0 comments/ 4155 views/ 0 favorites Intro By: hornysally Hi, I am a blonde gal with vital stats as 38d, 26, 39. I know, its huge. The reason I know so is, coz I see it in the eyes of those men all around me who keep drooling over my body. I can see a desire in those eyes to ravish me. The way they behave when they see me, the cat calls all tell me that if any of them gets a hand on me I'll be made to prey for mercy as I'll be pounced really hard. I have even heard a few of them saying to each other, "oooh look at the bitch, what a gr8 fuck she wud be" and the other one saying "I'll fuck each of those 3 holes on this bitch", and this followed by wicked laughters. To be honest I have got used to all this and to be even more honest, now when I hear these things, it really turns me on. I used to be a normal American gal, who was game to do it with my boy friend but I never really was the adventurous types. But since I have joined this new office, and all the things I hear for myself and attention that I draw from my peers (guys and gals), I have starting getting nasty. So much so, I now contemplate doing it with a girl or something. Yes, I have lesbian feelings. My nipples these days get hard as rocks at the sight of a sexy woman as much as they get hard for those well hung guys all around my neighborhood. This is a story about how a simple but well endowed (read super sexy) gal turned into a slut of the highest order. It all started when I starting seeing a guy who was not only handsome, intelligent and well hung (you bet he was 7" ;)) but also really wild sex lover. As I said I was not averse to sex but was not the adventurous types so it caused me hell of a tough time to cope with his real hard core desires. I mean name a thing and he would do it to me. Fuck me in all conceivable postures from missionary to doggy to me on top to sideways to riding facing away and also making me suck him off and that too all of it down my throat (I would choke initially, but now I have become so hungry). Even as I write all this, my pussy has an almost tingling sensation (may be because the huge dildo is also playing its role well) and my nipples seem they would pierce through my silk tanks. So my date would always end in heart throbbing, body numbing sexcapades. I used to remain so horny all the time that I started responding to almost every guy I met or saw on the road, in my building, office, bus route, almost everywhere, every guy and also I used to lay me eyes on biggy gals. When I told these fantasies of mine to my bf, he said may be we can earn a lot while fulfilling my fantasies. He was obviously happy to find a bitch who was getting more and more nasty and slutty with each passing day. In order to prepare me for getting paid or favors for sex he made go through lesbian sex sessions, gang bangs with his pals and even once or twice he made me take up my pussy and a couple of dildos. I was elated to have so much sex and still being not called a slut officially. Then came the getting paid part. He would use me as bait for landing huge private and govt. orders for his construction business. To some he will introduce me as hi secy who he fucks on desk, while to others as his gf and showing that he was vulnerable to surrender me for the contracts, to still others as a prostitute or his mistress. In nut shell I was used as a bitch from head to toe. I vividly remember getting fucked in my ass, pussy and mouth all at one time and at the same time with one cock each in my two hands while two hands squeezed my tits. I was totally violated that day, night and next day by six old farts. But I must admit these oldies were really big. In all of these encounters, the deal used to be that I will do whatever these men would ask for and my bf will get the contract on his terms. My bf would take pics of me getting screwed, make them into posters and then show me these posters later. On one encounter a guy poured hot chocolate on my left breast and over my pussy and champagne on my right breast and then sucked my off and also he made sure that I returned him the favor. My clothes are all gone now!! I feel like cumming right now I also remember clearly an almost orgy, when 3 guys had to check me out and when I reached the suite of the 5 star hotel I found I was one of the 6 bitches on menu set up by me fucking bf. That night I virtually had an experience of an Arabic Harram or may be a slut house. OOOOOOH, I am so wet right now, lemme help myself, bye for now. I'll write about particular encounters in later chapters Intro to a Dream Made Real Jim had known growing up that he enjoyed bi-sexuality. But he had never found a man attractive the way women were to him. For example, he never found himself wanting to kiss a man, but he liked holding a hard cock as much as he enjoyed touching a wet pussy. He really enjoyed sucking a dick as much as he loved licking a hot hard clit. After moving to a new city, lonely and horny became two conditions he would do almost anything to change. That's when he found himself perusing the "personal services" section of a local "semi-underground" newspaper, looking for a pro to help him out. Thing was, there were only a couple women who looked appealing, but they wanted more than he could go. Looking deeper into the paper he saw many listings for Transsexuals. He saw three that were so feminine, cute, and reasonable, that not only did he want to call them all; he immediately popped a huge woody. Jasmine was a stunning redhead, with gorgeous long hair, big brown eyes, full red lips, and incredible curves. "Her" ad said she was available for sensuous massage! The second sexy tranny, Michele, was a blonde bombshell. Jim couldn't even believe she was a man underneath. Fist off, she was licking her lips in the picture, and looked like she was having an orgasm as her portrait was taken. Secondly, she was even better endowed than Jasmine appeared. He started rubbing his swollen cock through his jeans and hurried on to the last ad that had caught his eye. Portia looked like the sexiest Latina babe he had ever seen. She didn't even mention massage in her ad. Portia was a Transsexual Dominatrix. OMG, thought Jim. Two of his biggest fantasies might be played out in real life if "she" was for real. He had been experimenting with bondage and discipline scenarios for a few years, often tying his cock and balls and feverishly fingering his own asshole as he talked to a phone-sex dom. But they had all been female, and none of them had been available in person. Just thinking about this had him on the verge of an orgasm, so he pulled off his jeans and shirt, and began stroking his rock-hard member in earnest, while alternately pinching his nipples and playing with his cherry asshole. He loved playing with his butt, feeling his muscles tighten down on his finger as he reached for his prostate. All this was too much for him and he came, hard, his juice covering his chest, and spilling onto the newspaper photo of Portia in front of him. Jim's bi-sexual experience had been limited to mutual masturbation and some cock sucking with his friends. But what he really wanted was to feel a hard, hot, live cock deep inside, feel it filling him up, throbbing and banging against his prostate. And now it looked like he could have a dream come true. Without even cleaning himself off, he dialed Portia's number, and hoped her voice would match her feminine looks. It did! Portia was available that very night. She made the arrangements for their appointment, and then became the powerful, stern domina Jim craved. She demanded that he clean himself properly, cleansing his colon, shaving his entire body below his neck, and that he show up naked underneath a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. Jim followed her directions perfectly, hoping to please Portia, and hoping she'd live up to his fantasies. He could barely keep from coming again as he shaved his cock and balls and ass. Showering, he dared not touch his penis, but he found his fingers playing with his ass again, this time two fingers went in as he massaged his sphincter muscle, and stretched himself as much as he dared, trying to reach his prostate just a little. But now it was time, so he dried and dressed as Portia had demanded. Shivering with excitement and a bit of fear, he grabbed his keys and jumped into his car for the lengthy drive, fearful that he'd disappoint his new Mistress if he were late. He started getting afraid as he drove down the freeway. Portia's house was in the semi-notorious "gay" part of town, far away from his new apartment in the suburbs, so he had plenty of time to think. What if she had used somebody else's picture and really looked much more like the male she really was? What I if it was a scam, and he was going to be ripped off? No, he told himself. He had talked to her on the phone and nobody could have such a feminine, sexy voice unless she was truly into her transsexual lifestyle. But what if the domination and bondage were too much for him? How would he handle that? As the miles swept by his thoughts mercifully shifted back to his fantasy. He couldn't believe this was really going to happen. His cock was semi-erect the last half of the 30 mile drive, as his mind drifted through vignettes of a hard-dick in his mouth as his ass was whipped by a cat-o-nine tails. Then he saw himself lying on his back with a gorgeous Latina babe, dressed in red PVC, looking down at him, his legs pinned back behind his head, fucking his ass like he was the girl, as if his ass was a pussy, pounding her throbbing 7 inch dick against his prostate as if it was a G-spot, grasping his erection, mercilessly jerking him towards a screaming orgasm. Then...he realized that he had missed his exit. He sped up, and whipped a U--turn at the next exit, and made it back to the correct exit with minutes to spare. Driving like a crazed maniac, he pulled into Portia's driveway, with two minutes to spare. He'd made it. His heart was in his throat as he stepped out of his car and walked shakily to the stately portico. He thought he might pass out, his breath coming in short gasps, feeling his racing pulse as he reached for the knocker. Gingerly he touched the huge brass lion's-head knocker, lifted it, and down it came, "Crack...crack, crack, crack!" There was no turning back now. He breathed as deeply as he could, trying to slow his pulse, and relax before the Dominatrix opened her door. And there she was—exactly like her picture, but no smile. In fact, she looked angry, and curtly said, "You're late!" He glanced at his watch, and Portia was right. He was 30 seconds late! His heart sank as his cock deflated. Oh no, he thought, what would his punishment be? Before he could guess the answer to that question, Portia's deep, but feminine voice interrupted his reverie, "Get in here, and strip, boy." He stepped into what looked like an ordinary woman's living room, whipped off his shirt, stepped out of his sandals and dropped his shorts, exposing his hairless body, and immediately became completely erect, despite his fear, despite his racing heart, and shaking limbs. Standing before him, Portia had transformed. Apparently, she had been in full Dominatrix costume beneath her robe, revealing her incredibly feminine beauty, and obvious physical prowess. Obediently averting his gaze, he looked down at the floor and directly at the sexiest pair of feet he'd ever seen. Her stilettos were miles high, with shiny black leather and diminutive brushed stainless buckles holding firm the intricate network of slender leather thong laces wrapping delicately, yet snugly around her ankles, calves, over her small knees, tight across her sculpted thighs to meld into her leather thong, amazingly continuing without break around her taut torso up under her pert breasts, exposing them enticingly and lifting them high, and up over her collarbones, and the strong curve of her shoulders to gracefully wrap at last three times round her fine neck. No sign of a penis could be detected as Jim stared open-mouthed. His brazen impertinence was met with swift reprisal as Portia gave her new boy his well-deserved comeuppance. He heard rather than saw the whistle of the crop as Mistress delivered Jim's first lesson. The blow landed deftly bang-on the very tip of his swollen cock-head. Jim felt the breath leave his body as he involuntarily dropped to his knees in pain, tears dripping on his thighs. Seconds later he felt her lips on his neck, as she easily lifted him right to his feet, bent down at her knees, and sucked his pain into her warm, willing mouth. Intro to BDSM "Undress for me, pet." He sits comfortably on the couch, fingers locked behind his head, a curious smile showing his feelings. He watches her stand and reach to unbutton her pink blouse. Her long dark hair falls about her shoulders and she looks him in the eye, an equal, almost daring him. She has never submitted. Never stood with downcast eyes awaiting her punishment for displeasing her dominant, her master. She has never lay, naked, across his lap, over his knee, her full round, white cheeks begging for the hand or the spatula. Or the paddle. She has not yet failed in anything. She has never tried. But, she was woman enough to try to please and see if she could get off being someone's plaything. Someone's toy. To earn a reward, and let Him make all the decisions. He knew what was going on in her mind. Her defiance. Her unwillingness. Her lack of experience. He would show her. Make her submit. Make her beg, and wail. In pain and in pleasure. Still, he smiled pleasantly as she unbuttoned the first button. The second. The third. "Stop." "Hands at your sides." She follows his orders looking at him, her chin up. He waits. He is looking at the bare skin of her chest above the fourth button. The curve of her breasts. Her hard nipples poking through the sheer fabric of her blouse. "Turn around." She starts to turn. "Stop." She stops, her full round bottom facing Him. "Bend over and grab your ankles." She hesitates just a moment. "Every order is to be obeyed." He smacks her ass with a spatula. She bends down and grabs her ankles, trying to see him between her legs. He is still sitting on the couch, though his arms are now crossed on his lap. His right hand swings the spatula. "Grind your ass." "What?" she asks. The smack from the spatula is harder now. Down near the back of her thighs. The skin must be red. Her ass starts to move in circles. "Better. But when I tell you to do something you do it. Understand?" She is too busy moving her ass in circles, trying to keep her balance, her breasts nearly spilling out of her bra and open blouse, too answer. She feels the sting of the spatula, this time on the back of her right thigh. Uncomfortably close to her pussy. "You must answer properly, pet. Try again." "I'm sorry, Sir." "That's better, pet. You must learn." He gently caresses the spots where he smacked her, soothing, rubbing, almost healing. "Do you like this position, my sub?" "No, sir." "Why?" "I feel like a whore, sir." "Would my little whore like to stand up?" "Yes." Too late she realizes her mistake. The spatula strikes the back of her left thigh, then the back of her right. The blows are getting harder. "Sorry, sir" "Very good, whore, you may stand up." She stands up and faces away from him. Her face is more red than the backs of her thighs. It is from the blood rushing to her face from her position, and her shame. She feels just a bit humiliated. But, a part of her likes it. Likes being called a whore, and spanked like a little girl. The fact that she is respected by her friends and neighbors and generally feels superior to them only heightens her humiliation. And fuels the heat that is building between her legs. She can feel her nipples bite as they strain against the fabric of her bra. She feels her pussy twitch when she thinks of telling her friends that she likes to be tied up and spanked and used. She places her man's pleasure above her own. A smack to her right ass cheek brings her back to reality with a jolt. The blow was harder, and larger, and sounded fuller, thicker. A hand. "Did you hear me, whore?" "No, Sir." "You need to learn to pay attention. Count off." With one hand gripping her left shoulder hard, he swats her ass, where the curve of the cheek melds into the thigh. "One, Sir." She is learning. He hits her again, on the other cheek. "Two, Sir." "That's good my whore. You are taking it well," he encourages her. Grips her shoulder harder for a moment and caresses her buttocks, rubs them in circles, squeezes. He is hard. And lets her know by taking her left hand and rubbing it along the length of his thick cock. He backs away and pulls his arm back to deliver another blow. He grasps her shoulder, feels her tense and waits. Her breaths are coming deeper, slower. She relaxes. Whack. She jumps. "Three, Sir." "Good girl." "Thank you, Sir." "You have had enough for your first time, I think." He sits back down on the couch. "Turn around and face me, slut." He watches her turn. Looks into her face. Her eyes are big and teary. Her nostrils flaring as she breathes and her face is red and splotchy. He can feel the heat emanating from her. "Continue to undress." Her fingers trembling, her insides pitching and heaving, she unbuttons all the buttons on her blouse and pulls the tails out of her jeans. Letting it fall over her shoulders and down her back, she pushes her smallish breasts towards him. Still in the bra, her nipples are hard and large. He smiles at her figure. Not too waify and not fat. Healthy. And white. He resists the urge to touch it and caress it. He knows it is better not to, for now. She is clearly confused, watching him sit on the couch relaxed, without touching her. She unbuttons her jeans and begins to shimmy out of them, over her shapely hips and down her tapered legs. Her face is over his lap. He reminds her with a glance at his crotch. She blushes noticeably even with her face already red. She steps out of her jeans and stands up. "Stop." She is standing in the living room, her living room, where she entertains, in her bra and wet panties, hands obediently at her sides, waiting to be told what to do. "From now on, you are not to look at me, slut. Is that understood?" "Yes, Sir." "Yes, Sir, what?" "Yes, Sir, I understand that I am not to look at you." "Close, my whore. You will refer to yourself as John's slut or John's whore. Or, the slut or the whore. How does that sound?" "Yes, sir, Your whore understands." "Very good." He watches her carefully, looking for a reaction. He sees her eyes flutter her chest rises and falls more rapidly than it would normally. "Now finish." She removes her bra and lets it fall to the floor. He studies her breasts, weighing them in his mind. Too small for most breast bondage. But the nipples are nice and long and the areolas wide. Good for clothespins and clamps. He moves down her stomach to her now pantiless crotch. She will need to shave. No whore has pubic hair. A sign that he is her master. She must keep it clean and soft at all times. He will tell her later, when she can take it better. "Turn around. I want to see your red backside." 'Yes, Sir." She turns, showing him the red marks he gave her. She feels the heat from the blows even as she blushes again. "You have been a good girl. Do you want to please me?" "Yes, Sir. Your whore wants to please you." "Then undress me." She proceeds to undress him, slowly, gently, lightly kissing his skin as she uncovers it. "Go ahead, whore, suck my nipples." She expertly moves her mouth around his left nipple. Sucking strongly, using her tongue to flick gently over the nub. Then biting. He smacks her ass hard with his hand. "Did I tell you to bite?" "No, Sir." She goes back to gently sucking and caressing his nipples with her mouth. "O.K. that's enough. Continue undressing me." "Yes, Sir." The dark-haired slut, now wanting to please her master more than ever, removes the rest of his clothing. On her knees, facing his crotch, her breath warms his seven-inch, thick cock as it bounces free of his briefs. "You can kiss my cock, slut." Her lips gently caress the head. It twitches. "You are a good girl. What do you want, now, slut? You want it in your mouth don't you?" "Yes, master, I want your cock in my mouth. Please let me suck your cock, Sir." "Because you asked so nice, slut. You have earned the right to suck my cock." She opens her mouth wide and takes him into her mouth. Her teeth grating on the underside of this member. Ever so gently, clipping the mushroom-like head, her tongue circling around and around the base of the spongy head. Grabbing her hair he holds her head still and begins to push in and out of her mouth. "Yeah. Come on, whore, use your tongue." He picks up speed fucking her face. His cock going down her throat. Using her hole for his own pleasure. Faster. Panting. He listens to her, feels her hands moving up the back of his things, caressing his ass. Faster, harder. Ropes of cum jetting down her throat. Grunting, twisting in her mouth. "Good, slut. Yeah, your master likes that." Pulling out he watches her clean his cock free of all the juices, sucking him dry. "Good, girl. You deserve a reward." Spotting a straight-backed chair just a few feet away, he tells her to stand and bring the chair to him. Positioning it so the back is facing him, he bends her over the chair and ties her arms to the front legs of the chair and her ankles to the outside back leg of the chair. Her round ass is now exposed; to be turned purple if he wants. Her sphincter winking at him between the curvy mounds of flesh. "So what does my good slut want?" She thinks about it a moment and afraid to answer incorrectly, answers cautiously. "Whatever my Master desires." Her pussy is wet and the juices are running down the tops of her thighs. Bent over a chair in her living room. A chair that her neighbor sat it just that afternoon. Oh. God. She feels a cool jelly being rubbed in the crevice between her but cheeks. She shudders. "Will my whore like this?" "Yes, your whore will enjoy this, Sir." 'Enjoy what?" "Your slut will enjoy being fucked up the ass, Sir." "Did I say I was going to fuck you in the ass, slut?" He fingers her pussy and rubs her clit with his left forefinger. His middle finger sinks into her pussy. It clamps around his finger, trying to keep the digit inside. "No, Sir." "Is that what you want? To be fucked up the ass in the middle of your living room, while tied to a kitchen chair?" "Yes, Sir. Oh. Please, Sir." There is a whine, a keen in her voice. She wants it. He can tell. He rubs her clit a little harder. Sinks his middle finger deeper inside her. "Then tell me, whore. Tell me what my whore wants." She gasps and inhales deeply. Her pussy is a puddle. Sticky all over his hand. The lube is warm as he pushes a finger into her rectum. "Tell me." "Oh, Master, if it pleases You, fuck your whore's ass. Fuck my ass, please." He lets her infraction go as he sticks two fingers down her rectum and swirls them about. Then three. She is panting hard and moaning and the chair is sliding, her ass is moving, grinding. Her asshole is open now, blinking at him as he pulls his fingers from it and puts a condom on his thick, wet cock. He stares ate her open hole. His hole. His pleasure hole. Fucking her in the ass, bent over a chair, tied to the legs. Gently, he eases inside of her and hears her gasp and moan. Slowly he gets fully inside of her and swivels his hips, moves around, spreading her, getting her use to him. Then he begins to move back and forth. Slowly, gently, building. Faster and faster. Harder and harder. Holding her shoulders with his hands as he plunges deeper into her rectum. "Do you like that, slut? Do you feel like a whore?" "Oh, yes. I'm your whore, your slut, Master John, fuck your whore." Upon hearing her, he plows deeper and harder, spitting cum into the condom. He slowly grinds to a halt, as he is spent, resting on her back. Sweat dripping onto her already wet back. "You are such a good girl, you deserve a reward." She hears a buzzing noise and feels the vibrations of a thousand humming lips on her pussy. He slides the vibrator into her pussy. She watches him, as he walks into the kitchen. Her pussy gripping the vibrator as her hips buck up and down. Cumming, Cumming. She can't stop Cumming. Intro to DVD I'm an old lady, the gray haired granny worried about blood pressure, not boob size. I'm a prude, preferring a turtleneck to something slinky....most of the time. An old fashioned, conservative, boring product of the baby boom who fears technology even if I do write for Literotica now and then. I twirled the DVD in my hand one more time and knew this was stupid. I've got better sense than this. WTF, I popped the case open, slid it into the machine and sat back to watch my little brother fuck my best friend. Not that I've got any problem with them doing the deed, not even here in my house. Ben's my brother, ten years younger and still a most handsome man. Wendy is an absolute treasure as well as every straight man's dream, 40 DD's hanging on her chest. It's not that they're both cherries but they're not sleep around types either. There has to be some attachment before they ball. Shit, I can't believe I said that, ball. I shook my head of the thought and stared at the screen coming into focus. Showtime, boys and girls, our feature is about to begin. It's the guest bed, now Wendy's room since she left that last loser she was married to. She's been our houseguest for eight months and I hope forever, even if my idiot husband want so screw her so bad it hurts. I know it, she knows it and we both know that moron never will, Wendy has some decency after all. No woman in her right mind would want that lout. Nobody said I was sane, him banging me two nights ago, but that's another story when I feel like writing about husbands who still get their wives drunk to take advantage of them after forty years. No matter, I'm just killing time, just like the video, the camera apparently set on a chair to the side of the bed. Just a bed, nobody in it and then footsteps. Here we go. Two bodies locked in an embrace staggered past the camera. She wore the green pullover, nice choice. Black slacks, nice. They must have been necking in the living room as the pre-loving warm-up. Ben had on the plaid shirt I got him for Christmas. Good choice, even as the two of them slammed onto the bed, their lips still locked on each other's. Getting warm in here, should turn up the air. Damn, that man knows how to kiss. He's driving her wild. Wendy is thrashing, her legs all over the place as Ben kisses her, her nipples busting through. Damn, I thought she had a bra on. The bitch is going wild and so is he, hungry kisses and now the licks. Drive her crazy, boy, make her moan. Moan, sweetheart, show your man you want and you want it bad. Hell, they've still got all their clothes on and it's already too damn hot in here. I popped a button on my blouse to get some air and watched Ben pull her shirt off in one motion. Damn, she does have a bra on, the little red one that barely covers anything. Double damn on those double D's, that girl is begging. "Strip me. Strip me, baby," Wendy panted, her hands ripping open Ben's shirt. So much for that present, have to get another one for his birthday. "Come on, babe. Make me naked. Now." He kissed her hard, almost brutally, his hands sliding behind her back as Wendy torn off his shirt. You could see him fumbling, clumsy boy even with a flimsy little two hooker. Made me wonder how he ever busted the cherry on that Episcopal priest's daughter. The bra was open, her arms fell, waiting for him to bare her. Ben hovered over her and then, with an impish grin, tore her bra off her chest. God, that girl is huge. Wendy arched her back, her nipples hard as diamonds, as she pressed her breasts into Ben's chest. I undid another button on my shirt, the warmth damn nearly killing me and they hadn't even really started yet. Hell, it's my brother, it's my best friend and they're screwing while I get hot. Where's damn justice when I need it. I stared at the television, watching him strip off her slacks and tear open his jeans. I glanced away as his pecker came bare, me not into my brother's equipment. Not like that lucky little bitch of a Wendy. With one twist she spun Ben around and onto his back, Wendy sinking down to worship his pecker. I tried to look away, it's my damn brother, but the sight of his enraged member made me stare. My lover is better but this was nice, I hate to admit it. Hell, call it pseudo-incest, I don't care, it was bleeping hot, watching her lips lock on and go to work. God, she knows how to blow. It just wasn't sucking, she was idolizing his penis with licks and kisses to the head and then down his shaft. She always claimed she gave the best blowjobs on earth but laughed as she said it. It made me take note, I know that, that little trick of the long, slow lick up a cock something I must try next time my man comes calling. I'm more of a sucker, not a licker, but I could change if it didn't get too hot. Hot like my living room, me now down to just one button left closed on my shirt and Ben about to take charge. Gently he guided her head away from his member, stroking her shoulders and then lifting her by the armpits, up and then around under him. Ben hovered over his conquest, Wendy raising her hands to cover her nipples. God, now she was playing the shy girl. If I hadn't been busy undoing my last button and throwing my shirt open I would have laughed my ass off. Hell, that woman shy? She'd done almost everything but a gang bang and now she was playing the innocent? God, I do so love men. Come on, that is what men want, to pop some cherry on us no matter if another innocence is long gone. To give us a first makes a man proud, bragging rights that no other pecker could ever claim. Not that I'd publicly admit it boys, but some girls see things about the same way. I stared at the screen and watched Wendy turn her head to give the camera a wink as Ben clinched her wrists and took her hands away. It was her first video and the bitch was proud. Damn well should be, as hot as this was. I felt my own chest swell, thinking back to the first blowjob I ever gave and it sure wasn't to my husband. Yeah, firsts are a beautiful thing, giving and receiving. About as beautiful as a most hungry man. So hungry indeed, Ben mouthing Wendy's magnificent breasts slowly at first, me watching her nipple snap to attention. Rock hard, as hard as mine. God, at least I was wearing a two hooker, my bra open feeling so much better suddenly. She stroked his head as he suckled harder, trying his best to best her. She'd told me only one man had ever made her come before he entered her but Ben was getting close, it didn't take a bitch in heat to figure that out. Wendy arched her back once and then again as he worshipped her massive globes the way she had adored his pecker. Hungrily he fed, low moans first from his lips and then coming from deep in her chest. He had her, she was nearly to that beautiful point of climax when he must have caught her scent. Ben sucked hard one more time and then began that heavenly descent to her most willing womanhood. I watched, me now bare to the waist, as he kissed down her tummy and then parted her thighs. Wendy clutched his head as Ben began his pleasure torture of her. Slowly he began to kiss her treasure trail, moving downwards as my own thighs opened to let some of the heat out. Wendy groaned once and then again, her hands now guiding him to that sacred spot of womanly joy. Oh God, I could feel my own lover having his way like that, my slacks slipping off, my own chest heaving in lust. You could hear the wetness of her private place as Ben had his way, Wendy's hips now bucking in joy. With one long, slow lick, he'd driven her berserk. "God damn you," she screamed, "give me your cock. Give me your cock. Now." Ben looked up at his woman, his eyes with that lust glare of a man in total domination of the grand prize, and then his head darted back to the sugar nectar of Wendy's lust. Hungrily he drank her joy juices until his woman was totally, completely out of control. "Now, baby," Wendy screamed. "Now. Fuck me, darling. Give me your cock. Fuck me out. Now!!!!!" Like every good man, brother Ben knew when demands meet needs. In no more than a blink of an eye he mounted my best friend, hesitating just for an instant as he admired her breasts one more time before he savagely, brutally slammed his manhood deep into his woman. With one mighty lust scream Wendy arched her entire body and then wrapped her silky thigh around him. Jesus H. Christ, this was a fucking. On and on Ben pounded into Wendy, her body answering his every thrust with one of her own. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her arms draped around him as she gave as good as she got in pleasure. She groaned as she came and then moaned as she came again. Once, twice and then three times more Ben ripped into her wetness before his own body started to go rigid. She groaned once more and then braced herself for one more push. One more time Ben pushed and then exploded inside his woman, his last lust grunt drown by her shriek of pure joy as the scalding hot love poured into her. One more time my own chest heaved and my body quaked. Reality swept over me like a tidal wave. My God, am I an idiot or what? I was sitting in my favorite chair with nothing more than a pair of little white panties on and I'd just watched a DVD of my brother screwing the living shit out of my best friend. I'd watched family bang away and I was the one all turned on. Two exhausted bodies were entangled on the screen and I'm sitting there with soaking underpants and rock hard nipples. I stole a glance at the clock and knew there was just enough time. Just enough but a lady waiting for her lover's arrival had to be quick about it. Me, the gray haired granny had just lost a cherry. I'd never watched a porno before, not even with hubby dearest. I know he did, but not me. That's what happens in the pre-little blue pill days when guys needed help to get it up for the nagging wife. Not the prude though, not the modest little thing I was would have even consider watching somebody else going at it until another man came into my life and started letting me live. Until I became willing to do anything to get into heat for that stallion. The stallion that would be coming by in just two hours now that hubby was away. Two hours, just time enough to get dressed, get in the car and get one last errand out of the way. One last purchase I never knew I just had to have until a little brother and one big breasted friend showed me the way. "What is it you want to do with your new camcorder?" I gave the punk kid behind the counter at Walmart half a grin. I should have just shocked the shit out of him but I'm still a prude. In some ways, at least. I just let the silence go for about ten seconds before I gave him one of those old lady smiles, batted my eyes and told the truth. "I'm going to film a reunion," and sweetheart, what a reunion it turned out to be...but that's for another time. Intro to Film Appreciation She knew from the minute he walked in that it was going to be one of those days. All the signs were there: the stern, determined gait; the tense, steel-like jaw. He was not going to be easy on her today. And she hadn't helped matters by defying him. His instructions were clear but it wasn't as if she'd had much of a choice. She squirmed in her seat, felt the blush cut across her cheek and lowered her gaze. Best not to make things worse. It was all there the first time she met him. She was in the second semester of her junior year and had elected to take a film appreciation class instead of the usual women's studies bullshit. All the feminist crap was wearing thin on her. She'd reluctantly agreed to take on the women's studies minor to appease her advisor. You know the kind - failed hippie who now published overly dramatic poetry in local literary magazines and felt the need to "nurture" raw talent. She really needed to re-think her choice. So when she walked into his class, she was prepared to zone out and spend 90 minutes outlining the premise of her next erotic short story. This time she was thinking of pairing an older woman with a former student who attended the class reunion to finally fuck his Physics teacher. And in the middle of a scene where Dean was bending Mrs. Farber over a chair in the faculty lounge, she felt a strange sense of foreboding. The air was almost still and it seemed like the entire class had gone silent because of it. She didn't think to look up from her notebook because had she done that she'd notice that he was standing right in front of her. "Ms. McKinney? Is there something so much more interesting than my lecture?" Her mouth went dry. "Uh, no Mr. Finn. I'm here." "You may be here but are you paying attention, Ms. McKinney? She could feel the wetness begin to saturate the middle panel of her panties. Two months ago, she had no idea that she'd become his pet. That's what she imagined he called her anyway. She felt like a puppet with strings attached to her nipples and clit instead of her arms and legs. But they never actually spoke or saw each other outside of the classroom. He just ruled her with his intense black eyes, the click of his shoes on the floor and the instructions he emailed her nightly. Instructions that'd made her come more times than she could count. The first of what he called "requests" came the day after she wore that tight black skirt that rode up when she slid into her chair. "Ms. McKinney. For tomorrow's class I'd like for you to participate more in the discussion. Your perspective on the last reading was enlightening and I think that your insight would contribute greatly to your fellow students' understanding of the text. I also request that you slump a little further down in your chair and spread your legs wider so that I can see your cunt. And don't wear panties." She rubbed herself raw that night, coming in wave upon wave of vivid imagery. She imagined him between her thighs, dragging his tongue through her slit slowly and meticulously. He'd stop at her clit and circle the hard bud with such force that she'd flood his mouth with her come. She was so embarrassed by how breathless and turned on she was fantasizing about him this way. Then she'd stick her fingers in her pussy and come three more times. The next day she sat in the front row directly in front of his desk, just as he'd instructed. She slid into her chair and relaxed her legs so that they fell open slightly. Enough so that he could stare at her bare pussy (per his instructions) while they watched Goodfellas and marveled at the genius of Martin Scorsese's play on light and dark in the film. The light of the film projector reflected perfectly off of her slick pussy lips. And so it began. Every Thursday from 6-9 pm she'd sit in class and explore the way his khakis hugged his ass and the curve of his cock underneath the stiff fabric. She'd press her thighs together when he turned his back to her, stretching his long, muscle-roped arms to write something on the board. Then she'd run home and check her email to prepare for his next request and come hard while her fingers were buried deep inside and her right nipple was painfully pinched between her teeth. He showed absolutely no mercy. And the day that he walked into class and she wasn't sitting in the seat that he'd requested she sit in the night before, he brought 'no mercy' to a whole new level. She was running late for class and when she walked into the room, she noticed that someone was sitting in her seat. Her heart stopped for a second and she nervously glanced at his desk to make sure he wasn't watching. To her relief, he hadn't yet arrived, which gave her some time to remedy the situation. "Uh, excuse me? Hi. I think you're sitting in my seat." "There aren't any more seats and I can't sit in the back again," said the skinny blond. 'I have a hard time hearing." She looked in the direction that blondie was pointing and saw a seat in the back left corner of the room. Her heart raced. She didn't have much of a choice and when she heard him enter the room behind her, she quickly slipped to the back and slid into the seat. The good professor moved to his desk without making eye contact with anyone. He dropped his briefcase and the loud thump made her clit throb. He immediately turned toward the front of the room, grabbed the chalk and wrote the following words on the board: "Desire followed the glance, pleasure followed desire." She actually thought her heart might stop beating right then and there. "How far is one willing to go for the person they desire?" he asked. He turned and let his gaze travel slowly across the room, as if he was trying to capture everyone's attention. When he finally reached her, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn't place. "In 1870, Leopold von Sacher Masoch introduced Venus in Furs to the world," he said. "This was the first time that Masochism would be openly explored. In fact, the word Masochism is derived from the author's name. But as you know, the release of this classic work was not without its consequences." She felt her skin grow hot, like a fever slowly building. She licked her parched lips and begged him with her eyes to stop staring at her. If she could've yelled out and rushed to kneel before him, she would have. "Though nothing could ever capture the essence of Masoch's groundbreaking novel, there was an attempt made in 1969 by director Jesus Franco. Let's take a look at a cinematic interpretation of the book and discuss, shall we? It was as if he was taunting her and as he turned on the projector and dimmed the lights, she swore she'd heard the word 'submit' whispered. To her dismay, he decided to sit facing the class. It was dark so while everyone was engaged in the images that danced across the screen, she could feel his eyes on her. She'd disobeyed and he was punishing her without even touching her. How was that possible? Each second felt unbearable upon her skin and she finally decided that she could take no more. She grabbed her belongings and quickly made her way to the door, acutely aware of the fact that he was following close behind her. As she made her way into the hallway, she felt his hand close around her neck and she gasped in surprise. His actions forced her to stop and turn just as he pushed her against the wall. "Now Ms. McKinney. What's the hurry? Did I upset you or did you finally realize that you disobeyed a direct order?" His features were harsh and she couldn't help but notice that his hand grew tighter around her neck as she stared into his dark eyes. "Sir, I am so sorry. I did not mean to disobey your orders. Someone was in my seat when I got here and I had no choice but to choose another one." She felt her eyes bulge as he squeezed tighter and a little trickle of spit leaked from the corner of her mouth. His eyes immediately darted to that spot and almost instinctively, he licked at the droplet. And then he let go. "Well Ms McKinney. I guess we'll have to figure out a way for you not to make the same mistake again, hmm? What do you think should be done?' "I think he who lets itself whip, earned to be whipped," she whispered. "Very good, pet," he whispered back. She could see his eyes light up and his pupils dilate into thick circles. The air around them grew still and she noticed that he'd tensed his jaw again so that she could see the muscle and bone flexing beneath the skin. His eyes bore through her and for a second, she thought she'd seen a darkness that frightened her just enough to excite her. Without a word, he moved in close and she thought he would kiss her but he didn't. And as he walked back into the classroom, she was left standing in the hallway, confused, scared and intensely turned on. What just happened? Should she return to the classroom or walk away and risk the consequences? With a smile, she turned away from the door, deciding that this would be a good time to check her email to find out what those consequence might bring. She was sure she'd made things worse. But somehow, she thought Masoch would be proud. Intro To My Life This is a story of my family life. Family being, me, my wife Trish, and her daughters Tracy and Teri. We live a relatively open lifestyle as you will soon learn. I hope that you enjoy the accounts, and I welcome your comments and feedback. I never would have dreamed that I would be living the life I live today. In fact, my whole life has been filled with pleasant surprises and good fortune. I grew up as an only child in a comfortable middle class home in the Midwest. I went to college without knowing what I really wanted to do with my life. In my junior year, my grandmother passed away and left me a trust fund worth a little over a million dollars. It produced a quarterly income that allowed me to live without the pressure of having to struggle each month to make ends meet. My lifestyle wasn’t lavish by any means, but I didn’t need to worry about starving either. When I graduated from school I still had no idea what I wanted to do next. I decided to go to massage school. I liked touching bodies and although I knew I wouldn’t make a lot of money, it was respectable work and I could relax and enjoy what I was doing. Shortly after I finished massage school my life changed radically. I bought a lottery ticket on a whim. I had never ever bought one before. I guess it was beginners luck, but I won almost thirty million dollars! Suddenly I was deluged with mail and phone calls from every venture seeker needing capital, and scam artist known to man. I looked around the country and decided to move to Arizona. I found a town in the high desert and moved within a few weeks. There I met an architect and together we drew plans for my new home. That was five years ago. I moved into the house about eighteen months later. I spent a good deal of the construction time traveling around the world and exploring. All of the travels helped to convince me even more that I had chosen the right place to live in Sedona. And as I began to meet people and make friends in town, my decision was confirmed even more. I joined a country club and settled into a life of leisure. I let it be known that I was a certified massage therapist, but didn’t share too much more about my good fortune in the lottery. I had learned my lesson. I was meeting a lot of nice people and doing a few massages on selected female clients, but my sex life was nothing to brag about. I had been with a total of six women since my big win, and I hadn’t felt compelled to pursue a long term relationship with any of them. We dated and remained friends and had occasional sex but nothing special. Then I met Trish. I had made an appointment have my hair cut. She was the third person I had tried in town, not having been impressed with the first two. I liked her from the moment I met her. She was pretty in a classy kind of way. Short blonde tipped hair and a slender figure were the noticeable features but her smile almost made me melt. She welcomed me to her station in the shop and we talked for several minutes before she even touched my hair. We continued to chat while she worked on me. I learned that she was about ten years older than me, but I never would have guessed it. She was divorced and been raising her two daughters for the past seven years. She was very proud of the girls and bragged about how well they did in school and how pretty they were becoming as teens. I had never felt this comfortable with a woman before. When I mentioned that I was a massage therapist, Trish sighed and told me how much she really needed a massage. I had heard that sort of thing before of course, but I suggested that we make an appointment later in the week. Trish said she was free the next night and that we could trade my haircut for her massage. I asked if that was cool with her manager and she said that the other stylists did it all the time. She rented her chair so she was free to do as she chose. We made a date for the next night and I went home with a smile on my face and a warm feeling inside, looking forward to when I would next see Trish. Intro to My World I was one of those who romanticized the whole event. Post-apocalyptic, less than a percent of all humans alive, that was the dream. As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. For it happened. This is where our story takes place. Magick is what people call it. As one of those who worked on making them, I know that this is not Magick. It's nanotech. Teeny tiny machines, living off of the world, the humans and the animals. All things that weren't "compatible" got killed off. The rest of us were forced to survive the resulting social breakdown. The few of us that were left simply couldn't handle the breakdown society. Whole countries moved into single towns to try and keep some form of society going. We reverted. Brothels formed up, and the law disappeared. Survival of the strongest was once more the rule, but now everyone was strong, and the world itself was weak. Wars were waged of greater intensity than any before, and only a handful of people were involved. Those who's Magick were weak got enslaved and forced to do unimaginable things, and never allowed peace. I, did not move with them. I found a thriving piece of land, with nut and fruit trees, scavenged some livestock and seeds, and set out to survive on my own. My house was strong and big, my dining hall decked in beauty. This was, after all, what I had dreamed of. I despised it, for you see, I was alone. The living wasn't bad. The few forays I made into the town a few hundred kilos away proved that I was far better off than most. None of them had any food, but the Magick kept them alive. Entertained with bouts of fire erupting from mouths, wings sprouting from backs, glamours cast from charismatic leaders and an ease of life never before experienced. But they never had food. They didn't need it of course, the Magick keeping them alive. But that didn't mean that they weren't hungry. Thirsty. No, those stayed, but everyone did their best to ignore them. I knew this couldn't last. The machines would eventually break down. They were never intended to be immortal. I saw them play, and change their bodies. They laughed with the improvements, and corrupted themselves and the world. I envied their ignorant freedom. Thus came the second breakdown. The Magick disappeared. Any people with alterations to their bodies had to remain that way. Enter the vampires, the dragons, the werewolves, the hybrids, the fae and any other of their brethren. All of them had abnormal abilities and changes, all of them were unique. And the world itself sighed a near audible sigh of relief as everything became more stable. This is my world. Here I kept my strength, my speed. Those were my only augmentations. But unlike the rest, I had a cache of Magick left over. A special supply that was in fact immortal, and this was my secret. This I could use to infuse someone, and later remove it from them as well. This I regularly used to increase my strength more and more, making me a more than suitable fighter against all those who would oppose me. Soon after the second breakdown, people ventured out. They needed food, all in different forms, but I was surrounded by a world that was full of hungry creatures, all in different forms. My area was protected with all manners of traps and mythical deterrents, but nobody was safe. Least of all the man with the food. But I stayed where I was. After all, I had prepared for his day. I had walls, protections and numerous other defenses. And maybe with all my supplies I could attract those to share it with, someone, something that would make my living heaven instead of hell. That is what I desired above all other things. And soon that attraction came. Within a month I started having vivid dreams of a young female vampire, with the uncanny ability to turn into a werewolf. She haunted me for months, but she never came. Dragons came to burn down my estate, but were slain. Zombies arrived, but were easily slain in their solitude. However, several of those monsters had a lasting impression on me. And to my great chagrin, I later realized that all those monsters were the same person, the same person with their own source of Magick. And she ruled my world, my every waking moment. Every single one of my fetishes she satisfied, and in time she allowed me to love her, to stay with her and to always be together with her.