in my own debasement. The result of my uncle's deviant behavior was in essence, a life sentence for me. Now a successful accomplished adult woman, I have uncontrollable behavioral patterns and a self-destructive personality, still suffering the consequences of his aberrant actions. A woman I might add, who doesn't have the guts to blow her own brains out or jump off a high bridge - so she seeks to literally do it "inch-by-inch" with strangers until she's eventually cast out by all who know and love her. So far my secret's safe, but I know it's only a matter of time until my life blows up in my face. After receiving counselling later in life I was made to realize this is a normal feeling for victims. I always seem to be searching for something I can't quite identify, and probably can never find. I'm told my fantasies concerning being used by rude intimidating men with over-sized penises, most likely come from the fact that to someone who's never participated in sex, all penises appear big and menacing. For that reason alone, even a normal-sized penis would have seemed gigantic to someone so naïve! Maybe that's true, maybe not, but true or not I continue my self-destructive search for a monster cock that will someday split me wide-open, allowing my miserable life to drain away, thereby ending my pitiful existence before I hurt those I admire and love the most. I was married for three years right after college, and unbelievable as it may sound I never cheated on Tony, although he had numerous affairs that I eventually found out about. I now have a boyfriend, or fiancé, if you prefer, but we have made no plans to be married. That is mostly due to personal reluctance based upon my own "issues," and bracing myself for an uncertain future. I have had dozens of trysts with total strangers since meeting him, most of them forgettable encounters with faceless men, but a few escapades that are etched indelibly into my mind in ways I'll never forget. My behavior has resulted in something bordering on physical and mental erosion; one gang-rape, multiple sexual debasements, and abject humiliation - but I can't stop doing it. I always crawl away from these encounters immediately after fucking someone, or having been severely battered, feeling worthless, filthy and used. That doesn't stop me from returning for more. Outwardly, you'd never know of the turmoil and uncertainty that lingers behind the façade of this well-dressed, educated female. One of my problems is I'm not overweight or ugly. In fact, I'm attractive and men want me. My grandmother was from Syria, and I have some of the same classic middle-eastern features she had. I'm five-six, creamy skin, slender-built but with a perky 35 inch bust, dark, shoulder-length hair, high cheekbones and, unaccountably large green eyes. Upon initially meeting people, they expect to see brown eyes staring back at them, and the pools of green in my olive complexion, suddenly stuns them. I have full pouty lips and have always thought my mouth too large, but the men I've known can't wait to taste it. Call me vain, but a woman can usually see in a man's eyes when he mentally undresses her, and sometimes, even by the tent subtly forming in the front of his trousers. I have to look good all the time, spending a lot of what I earn on designer clothes and beauty salons, because my job requires me to travel and meet people and organizations that our company frequently deals with. I won't describe what the business is because it might be recognized and I don't want that. Being attractive and well-dressed I can easily attract men, and as soon as they realize what I want, their animal urges kick in and there is no stopping them. The image comes to mind of something I saw at a park one day: a pack of male dogs after a bitch in-heat that they could all smell. Not pretty, but fairly accurate. I know I set-off unique jibes with the men I meet; a casual stare at a stranger in a hotel lounge, the airport, an underground parking garage, or simply walking down the street, is all it takes sometimes. Once, it'd even involved another woman. Somehow she'd sensed how vulnerable and susceptible I was to intimidation and simply forced the issue in a ladies restroom in the Mall. Remaining forever anonymous, she'd then walked out leaving me sitting there on a commode, my face streaked with her body fluids and my own tears, quaking from several gigantic orgasms I'd just experienced. At least it let me experience something like what I've been responsible a dozen times, for doing to strange men. My uncontrollable behavior was also responsible for my one and only gang rape one night. I constantly try blocking that harrowing experience completely from my mind. There have been times when I met a strange man for the first time and was fucking him five minutes later - only to hastily straighten-up my disarranged clothing once it was over, and quickly walk away while he was still trying to catch his breath! I sometimes wonder how long it had taken before he realized he didn't even know my name. My specialty is what I subliminally think of as my "drive-by" blow-job! Talk about leaving them in shock! I know what you're thinking. By now, you have a vision of a trashy white woman on the prowl, constantly looking for a hard cock to munch on - any cock. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sometimes I go for days or even weeks without the familiar overpowering urge kicking in. Then, something happens that triggers my secret fetish - a stern look, a rude word, Uncle Zeke's eyes in a complete stranger's face - and suddenly I can't stop fantasizing about what his hidden penis must look like! The urge grows ever stronger until I am compelled to act! It's as if at that point I can't help myself! The lady I talk to once a month about my problem has told me that I share this trait with many other people - especially victims. Some of them, both men and women, are addicted to porn or have other compelling fetishes or fantasies they feel they must live-out. Even "straight" married men may fantasize about performing oral sex on other men, until they can't resist the urge to visit a bath-house or adult theater and make that fantasy come true. They may not even be gay. Some people are exhibitionists or voyeurs; some want to watch their spouses have sex with another person, or even more than one person; some want to have sex with a family member. It's a strange world out there with lots of personal ideas about sex. I consider mine to be a self-destructive sickness, one that I can't seem to stop. Sometimes after a lengthy period of not even thinking about it I might wrongly think I have turned the corner, and finally have things under control. Then bam! Some big, rude jerk suddenly growls at me, my legs start to tremble and I soil my panties. To some, it might seem that any good-looking well-built man would get my juices to flowing, but that is not the case. In fact, the reverse seems to be true. Big, ugly brutish men who treat me like shit, is my downfall. Men like Uncle Zeke. My uncle passed away when I was in college or he'd probably still be controlling me. I say "controlling" because that's what he did. I remember Uncle Zeke as a big man, but I was always small and slender so I suppose everybody looked big to me. I've put on a little more height in the last few years and now wear mostly heels which also adds height. That doesn't stop me from being a stammering little fool every time some strange man snarls at me. I've mostly forgotten his facial features, but I do remember that Uncle Zeke's head was shaved, and he had a very wide nose and big heavily-lidded, bug-like eyes. I also remember he had thick black hair all over his arms, and most of his body. He would sometimes stop right in the middle of sexually using me to wrap his large fingers around my throat, tightening them, threatening to choke me if I ever told anyone about our "secret." On the verge of climaxing and my air closed off for almost a minute, it would scare me half to death - and excite me to no end! I came to expect it each time he fucked me and at the last, even began to relish it! Yes, he totally intimidated and controlled me, and that still seems to be one of the main ingredients required to stoke my libido! That's what happened in the five minute blow-job I mentioned above. It was the first time since becoming an adult that I'd succumbed to my deviant impulses letting my unnatural urges overpower me. It had left me scared, shaken to my core. It would prove to be the first of many more to follow, each growing more risky - and therefore more intense. I remember it was chilly that day, sometime around the holidays, and the mall parking lot was jammed with cars. I came out of the mall with my hands full of shopping bags, opened the rear door of the Mercedes to discard my packages. My car door accidently banged against the side of an older car next to me. A big scruffy-looking man with a few days growth beard got out of the car and came around to my side screaming profanities and looking threatening. He looked huge! I'm five-six. He must have been at least six-six. "You stupid fucking cunt!" I vividly remember him shouting that line specifically, as several people hurried away anxiously looking back over their shoulders. I suddenly realized the lot was deserted and I was alone with this wild man! I stammered that I was sorry and would pay if there were any damages to his car, but he wasn't about to be placated. My heart was pounding with fear, my mouth filled with cotton, legs trembling violently - it was like I was watching a Cobra about to strike! Then something else started happening between my legs. I was growing wet! Suddenly grabbing his crotch, he screamed at me, "Eat this, you stupid Bitch!" It was as if I was staring into the eyes of my uncle Zeke again, fear sweeping me along in its icy grip! My mind just completely shut down as something foreign took control of my body. Suddenly lost in long forgotten memories, I was alone with him again in my cozy little bedroom, and knew exactly what was required to take that crazy look from my Uncle's eyes - to keep him from choking me. Outwardly appearing clam but simply on automatic pilot, I walked over and knelt in front of the angry man. Staring into his eyes as Uncle Zeke had taught me, and with a trembling hand I was sure didn't even belong to me, I unzipped his pants and reached inside. Startled, he stopped in the middle of a vile epitaph, staring down in amazement at this crazy woman who had taken his limber penis inside her mouth, hungrily working her traitorous tongue around the thick crown. The temperature was in the upper forties so my mouth must have felt very hot, because he was completely hard in less than a minute. In a couple more minutes he was destroying my beauty-parlor hair-do with his hands, whimpering like a little boy. He shot his load quickly. It was weak, watery, and bitterly salty. I clutched the backs of his legs as I sucked him dry, my lips and tongue dutifully working his cock, making little purring sounds as I swallowed all of it, savoring it like it was sweet cream. Then I stood and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, got into the Mercedes and drove away. In the rearview mirror I saw him leaning weakly against his car staring after me, apparently still in shock! The taste of his semen remained in my mouth and throat all the way home. Sick to my stomach I berated myself even as I realized there hadn't been a thing I could've done to prevent it from happening. What the hell had I been thinking? What if a cop had come by? Or Mall Security? I'd be in jail right now! I'd lose my job, my friends would probably read about it, and my family would be devastated! Even as I chastised myself, I felt one traitorous hand slide under my short hem and locate the hairless lips of my swollen vagina. My clit was sticking out like a small penis! I sit in my driveway for a while, stroking several fingers in and out of the sloppy wetness and rolling my fingers around my swollen clit until I doubled over the steering wheel in a shuddering climax! Embarrassed and fearful some of the neighbors might've seen me I rushed inside where I hurriedly brushed my teeth and showered, scrubbing furiously to feel clean again. It wasn't my body that was dirty. I couldn't seem to get the image of what I'd done, out of my mind! I might have gotten that strange man off with a hungry blow-job, but afterward my vagina had been burning up! That night in bed I practically attacked my boyfriend Mike, and for the first time in our relationship, swallowed his sperm greedily as I relived that event at the mall over and over in my mind. Usually both of us are one-a-night types, but I didn't let his cock slide out of my mouth until it grew hard again, and then I climbed on top and rode him to a shuddering climax! I don't think he even came a second time, but I'm pretty sure he was shocked by my uncharacteristic performance that night! The weather grew warmer and I didn't do anything remotely like that for a while but it was never very far from my mind, constantly eating away at me the urges grew stronger daily, until I subsequently lost control once more. The second time was easier. I have to say that I don't think Mike has a clue about my proclivities, because over time I have become very resourceful and inventive in my selections. Like a serial killer, it's always quick, random and anonymous - and I never leave clues. I only pray I don't give him a STD or something. I know I should leave him for his own protection, but I love the man and except for the times I grow crazy with this sickness, our life together is wonderful! My boyfriend loves me, but for the past year our sex life has been pretty sparse. Mike is twelve years older than me, in his early forties, and works very hard. They say as a man ages his sex drive lessens, but that a woman's sex drive increases with age. Such is the total incompatibility of the human species. Mike recently confided in me that I felt "looser" and he didn't feel that he satisfied me as much as before. I quickly convinced him that he did. His penis is a nice size for any man and I truly enjoy it, but I suppose the hammering I occasionally take from over-sized penises will eventually take its toll. I frequently make it up to Mike with my mouth, so he never complains. There are lots of misadventures I could write about but I'll just stick to the most bizarre one I've ever experienced, which happened soon after that first encounter in the Mall's parking lot. It's one of the most radically bizarre encounters ever to happen to me and I still struggle to explain it, or my own weird behavior, even to myself. Near one of the branch offices I'm required to visit at least once a month, is a small antique store I'd noticed several times. I'm not big on antiques, but I needed something tasteful for one area in my home, a small end table for the entry hallway. A Victorian style piece seemed like the best idea to hold a colorful lamp. The store is on the block between the parking lot and our business office, so one day on my way to the branch office I ambled in to look around. Inside, the store was much larger than I'd previously thought. While very narrow on the street-front, it stretches almost a block deep with narrow, crooked isles piled so high with various items, there barely seems enough room to squeeze through. Compulsive Behavior Spring had arrived and I was dressed in what appeared to be a simple, flared yellow dress, but actually one that cost a mint. I wore matching canary-yellow heels, and a white leather purse, trimmed in the same yellow color. It all somehow worked. My dark hair was piled high on top with several ringlets framing my face. It looked casual but had required hours in a beauty shop to achieve the desired effect. Completely secure behind my large dark designer sunglasses, I was aware that I had drawn the stares of men all along my route, and knew I'd make a good impression on the people I was to meet at the branch office. A grossly overweight man behind the register was sitting on a tall stool so he could keep an eye on the front entrance. He was a good three hundred pounds, his fat unpleasant face barely acknowledging my entrance at first, but then his piggish eyes greedily following me as I meandered around the store. I felt as if he were undressing me with his stare, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. I tried calming this sudden unexplained feeling, surreptitiously looking for a water fountain to moisten my dry mouth. After traversing up and down a couple isles I saw something like the piece I'd envisioned, stuffed behind several other articles. I walked back to the register with more than a little trepidation, steeled myself and said, "I'm interested in something like that small Victorian table on isle five. Would you have anything similar, only perhaps, smaller?" He grinned, looking ugly, his tiny eyes sliding over my body obscenely, drawing a shiver of revulsion for his rudeness. "I might, Honey." He jerked his jowly head toward the rear of the store. "In storage, back there. Don't know if it's still there or not but it was last week. Want to take a look?" Revolted by his entire demeanor I suddenly wanted to run, but I seemed to be rooted to the spot. "I . . . I don't want to be . . . any trouble . . ." I said stupidly, suddenly feeling very small, overwhelmed by his massive size and oppressive demeanor. "No trouble for a pretty girl like you. Come on, Sweetie. Follow me." He waddled off toward the rear of the store. I stared after him and then back toward the front door, and for just an instant I was about to dart for it. By then he'd reached a rear doorway and stood looking at me. "Well? Do you want it, or not?" he growled, sending a chill through me. Unaware it was even happening my feet began to follow him. He led me into a small room literally crammed with all sorts of stuff. I saw it immediately, stuck behind a dresser and chest of drawers. It was exactly what I'd envisioned. "Yes," I said. "That's what I had in mind. Can you get it out for me?" "Well, Honey, as you can see I'm a little large to squeeze into that small space. You want it, you'll have to crawl back there and get it." I glanced back at the door once more, and then mentally thought, "Fuck you, you fat creep." I vowed I'd not let him intimidate me into leaving without what I'd come for. I attempted moving the chest out of the way first, finding it too far too heavy for me. So, I went around to the other side and tried lifting the table I wanted, over the much lower dresser. I had to bend over and practically lay on the dresser top to reach it, but it still wouldn't budge. I turned around and caught the guy stooped over a little, hands on his knees. He'd been looking under my skirt! My face flaming, I fumed. "I've changed my mind. I don't need it." He was standing in the narrow space between me and the door now, and it looked like he had no intention of moving his bulk out of the way. I wilted as his gaze roamed freely over my quacking body, lingering on my heaving breasts, mentally licking my legs, totally undressing me with his eyes. I could feel my pulse pounding inside my throat, my mouth too dry to spit. "Just wasting my time, huh? What is it with hootie-tootie women like you? Think you're better than anyone else?" My heart was hammering inside my chest as though trying to get out, making it difficult to breathe. I wanted to run, but my feet had suddenly turned to wood! If there had been a doorway right behind me and easy to exit, my trembling legs wouldn't have allowed it. "Please move," I muttered in a tiny voice. "Please . . .?" I swear I was looking into my dead uncle's eyes! My memory told me these eyes looked exactly the same as Uncle Zeke's; smoldering, hot, hungry, merciless. I took a step backward, coming up against the end of the dresser. Helpless tears stung my eyes making everything turn a little blurry, but I was still able to see him rubbing his groin through his baggy soiled pants, grinning like he knew my secret. I realized with a start that he was hard! "Please," I whimpered pitifully. "I really do have to go." Even to my own ears, it sounded like a frightened little girl speaking. "You want to leave, I ain't stopping you. Come on past me, and go." I inched toward the small space between him and the stacks of stuff around us but then without even willing it, my deceitful eyes uncontrollably dropped to the obvious tent in the front of his baggy trousers. It was as if he'd been waiting for some sort of signal, for when he saw me staring, his grin suddenly broadened, showing bad teeth. Freezing in place like a scared bunny rabbit, I watched in horror as he slowly unzipped the front of his pants, reached inside and extracted a huge veined cock! His eyes never left my face the entire time. He slowly stroked the inflating slab of fat meat as it grew stiff and purple, pulling the uncut foreskin back from the crown, and then allowing it to cover the tiny hole in the tip again - as though winking at my folly. My lips were dry enough to crack and I desperately wanted to lick them, but somehow I knew that would be a mistake! I also knew I had to start moving, but I couldn't. My feet felt like they were encased in concrete. I suddenly felt my tongue easing out to lick my dry lips. The fat man smirked. "All you high class cunts look down your noses at guys like me. Well, look down your nose at this!" he said, holding his rigid cock out towards me, squeezing it until the crown turned purple! It was something my late uncle might've said or done. He'd been cruel and nasty just as this guy was. Maybe the fat man was a rapist, too. A shiver ran up my spine at the thought. I was suddenly back in my parent's house, in my bedroom with Uncle Zeke again, sniffing as hot tears stung my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. I felt as if I might pee myself with fear. There was a loud ringing sound inside my head, heart beating away like a drummer on steroids and my dry mouth was suddenly and unaccountably watering as I stared at this fat throbbing cock. I felt my womanhood gushing fluid, drenching my panties. He smirked again because knew he had me. He was toying with me. Maintaining eye contact, he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down along with his shorts, to puddle around his spindly ankles. Rolls of blubber rippled around his ribs, a disgusting slab of belly fat almost hiding his stiff penis. Revolted, I was shivering uncontrollably, a small moan escaping my lips. My mind was screaming inside my head . . . no . . . no . . . no! But I was trapped, my eyes glued to his massive genitals; a beer-can-sized cock, huge soft balls covered with the same thick black hair as the rest of his body - the size of grapefruit! I found him repugnant. My mouth watered. "I bet you want to touch it, don't you little girl?" I found myself nodding, sniffling like a scared little girl. I nearly jumped out of my skin as he suddenly growled, "Well? Get your ass over here!" I scurried closer, dropping to my knees in front of him, his fat cock scant inches from my face. He probably wasn't as long as Mike but almost twice as thick, large blue veins crisscrossing in every direction, an unbelievably large crown perched on top like a reigning king! Fat man, fat dick, my mind insanely repeated. I caught a whiff of his musk, strong with sweaty body-odor. I tried to pull back from it but his hands were behind my head holding me immobile. "Take a lick, little girl," he whispered hoarsely. "See how it tastes. We both know you're going to, so do it." His cock jumped a couple times, clear liquid forming on the tip. "Well, what you waiting for?" he growled. "Yes, Uncle," I muttered, reaching out dutifully. Wrapping my fingers around the base, I saw they were almost hidden by his thick black pubic hair. I leaded forward hesitantly as I brought the leaking head to my mouth, the dewy drop about to run-off. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth as wide as possible taking the fat spongy head inside, feeling it sting my tongue as I glided smoothly over it. I heard him grunt so I just held it there for a moment, sliding my tongue all around the bulbous end, appalled and nauseated by what I was doing - my legs unaccountably slippery against each other from my own body fluids. I groaned softly, involuntarily pushing my nose against his flabby belly, feeling his fingers tangling themselves in my expensive hairdo. Somehow, I had gotten most of his thick cock down my throat, feeling its bloat forcing my throat muscles apart, closing off the life-giving supply of air. Finally, gagging and at the point of suffocation, I pulled back against his hands until I could breathe again. Gulping several mouthfuls of air I hungrily went right back down on it, forcing it even deeper. I was suddenly kneeling in front of my uncle again, feeling the comfort of this warm meaty thing sliding over my tongue, filling my throat with its warmth. I felt tears of gratitude flooding my eyes, running down my face as I paid homage to Uncle Zeke, giving him my love as only a victim can rationalize it. Unnoticed slobbers dripped down my chin staining my pretty dress, pre-cum stung my tongue igniting unknown senses and long dormant desires. I moaned hungrily around the warm thickness, lovingly caressing his soft balls lightly dragging my painted nails across his scrotum. His breathing had changed noticeably, coming much faster and shorter, loud gasps mixed in, his fat thighs trembling so hard, it appeared he might fall. But still he clung to my head, gripping it like a vice, pulling my nose tightly against his belly flab - holding it there completely buried inside my working throat, as I was forced to suck precious air through my nose. I was making little noises too, whimpers, tiny grunts of pleasure as he produced an increasing amount of pre-cum for my taste-buds. My traitorous hands slid up the backs of his huge hairy legs, slim fingers clutching his sagging ass-cheeks, freshly painted nails digging in hard enough to draw blood, pulling him deeper. Disgusted, yet unable to stop, I sensed he was close to erupting inside my sucking mouth and I was finally faced with having to swallow this dirty, fat stranger's semen. Somehow, one of my wayward hands had returned to clutch his soft hairy balls, and I felt them tightening, drawing up as I gagged on the oversized crown lodged deep in my throat. A continuous flood of watery pre-cum ran freely down my throat, intoxicating, tantalizingly sweet - and then his body went completely stiff, crying out his release as he flooded my mouth with a steady stream of thick lumpy sperm. It coated my teeth, clinging to the roof of my mouth and then like a slimy snake, making its way down my throat to nest in my warm tummy. Just as I thought he was through, he released another lumpy mouthful, forcing me swallow quickly, clutching him to me in order to swallow it all. Some escaped the corner of my mouth anyway, running down my chin, but I didn't stop until nothing else leaked from the hole in the tip. It seemed endless, as I floated weightlessly in space, my only anchor the hand gripping his large hairy balls, as I savored his release, satisfied with the knowledge that I had pleased my Uncle Zeke. As the salty flood eventually abated, he went soft quickly as I held his limp cock inside my mouth, only reluctantly releasing it after he forcibly pushed my head away, pulling my mouth from it with a tiny moan of protest. Sick and disgusted, the taste of his spent seed still in my mouth I sat with my head bowed, my destroyed hairdo hiding my tears. Tears, slobbers and semen streamed uncontrollably down my face, streaking my carefully applied makeup. I was wrenched, a complete wreck as I squeezed my thighs tightly in an attempt to ease the ache raging down there. Engorged with blood and sloppy wet, my pussy lips felt swollen and tender - my vagina, empty. That feeling easily overrode any feelings of guilt or revulsion for what I'd just done. I needed . . . I realized I didn't even know his name . . . him . . . to help me. His gravelly voice jolted me back to reality. "Pussy still hungry little girl? Follow me." He pulled his pants up and holding them in one hand, lumbered away. My pride having deserted me much earlier I hesitated only a moment and then stood and followed like a little puppy dog. He led me to a small room with a dirty mattress on the floor, where he discarded his clothing and plopped down, his fat belly-fat rippling in waves under the thick matted body-hair. His fat limp dick lay meekly against his hairy thigh, its one little eye staring up in amusement at my predicament. Hands folded behind his head, he stared up at me with contempt. "Get naked little rich cunt. Help me get it hard again and I'll give you want you've been wanting." I was ashamed by the haste in which I discarded my dress and underwear, suddenly standing nude in front of this evil stranger, thrills shooting up my spine as I stared at his stirring cock. Dropping to the mattress beside him, my hand involuntarily reached out to grasp the half-inflated staff. He suddenly wrapped his fingers in my fallen hair and pulled my face savagely against his groin, forcing my nose and open mouth against his hairy sacs, still damp from my previous slobbers. "Lick 'em," he whispered hoarsely. "Take 'em into your mouth!" He smelled of stale sweat, strong body odor - and old sex. My stomach lurched violently as he forcibly rubbed my face all around on his sweaty balls, tightening his fingers in my hair and pulling hard enough to make me cry out. That seemed to excite him even more as I felt his penis surging, stiffening. "Ow . . .!" I cried out. "Lick . . . 'em!" To save my scalp from more punishment I hurriedly licked his balls, as he forced my small hand around the base of his growing cock. A hair became stuck in my mouth, so I raked it off my tongue against the base of his cock, and then tenderly sucked another hairy nut back inside my mouth. I began lovingly administering to it with my wet tongue, almost humming with contentment. He grunted to show his gratitude, easing the tight grip on my hair. With his fat fingers tangled in my hair to show he was still in charge, he pulled me up forcing my mouth to cover one of his sagging nipples. I ran my tongue around the tiny bud, sucking and nibbling for a while as he grunted with pleasure, and then he pulled me upward again to straddle his wide garth, his thick cock-head rubbing against my swollen opening. I nearly swooned, reaching under me to guide him where I wanted it. Lifting up I felt the soft crown pushing insistently against my pussy lips, forcing them aside, friction burning them, pain mixed with pleasure. It would not be denied. It was like my uncle was entering me for that first time, again. I remembered it well, the dark room, the entire house quiet and everyone else sleeping. "Don't cry, Niece," my uncle had whispered in my ear that first time he violated me late one night. "It'll hurt just a little and then it'll be alright." He'd been right. It had hurt, and after that I was able to associate pain with pleasure. Reliving that first time again, I needed both pain and pleasure at the moment. I pushed down on the fat man's stiffness - wanting it - needing it badly! His huge cock-head finally popped inside and almost oblivious to the discomfort its unusual thickness was causing me, I let my body weight and gravity do its job until I was completely impaled. Motionless and unable to move, I let it soak, resting my hands against his fat chest, damp tangled hair covering my face as I tried adjusting to his immense thickness. He savagely twisted my nipple and I cried out in pain and surprise. "Move your little ass!" he growled ruthlessly. I slowly eased off his cock until only the crown remained inside, and then carefully slid back down its stuffy length, expecting a lot of pain. It was a little painful, but the thrill of being so completely filled with cock, far outweighed any discomfort. In a short time I was using my hands and hips to heave my body up and down on his stationary cock, twisting and rolling my ass frantically, desperately seeking release! Gasping through half-opened lips, spittle beginning to run from the corner of my mouth I glanced at him through glazed, heavily-lidded eyes, half-expecting to see Uncle Zeke's face. Having already climaxed once, the fat man was simply lying with his arms folded behind his head clinically watching my frantic gyrations on his motionless cock, with vast amusement. As I slid up and down the hard unmoving appendage desperately rotating my ass, he silently observed me like I was like a bug on a spit - smirking at my predicament! I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at his ugly face, and suddenly he became Uncle Zeke. "Ooooh . . . yes, Uncle . . . yes . . ." I whispered. His hands were now on my breasts, tugging cruelly at my nipples, twisting, hurting me. I didn't care. Hurt me, I wanted to scream! I didn't care if he killed me. I deserved it! I took his hands and brought them up to my throat forcing his fat fingers around my windpipe, helping him squeeze, cutting of my air supply. He started doing it on his own then, sadistically squeezing until I was almost blue, making me gasp for air as my head swirled, and then letting me breathe a bit before doing it again. He just kept doing that over and over, his thick cock pulsating inside me with each squeeze of his fingers. I know now that it was only feeding into my suicidal fantasies of dying on an over-sized cock, but at the time it felt so right - and extremely erotic. That pushed me over the limit of my endurance, the climax hitting like a giant tidal wave, just slamming into me, taking my breath away, doubling me over in its intensity and causing my heart to stop for just an instant! Sobbing, clutching his fat body with my thighs, alternately screaming and making little obscene grunts, I strained to draw every bit of pleasure I could from his fat dick! Somewhere in the middle of it all he pulled my face down, his sloppy mouth swallowing mine as his tongue stabbed inside my lips like a tiny penis. I rolled my hips on his meaty cock, sliding around his soft belly in my expelled juices, as I sucked the meaty invader deeper into my oral cavity, chasing it back into his mouth when it finally withdrew, searching hungrily for it with my own probing tongue. Only afterwards, as I lay on his wide belly, trembling and basking in the deep-vagina climax I'd just experienced, did I realize he hadn't cum. Nibble for a fat man, he flipped me onto my stomach, knelt behind me, lifted my hips and slammed his still hard cock inside my tender vagina. Too exhausted from my intense orgasm to resist I shook my head side-to-side in a silent plea for mercy. My vagina felt swollen and tender, almost raw from the bashing it'd just received. I finally found my voice, gasping in pain. "Nh . . .n . . . no. . . please . . ." I muttered over and over as he plummeted into my core. It seemed as he'd get close to cumming he would suddenly freeze, holding my hips in his large hands, breathing heavily for a minute or two. After a short time, he'd start easing himself in and out again, drawing my vagina walls out as far as they would go and then pushing them back in. He would work himself almost into frenzy, and then slow down and do it all over again. This went on for a long time. I finally found myself helping him violate me, lifting my ass, making it easy for him as he thrust violently inside my tender core - rotating my hips, trying to hold his cock buried deep inside, grunting with pleasure, clutching and biting the dirty mattress as I moaned in desperation. Compulsive Behavior "Yes . . . yes . . . Uncle . . . ag . . . yes . . . do . . . help . . . aggg . . . " I realized I was speaking incoherently, continuously, not even understanding my own words. "I'll be your uncle, little girl. What's your uncle's name?" he said thrusting extra hard as I grunted. When I didn't answer he pulled out until only the bloated head remained inside. I rotated my ass, searching its fullness again, but he held back. "The name?" he insisted. "Zeke," I muttered, defeated. "Uncle Zeke." "Good. From now on, I'm Uncle Zeke. Tell me. Do you want Uncle Zeke to let you cum now?" "Yes! Please! Please." He used his fat cock like a jackhammer, bruising the tender tissue of my vagina walls, pushing it relentlessly aside as he plowed forward, stretching it wider to accommodate his thickness. Between our legs I could see his hairy balls swinging under us, looking like coconuts ready to fall. I reached back and grasped them, squeezing lovingly, whispering, "Yes, Uncle Zeke. Yes." He had tremendous staying power the second time around, bringing me to another, and then yet another mind-blowing orgasm. It was the first time I'd ever had multiple orgasms. He finally reached a point of no return and also came, shoving a wide thumb into my puckered anus as he shot his load, splashing against my cervix like a water hose. My ass wet and sloppy with our combined fluids, I continued to slowly rotate it against his slimy belly-fat long after his cock grew soft, savoring the comfort it gave me, knowing that soon I'd have to face what I'd just done. As his limp cock slipped from my battered vagina, it felt rawer than even before, possibly torn. Grunting with effort, he stood and as a final act of degradation wiped his wet cock on my ass cheeks, displaying his contempt for me. That was fine. I was a slut. No better than a bitch stray-dog. I felt sick. Just like I had after each time Uncle Zeke had used me. I watched as the fat man ambled away, leaving me to drag my aching body up and get dressed. I found my yellow shoes and located a small bathroom, one almost as filthy as its owner. I pulled the once pretty, but now soiled dress over my head, horrified as I looked into the broken mirror. My hairdo had been totally destroyed, my face streaked with tear tracks and smeared with mascara! I was a total wreck! I suddenly remembered my appointment, searching frantically inside my purse for the cellphone. I spoke with the secretary, quickly making some lame excuse for missing the meeting, rang off, and then attempted to repair the damage. I used tissue to clean the worst spots off my dress, and fresh lipstick helped a little. As I weakly stumbled toward the front of the store, my pussy felt so sore and swollen that I could barely walk! "Uncle Zeke" stood near the door, smirking coldly, his tiny mean eyes shining unnaturally. "The next time you come, Uncle Zeke's gonna butt-fuck you. Fuck you up that tight little virgin asshole, you think's so fine." He laughed, his belly quivering. "Hell, you may even learn to like taking it like that." Almost in hysterics, shaking my head frantically I opened the door and stepped through to freedom. "No. No more. I won't be back. Ever!" I almost ran, getting away from there. I heard him laughing as I tentatively made my way back to where I'd parked. Near exhaustion from my ordeal, I soaked for an hour in the tub that night. I felt sore for days - like a used whore. Nothing happened for a couple months. I vowed to never let myself be in that situation again. Fortunately, the branch meeting was cancelled the following month so I didn't even have to see the damn store again either. The night before my next branch meeting I went to sleep dreading the next day's appointment. I awoke the following morning already thinking a bout my earlier debasement by that repulsive fat man. In fact, it had been in my restless dreams. My face burned with shame as I recalled how I'd called him "Uncle Zeke," begging him to use me, seeking my pleasure from the most repulsive man I'd ever known - and how terribly sore and utterly disgusted I'd been afterward. Parking my car in the usual parking lot, I walked past the antique store totally ignoring it, but in my mind, reliving that awful experience in its entirety. Remembering how the fat man had threatened to "butt fuck" me, my sphincter involuntarily clinched tightly. Shivering with dread, my legs trembling, and my mouth suddenly dry as cotton I lengthened my stride until I was well past it, though still shuddering with revulsion. His thumb inserted back there had been painful enough. If he'd actually forced his immense cock inside my butt-hole instead, it would've torn me apart - maybe even have killed me. All through the meeting I had difficulty focusing of the speaker's material. My mind raced wildly inside my head; images of me on my knees having my hair pulled, being slapped me in the face by his fat cock as I desperately sought to capture it with my mouth - his slimy-wet blubbery fat resting on my ass cheeks while he recovered from his orgasm, the relentless pounding I'd received and the awful soreness that followed. I also thought about the disgust that followed, the humiliation I'd suffered, and how he'd degraded me by wiping his nasty cock on me, making me feel like a cheap whore. Squeezing my thighs tightly, unnoticed by others at the conference table, I felt them squishing together in my unwanted juices. I valiantly fought the intrusion, trying harder to focus on what the speaker was saying, praying for it to end. Catching just a faint whiff of female sex I also prayed no one at the conference table had an over-sensitive sense of smell. If they did, I was busted! I finally chastised myself sufficiently enough that I was able to present my portion of the briefing without faltering. Then quickly stuffing things back into my briefcase, I exited, mumbling something about commute traffic. After the meeting wrapped-up I headed back to my car, once again approaching the antique store with a sense of foreboding, my anxiety level skyrocketing as soon as it came into view. As I walked past, it took all my will-power to keep from looking inside. I knew if I did, I was lost. Weak and trembling I made it to the end of the block and paused, taking a moment to close my eyes and lean against a building in an attempt to regroup. I was still having trouble breathing, my heart-rate at an unbelievable level - my panties sticking to me. Stop it! I shouted inside my head. Stop . . . the . . . fuck . . . it! An elderly woman passed by and gave me a puzzled look, and I forced a smile in return. I simply had to get a grip on myself! Deep in a mental quagmire, I walked past the store two more times before I finally just opened the door and went inside. "Uncle Zeke" sat on his familiar stool leering at me as I approached, causing my stomach to lurch. My face was burning like fire, my legs weak and trembling as a foreign entity took control of my body. A single drop of moisture escaped my sopping panties and slid down the inside of one thigh, making me finally realize the futility of more resistance. "Hi, little girl. Come back to get some of what I promised you?" Compulsive Sexual Behavior Greg had been looking for a place to spend his summers away from the humdrum of the city. After the real estate agent had shown him any number of prospective homes, he finally decided on a cabin located on the Shore of Timber Lake. Directly across from the cabin was a small cluster of homes which formed a community called Resort Point. Although Greg only intended to use the cabin during the summer, the neighboring community was more of a "year round" settlement. He had intended to finish several books he had been commissioned to do for his publisher and this would be the ideal setting to do that. It was rather isolated except for his neighbors across the lake and it was quiet. Actually the voices of the people living in "Resort Point" could be heard across the five or six hundred yards of water that separated him from his neighbors. Even as he was moving in, he became aware of the interest his presence was generating. Once inside the cabin, and out of sight, he looked out thru his kitchen window and spotted three young women on a dock. They were passing binoculars back and forth as they peered at his newly acquired home. He smiled and thought to himself, "I have either long range peeping toms or just curious neighbors to contend with now." The woman who had arranged the purchase had sort of hinted that there was something not quite right with his selection, but failed to go further. He had an inspector come over and verify that everything was as it should be, so there should be no surprises about his new purchase, but still he had this uncomfortable feeling something was wrong. Not one day had passed before he had his first visitor. She arrived in a skiff and tied up at his dock. Climbing out, she displayed long tan legs and a supple little ass tightly confined in a pair of white short shorts. Her light blue pullover was possibly one or two sizes too small which made her firm breasts perfectly outlined beneath the soft fabric. She spent an inordinate amount of time bending over while she secured her small boat, almost as if deliberately taking provocative poses for his admiring glances. Greg had to admit that the young woman was stunning and when she turned to walk up the path she swayed her hips much more than necessary. She almost seemed to be doing some sort of strip tease but without actually taking anything off. Stepping onto the porch, she softly knocked. Greg opened the door and without being invited, she walked in. "Hi neighbor, I'm Silky. I live across the cove and thought it might be neighborly to stop in and introduce myself. I wanted to be first to meet our new neighbor." Greg stared at her and as she smiled back, her eyes moved from his face down to his feet then back up, pausing at his crotch. For a brief moment he got the feeling that he was being undressed. "Oh yes," she went on, "You are so much the one, dahlin. You are just what we need up here. Are you taken? I mean are you spoken for? Wife, girlfriend anything like that?" Greg looked down and shuffled his feet. She was making him feel very uncomfortable. To say she was forward would be an understatement. She was much more forward than any women he had ever encountered before, and yet he was attracted to her. Her smile was coy but there was some sort of fire in the depths of her deep blue eyes that seemed to be calling him. He finally found his voice and answered. "No, no one at the moment. I really bought this place to get away and do some fishing and just relax." She smiled, and then sort of pouted her lips in thought before going on. "It's sort of desolated up here. Ya know, a man's gonna need a good woman for company and things. You know what things I mean I'm sure. I'm good at those things, so if you need anything, I'll be here for you. And I've got a hell of a good body and all, so we can take care of each other any time you want." Reaching down she grasped the hem of her blouse, and pulled it up, holding it under her chin. "Look, nice firm titties and a hard flat tummy... and I'm tight." Her breasts probably would fill a 28C bra, if she were wearing one, and her nipples were like small thimbles centered in pink areoles about the size of silver dollars. "Like them? I really get off on having them pinched and sucked, and I can go on for hours with the right person. Wanna be the right person, Greg?" He had this stupid grin frozen on his face. His gaze moved from her breasts up to her eyes and locked. Completely stunned by her offer he paused before clearing his throat and mumbling. "I guess. I mean I'd have to think about it,... er Miss Silky. I mean sure you're a beautiful young woman and all, but this is sort of something I... er, we should think over a bit." She smiled at his apparent embarrassment and went on. "My aren't you the shy one. Haven't you ever had a girl interested in you who didn't want anything except your cock? My, oh my, I bet you're big too. Can I check it out?" Without an answer she squatted down and began to unfasten his belt and undid his fly. Pulling his jeans down so they hung just above his hips she slid her hands inside. Cupping his balls in one hand, her other hand slowly slid along the length of his cock. "Beautiful! Simply beautiful sweetie. My god your getting big and you're circumcised too, I like that. More sensation for a girl that way. Mmmm your damn big baby." Tilting her head slightly she asked, "Want Silky to suck you a little? Mmmmmmmf, you are good darlin... mmmm, and you taste good too." Suddenly releasing him, she looked up into his face and whispered. "I love to swallow, baby. It really turns me on when that happens. I bet you'd like that too." Greg finally regained control and reaching down, took her arms and lifted her up so she stood in front of him. "Your going a little too fast for me Silky. Isn't it the guy who's supposed to be the aggressive one?" "Not in Resort Point baby. It's first come first serve around here. If a girl doesn't look out her herself, she won't get any, and baby, your prime grade stock. I bet that by the end of the week you're going to have five or six women panting at your door but you're going to remember Silky, baby. And to make sure you do, I want to give you just a little sample of what good ass is." Turning her back on Greg, she suddenly released her shorts and pushed them down around her ankles. Her arms crossed, grasped her blouse and whipped it up over her head. Her auburn hair tumble across her bare shoulders. Still facing away she turned her head and looking back over her shoulder she whispered, "Come on baby, Silky wants to give you a sample, and I need it bad." Then she bent over the back of his couch and wiggled her tight little ass invitingly. The offer had come so quickly and without warning, that instinct took over, and with his jeans opened and half way off, he moved towards her and put his hands on her hips. Supporting herself with one hand, she reached down between her thighs and grasped his shaft. Lifting it slightly she began to draw its head back and forth deep in the cleft between her puffy lips, coating her cunt with her own wetness. "Gimmee it, sweetie. Silky wants it deep and hard. Make me cum Dahlin. Shove it in deep." Greg thought, "My god this is impossible. Twenty minutes ago she was a stranger, and now she's almost begging to be screwed." He simply pushed his hips back as she lifted his cock slightly, and its head found her slippery opening. Grasping her hips more firmly, he pulled her back onto his shaft. The warm velvety sheath slid back, swallowing his cock almost completely. She let out a gasp. "Woooh baby! Let me do this. You're too fucking big. Just take it slower. I need to get used to it. I'll tell you when." As he held still she began to slowly push back and rock forward. Again and again she rocked back and forth until she felt his heavy balls gently begin to slap against her ass. He was in. Really deep in, and she gasped back over her shoulder. "Oh baby, I've got you now. Just pull me back on it and spank me hard. Pump it in me Dahlin, I want it deep and hard. Oh yeah, like that. Fuck my cunt and make me cum all over your cock." Greg began to sway his hips back and forth. Drawing almost completely out before plunging his cock back in and she began to moan. Minutes passed and she began to huff and puff. "Yeah, like that! Harder. Hurt me. Gimmee it faster baby. It's cumming now. Yeah, ooh, ohhh yesss, I'm close. Spank my ass. Harder, make it sting. Oh god Now! Pull my hair. Make me cum. Oh shit, I am! I'm cumminnnnnnn now." She was clenching her pussy so tightly that he had to drive hard to force his cock in and out but she continued to push back on him, meeting his thrusts with ones of her own. Apparently not satisfied yet, she kept gasping for more, but now she began to moan as his balls and cock became coated with her thick creamy cum and began sticking to her ass. "Again..., I'm cumming again! Oh GOD don't stop! Don't you dare cum yet! I need it! Help me baby... Oh my god, go faster and push it in deep, YEAH, Like that! Cummin now baby. Oh god it's good!" Slowly she caught her breath and when Greg was about to pull out she moaned. "Now baby, cum for Silky. Keep fucking me and when your ready, pull out and gimmee it." When he thought he couldn't hold back any longer he quickly drew out. He expected to just cum on her ass but she spun around and dropped to the floor in front of him and opened her mouth wide. "Shoot baby. Come for me! Oh god fuck my mouth. I want you to feed me." Greg stood there, slowly stroking his cock, trying not to lose the moment, but she became impatient and pushed his hand away. Wrapping her hand around his throbbing cock she began to jerk him into her mouth, letting her tongue lap just at the underside of its head until she finally heard him cry out. "Now! Gonna shoot now. OH Shit here it comes. I'm cumming, Silky, I am now!" Her hand slid down to the base of his slippery cock. She opened her mouth and drove forward, taking his whole shaft deep down her throat. Her lips formed a tight kiss as she clasped his cock tightly and her head bobbed back and forth. He paused and stood motionless as she fucked his dick with her mouth. Each contraction spew thick gushes of his seed into her waiting mouth and she could feel the pulsing jets squirt against her tongue. She was milking him and trying holding it as long as she could before swallowing. Finally she let his dick slip from her mouth before reaching out and pulled herself up. "Good! You are really good sweetie. Wanna fuck Silky tomorrow baby? Just call and I'll be back for more. Just remember I'm the best and we still haven't done a lot of things I think you'll enjoy." She put her clothes back on as Greg just stood there amazed by what had just happened. "Here, she went on, I'll write my phone number down. Don't lose it and just remember what good ass I am, OK?" He nodded and walked her to the door. Looking out the window he watched as she launched her boat and left. The spectators on the dock at the far side of the bay waited for her to arrive, and gathered around her. That was the beginning. At ten the next morning, a knock on his front door brought another surprise. A woman in her early forties stood in the open doorway with a covered dish held in her hands. A quick introduction and she stepped in. Before the door closed, he watched as a young woman in a car drive off. She had apparently been dropped off and her ride had left. Lynn smiled up at him and began. "I thought that it might be neighborly to bring something over for our new arrivals lunch. Its something I make on special occasions and you are definitely a special occasion. Where shall I set it down? It's still hot." Greg nodded to the kitchen table and she hurried over and laid it down. Now turning she smiled and asked, "Where are the dishes. I'll set us a couple of places and we can enjoy it. My daughter, Lisa, dropped me off and won't be back for a while. She's a senior in college and has a term paper to work on." Greg got a bottle of red wine and sat across from her as she dished out the lasagna. He was famished and as he ate, she sort of picked at her food while watching him. Hardly a word was exchanged except for the compliments he frequently gave her but she continued to stare intently at him. Becoming self conscious of the long periods of silence, she began. "You made quite an impression on Silky yesterday afternoon. All she could do was gush over you. Actually we were all rather anxious to meet you, but Silky has a tendency to be a bit forward, so she had to be first." Greg leaned back and smiled. "Yes she is forward. And she is a very remarkable woman in a lot of ways." "I know," she went on, "she told us what she did. Or should I say, what you both did. She went into rather great detail about your, er... attributes if I may be so bold as to call it that." Greg flushed with embarrassment as she reached across the table and put her warm hand atop his. "Oh don't be embarrassed. We all knew what she was up to but what we were surprised about was what you did to her. I mean we never heard her brag too much about her escapades, so when she opened up about you, we knew you must be something special." Greg took another sip of his wine and looked into her eyes. "And?" he questioned. "And now I'm here," she simply answered. A flush coming over her cheeks as she went on. "My daughter suggested that we meet and sort of get to know each other. Food was the only excuse we could come up with so...." Her voice trailed off. "I do suppose food is a good way to break the ice and I'm very glad your daughter suggested it," he went on. Her hand still covered his and she squeezed it before she leaned over the small table and lowering her voice, continuing. "Well, she suggested that possibly more intimate things might take place. I mean in addition to having a nice lunch together." She went on, "I've been divorced for over a year now and she thought that after the Silky episode, you might consider an older woman. Not that forty two is really old but... Hell it's been a long time Greg. And using a vibrator every night is getting a bit boring." She continued: "Sure Lisa helps, but I can't ask my daughter to help me all the time, although she wants to. It's just that there's no substitute for a mans warm arms around you and we were wondering if you might just would, er...we were wondering if maybe we... you and I, might get together. No real commitments or anything, just sort of, well you know." Greg leaned back. And with quizzical look on his face, he formed a question. "Do all the women around here need attention? I mean Silky came charging in here and almost demanded sex. Now you come over, at your daughter's suggestion, and hint that you might want to go to bed with me. Am I reading you right?" Her hand tightened its grip on his wrist and she whispered. "Please? Oh god Greg, it's been so long and it's not as if I want a real affair or anything. Just an afternoon or evening is all." She paused for a moment before going on. "I know it sounds crazy, but I've been sitting here getting wet just thinking about things. Things like what it would feel like if you kissed me, or just put your arms around me and nuzzled your lips in the hollow of my neck. Or what it would be like to take you in my mouth and feel you respond. It's been so long Greg. Could we? I'd be good for you Greg. I know I would." He stood up and nodded before answering. "Sure, I guess so Lynn. Come here and let me hold you. I'd like to do that." She stood so quickly that she pushed the table away, then dashed to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Yesss, Oh yes, do that! Hold me close." Sliding his hands around her waist and drawing her near, he was amazed at how lithe she was. He drew his hand up her back and ran his fingers in her hair as she tilted her face to him and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue darted between his parted lips, dueling with his tongue, and she moaned. The kiss lasted long moments when she let go of his neck and slid her hands between them. She almost tore her blouse off, bearing her breasts before opening his shirt and wiggled her firm nipples back and forth across his chest. She seemed like a woman possessed. She wanted to melt into him. Greg lowered his hands to her waist as she straddled his thigh and ground her pussy hard against him. "Oh god, Greg, I want you right now. I'm so hot baby. Now, here, right here on the table." Greg had different ideas. "Come on, in the bed room. We don't want to rush this and I don't want another repeat of the Silky thing." Clinging to him, she followed as he led her to his bedroom. Almost before he could turn, she had begun to fling her blouse aside and unfasten her bra. Hooking her thumbs under the waist of her shorts she wiggled them over her hips, and stepped out of them. When she drew her panties down he was amazed. She had the body of a teenager and her pussy was bare and only the soft pink mounds of her labia exposed the thin cleft of her womanhood. He was slower just beginning to pull his shirt tails out of his jeans as she sauntered over and began helping him. She tugged at his belt and fumbled at the zipper. Soon he was released and kicked the jeans away as she slid to her knees. Greg wore no shorts and she gingerly took his shaft in her palm and held it as if admiring it. He began to respond. "Yesssss," she hissed, "Oh yesssss, sweet baby. I want this everyway. I want to taste your cock; I want to feel it deep inside me, everyway, everywhere, just give it to me." By now he was firm. Not quite rigid, but well on the way. When she placed his cock in her mouth and began to run her tongue over its sensitive head, he grew harder, and when she released it to lap at his balls, it sprang straight up. He was as rigid as steel. She was almost beside herself. She quickly tilted her head to capture it again and ran her warm hands up the back of his thighs, ending with her palms cupping the hard cheeks of his ass. She held him firmly as her face bobbed back and forth. And her mouth filled with saliva. Not wanting to finish this way, Greg lifted her up and he lay on the bed. He had her straddle his face and place her hands against the wall above the head. She understood what he wanted and she lowered herself until she felt his tongue begin to probe between her puffy lips. Greg began by taking long sweeping laps with his tongue. Within moments she was gyrating and moaning. When he swept his tongue up over her clit it had already become swollen and had begun to protrude from its hiding place. Suddenly he captured it with his pursed lips and drew it into his mouth. She squealed and began thrusting down almost smothering him. She was close and began to sob. "Yeah, it's cumming. Oh yesssss it feels so good, yeah baby it's close now. Oh, OOOOOOh god it feels so good. Yeah, make me cum. I...I'm... Cum...Cummminnngggggg." Suddenly Greg was aware of a new sensation. He had been so engrossed in lapping at Lynn's pussy that he hadn't been aware of anything else. Suddenly his cock was enveloped in a warmth that shouldn't be. Someone was sucking his cock and he couldn't see who it was. Lynn, was now well on her way into her first intense orgasm in years and she wasn't about to let it end. She almost screamed aloud. "I'm cumming. Oh my god, oh god, I'M CUMMING GOOD. OH MY GOSH, I'M FUCKING CUMMING FOR YOU!" She wasn't the only one surprised. Greg was being sucked and his balls were being held in warm hands that he didn't recognize. By now Lynn was oozing syrupy opalescent fluid and it was being smeared over his mouth and face. That's when he heard a voice. Compulsive Sexual Behavior "Mom? Are you ok? My god he's big. I can hardly get him in my mouth. Did he fuck you yet?" Lynn was still trying to catch her breath as she gasped. "No, not yet Lisa. Just wait. Keep doing what you're doing. I want it this way one more time." She put her hands flat against the wall again and lowered her smooth puffy cunt back down to Greg's lips and whispered. "You're fantastic. Make me cum again that way. Please don't stop now. I loved it that way." Greg needed no urging. A young woman, whom he still hadn't seen, was giving him head, and keeping him on the very edge of ejaculating, while her mother was begging for more. He lifted his hands and held Lynn's ass firmly with one as he slid the other between her thighs. Using his fingers he parted her pussy's lips, and slid two fingers deep inside. She moaned and lifted up ever so slightly, giving him room to twist and curl his fingers as he stroked the swollen lump just under her clit. At the same time his mouth forced the petals of her pussy back and sucked her clit into his mouth. As awkward as the position was, he did manage to continue thrusting his fingers in and out as he held her clit trapped between his lips and flicked his tongue back and forth over its smooth head. It wasn't more than three or four minutes later when she began to sob. "Lisa? Lisa, I'm gonna cum again baby. Yeah, oh god yeah it's good. It's unbelievable. I'm gonna fucking cum again. Oh yeah. Yes, CUMMING AGAIN. BABY? I'M CUMMINGGGGGGGGG." Greg wasn't sure who she was talking to but suddenly she had another climax and a gush of warm sapid fluid flooded his mouth. He quickly drew his sticky fingers out and stabbed his tongue in. She screeched and began to buck back and forth. Her daughter suddenly squeezed his balls and let his cock slip from her mouth.. He heard the room fill with soft moaning sighs. Then Lisa sobbed. "Mom I'm cumming too. Oh god I want it too. I'm so fucking horny mom. I need it too. Can we?" Lynn had pushed herself away from the wall and lifting her leg, got off him. Now Greg could tilt his head up and see who had been so frantically sucking his cock. Lynn's daughter was beautiful. Long auburn hair graced a peaches and cream complexion. She had apparently stripped sometime after coming in and had knelt at the foot of the bed. She had straddled his ankles and begun to suck his cock while stroking her pussy with one hand. Her breasts were somewhat smaller than her mothers, but just like her mother, her body was lithe and firm. Her nipples were taunt; perhaps because she had just masturbated and had an orgasm, He wasn't sure. Lynn looked from her at the foot of the bed, back to Greg, and asked: "can she? I mean would you mind? We always enjoy doing things together and ... well, you know." Greg wasn't sure where this was going, but the thought, "Hell, whatever they had in mind couldn't be anything but exciting." He nodded, and whispered, "Sure, go ahead." Lynn looked at her daughter and nodded. "Go ahead, you first baby. Mommy will play with your nipples just like you like." Greg had intended to get up but Lisa was anxious and straddled his hips. Leaning forward she put one hand on his chest while her other hand lifted his hard shaft upward and began sliding its head back and forth, spreading her slippery juices back and forth. Then she suddenly rocked forward, lifted up, and began to lower herself on his cock. Greg felt the warm slippery caress of her warm pussy as she swept the head of his cock up and down the slippery valley. Next she paused, and suddenly he felt the soft opening just before she began to sink down. The soft opening stretched open, and the sensation of the hot portal swallowing his cock seemed to make his vision blur. Now she paused and put her other hand on his chest as she slowly moved up and down. With each rocking motion he felt more and more of his cock being engulfed and thru it all Lynn was urging her daughter on. "Good girl. Doesn't it feel good? Don't rush honey, he's big and you can do it. Just go slowly and take it all. Here, let me roll your titties between my fingers. That'll make it feel better." Lisa was staring intently into Greg's face. Almost as if asking: "Is it good for you? Do you like fucking me? Can you feel my tight little cunt squeezing your thick cock?" But no words were spoken. She just kept rocking back and forth, trying to swallow his shaft with short thrusts, a little bit at a time until her ass came to rest on the tops of his thighs. She had taken him in deep and completely and she turned proudly to her mother and smiled. Lynn seemed proud in a motherly way and began urging Lisa on. "That's it baby. Slowly, make it last. Your doing good. Doesn't it feel wonderful? Want me to play with your clitty while you fuck him?" Lisa seemed not to hear, and continued to move up and down on Greg's cock, but now she began to role forward and back, moving almost as if rocking to and fro in a saddle. She was rubbing her clit back and forth against Greg's pubes. Soon the room began to be filled with the salacious whispering wet sounds of his pistoning shaft as it plunged in and out of her creamy opening. Lynn was staring at her daughter in awe. She was getting a vicarious pleasure just watching the expression on Lisa's face. Then Lynn must have realized that her daughter was about to cum and turned to Greg. "She's gonna do it Greg. Don't cum yet, please, I want that. Just help her, but save yourself for me. Go ahead, fuck her hard now!" He needed no urging. Reaching down he put his hands around the girl's hips and held her up slightly before driving his cock frantically in and out of the young woman's pussy. Lisa threw her head back, her hair flailing as she wailed aloud. "Ooooh my god. It's good, sooooo good. I'm cumming Lynn. I'm cumming hard. It's now, OH YEAH I'M CUMMING MOM, I'M DOING IT!" Lynn chimed in. "Fuck her harder Greg. Deeper! She needs it deeper and faster Greg. Make it good for her. Do it Baby, fuck my girl deep and hard!" Greg was a blur. His shaft was whipping their juices into a thick creamy goo and his balls and thighs were coated with the wetness of her orgasm. Slowly she crumpled on his chest and lay panting. Unable to speak, she just clung to him and dug her nails into his chest. She was spent. Lynn crawled up beside them and whispered. Wasn't it fantastic baby? Didn't I promise that I'd find the right one for you?" Then she whispered to Greg. "You didn't did you? I mean you saved it for me didn't you? She's so fucking creamy I can't tell if you did or not." Panting he turned to her and gasped. "No, but I came close a couple of times. God Lynn she was good." She smiled and went on. "I'm better. Now it's my turn and I want it every way ever dreamed of. Just stay hard for me." He laughed, "She has me so tightly locked in her pussy that I couldn't go soft if I wanted to. Just give me a minute to roll her off." Moments passed and Lisa began to come to life. Her breasts heaved as she tried to push herself up. Then looking at her mother she giggled. "God mom, I just don't want to let him go. It feels as though we've grown together. You're going to go insane when he does you. It's like nothing you can imagine." Lynn smiled. And whispered. "Don't forget I had you twenty years ago and that didn't happen without some help. But yeah, I think I'm in for one hell of a screwing, if you ever get off his cock and let me have some." They smiled as Lisa lifted up and released Greg. His shaft made a salacious slurping sound as it was released and slapped against his abs. Lynn quickly lay next to Greg as he rolled over. Lifting her legs high he crawled between her yawning thighs and knelt. She drew her legs slightly together and rested them on his shoulders and waited. He had intended to reach down and slide his cock in, but Lisa moved quickly down and laid her cheek on her mother's abdomen and nodded to Greg. "Let me have it. I mean I want to taste what we are like mixed together. Just one minute, let me lick you off, ok?" Greg wiggled forward and entered her mouth. Moments later his cock was lapped clean and Lisa pushed it down, surrendering it to her mother. He slowly move his hips forward, teasing it into Lynn. She was still very wet and with her legs held apart, he needed only three or four slow strokes to completely fill her waiting pussy. She gasped with each thrust and now completely within her he began to thrust. Again Lynn began begging. "Baby, Oh baby deep... Just like that. Yeah it's good. Fuck my pussy good. Oh god I love it when you twist your hips like that. My fucking cunt needs it so much. Go slow darling, I wanna feel it coming on slow. Yeah, just like that Greg. Just like that!" He watched as Linda began sucking on her mothers nipples and with her free hand, she was stroking her clit. Greg was thrusting deep, taking long slow strokes, and sometimes drawing completely out before driving back in. She began to moan and contract harder and harder around his slippery shaft, forcing her pussy to weep smoky droplets of fluid which began to run down the crack of her ass. Soon Lynn began to lift up; arching her back and her mouth went slack. She reached out and clutched her daughters shoulder as she began to moan. "Getting close now. Oh god it feels so good. Greg, Faster now. Oh shit, fuck me faster. I'm almost there. Yeah, now! HERE IT COMES, I'M CUMMING NOW! GIMMEEE IT NOW. RAM IT IN DEEPER, YEAH NOW, OH OOOOOOOH YESSSSSSS!" Greg was fighting to keep from cumming. He wanted to finish, but wasn't quite ready to let himself go. As Lynn writhed on the bed her daughter tried to keep her down, when she finally let out a gasp and sobbed. "Nnnnooooo, more. Oh god no more. I can't breathe. I'm gonna die. Oh my god that's intense. Please Lisa, stop him. Tell him to stop. I need a rest." Greg had other ideas. As Lisa took her lips from her mother's breast she looked at him and shook her head. As soon as he pulled his cock out, Lisa positioned herself over her mother so she was actually straddling her. Greg knew instinctively what to do. Without missing a stroke his dick moved forward and drove into Lisa's pussy. She rocked forward, dragging her hanging breasts across her mothers face. Linda knew exactly what was expected and captured her daughter's nipple with her mouth. Then she bit down gently as her hands moved up to capture and knead her daughter's other breast. It was Linda's turn to beg, and to Greg's amazement the young woman twisted around and hissed over her shoulder. "Pull out and fuck my ass. I want it that way. I want to be fucked up the back way." At that point, Greg was more than willing to do what she wanted. Rearing back he drew out and began to rub the slippery head of his cock over the young woman's tan portal. Carefully, and very slowly he pressed forward. She winched and held tight. A second, slow thrust and she began to relax. By holding pressure on her little star, she finally relaxed enough for his cock to move in just enough to hold her open. Pausing so she could catch her breath, he felt her relax further and he slid in. She said nothing. This wasn't exactly what Greg had intended, but he thought to himself, "If this is what she wants, it's fine with me. Her mother moved her hand down under her daughter and with her palm up, began to stroke Lisa's clit. Greg was nearing his point of no return and at the same moment that Lisa cried out to her mother he lost control. "Gonna cum with you girl. Gonna shoot! Here it comes." Drawing out he held his shaft down and began spewing ribbons of thick cum splattering against Lisa's ass and onto Lynn's swollen pussy. Lisa shuddered and orgasmed at the same moment and quickly worked her way back and began to lap his cum from her mother's pussy. Greg stood there and watched, wondering if she was trying to make her mother cum again, but it never happened. They were spent. Later, after they had showered together and dressed, the three of them sat in the living room and Greg learned why the sales agent had warned him about purchasing in this area. The cluster of homes across the inlet, "Resort Point," was sort of a halfway house for women who were recovering from a disorder called "compulsive sexual behavior." Some were women who had recently been released from a local women's prison and needed rehab, while others, like Lynn and her daughter had voluntarily moved in to be treated. Greg was ruining the recovery process and was actually providing a temptation for these female addicts. He had to choose whether to stay move away. In the end, the two lady psychologists who ran the program ended up visiting Greg two days later and Guess what...