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Too Much

By: pooch88



I just could not take all of him.

I had just moved to a one-horse town in central Pennsylvania. I was most displeased with my circumstances, not mind you with the promotion or the huge raise in pay, but with the idea of having to spend the next three years in this dismal place. 

My best childhood friend, Kathleen had done her time in the armpit of the world and now it was my turn. The job was challenging but the community was. So far form my Manhattan home I was sure I would be miserable. 

Upon arrival I called Kathleen and asked her just how she survived this place. Her reply to me was. Call Shan and tell him you are a friend of mine. He is filthy rich and showed me the best time a girl can expect in that dump of a town. I told Kathleen that there was no way I could be so forward as to call someone I did not know and ask to see him. She assured me that Shan would be most pleased with my looks and would show me a great time. She also warned me that even if I was six feet tall and of gorgeous proportions she doubted that I could handle the man she was referring to. She farther told me to use her name and just give the man a call. I ended the conversation with a definite maybe. 

The following days were filled with unpacking and more work than I could stand, but after several weeks I found my footing and started to pull my life together. As I had more spare time on my hands I started to think about my situation more and more. Here I was twenty eight years old living my dream of making six figures a year and alone as anyone can get. My boredom started to wear on me, the phone call to Kathleen, was boring a hole in my brain. After almost a year in this place I knew I just had to have a man or I would go out of my mind. 

I made the plunge I rummaged and found the number Kathleen had give me with trembling hands I called the number. A very masculine voice answered the phone. I blurted out that I was a friend of Kathleen and that I was calling on him by way of Kathleen’s advice. He immediately asked me were we could meet and how was Kathleen. As he spoke he made me feel so comfortable, my fears just vanished. I could not wait to meet this man, this voice that had made my feminine parts water with just the sound of his voice. The date was set we would meet at Harleys bar and Grill Saturday night at 7:00. The days just dragged my mind ran away with me. I was finally going to get to speak with a man, the man with that voice. Not some man I had to deal with daily at work but a real man who knew nothing about me, or I him, the thought was thrilling. 

On Saturday morning I drove the 50 plus miles to Harrisburg and purchased some naughty clothing. Not something sluttish mind you, just a little naughty. A rather low cut sweater to show off my large and I like to think perfectly shaped breasts. I also bought a wool Kilt that was just a touch on the short side. This coupled with the just right high heals completed the outfit.

By 6:30 I was frantic, my mind telling me I was a tramp, my mind also telling my to just go for it. I went for it. I drove to Harleys and parked right out front. The place was a dump I would not have been caught dead in a place like this. I went in. There were three patrons at the bar. One with a chain drive wallet and two teeth a very young looking fellow who had just come in from one of the farms in the area, and this hunk, this Adonis this man of a man. He stood a good six foot four inches he had white hair and emerald green eyes he was the picture of my perfect man. This was my wildest fantasy come true he was in a word, Gorgeous. The first thought that came to mind was one of the two men sitting with this gorgeous hunk of manhood was Shan. You can only imagine my relief when he approached me and said with that perfect voice are you Rita. I am sure I sounded like a corking frog with my reply, of yes I am Rita and you must be Shan. His reply. “Yes I am Shan. Shall we leave this place? I know a great place to get some great hot dogs with this most fantastic sauces”. I told him I would love to go with him 

If only he knew. 

I would have gone to a dogfight with this man. The place Shan took me was only a little better than Harleys, but the beer was cold and I could feast my eyes on this man. I was in heaven after my long celibacy. We danced, we drank and danced some more, and I was in heaven. At exactly 12:00 Shan looked at me and told me he was going to go home. He had to sleep before the competition tomorrow. I asked him what competition and he told me. “ The shooting competition”. He asked me, if I would like to attend. I was stunned, Sunday is my catch up on the housework day, but with an invitation like this how could a girl resist. I found myself saying yes before I could get control of my thoughts. 

Shan took me too my car and with a peck on the cheek he drove away with the agreement we would meet again at 8:00 for a light breakfast. I was thrilled. 

I went home knowing I was going to bed this man among men or die trying. I melted into a warm tub and with a brand new razor I shaved my pussy bald. I just knew this man would like it this way. I have kept myself this way since college but tonight I shaved with a purpose.

The one thing this town has is going for it is a quaint little farmers market were you can get a breakfast for under three dollars that will not only fill you up but also make your mouth water. 

I met Shan at the front door and almost immediately my fluids started to run. I simply had to have this man in my bed. We ate a leisurely breakfast while we spoke of shooting and the competition that he felt was going to be at the shooting range for today’s tournament. I was just thrilled to sit and listen to him speak. Here I was a woman of the world listening to this man like a schoolgirl on her first date. What was the matter with me? 

After a wonderful meal we went to the Shooting range and Shan won the meet along with the two thousand dollar prize. He was happy and told me it was time to celebrate. We got in his car and went to the nearest bar/restaurant we could find. This place was a cut above Harleys but not the Ritz by a long shot. We dined and danced; I was in heave with this hunk of a man. At 12:00 midnight Shan told me he would have to go home. I asked him to come over to my home and have a nightcap. It was several seconds before he gave me the answer that he would love to come over and have a drink before he turned in, but there was something I should know. “ I am not an ordinary man you may not want me when you find out the truth about me.” I buffed at his answer and told him there was nothing he could show me I had not seen before. 

Sometimes I am a fool.

We arrived home and I poured Shan double Bourbon and the same for myself. We sat on the couch in the living room and snuggled with each other. I placed my hand on Shan leg and quickly drew it back again. He was right. Here was something I had never dealt with before in my life. I have always been somewhat of a size queen but here was something that was beyond my thinking I had touched Shan along side of his knee and my fingers had brushed against a monster. This was not a Dick I had felt. It was a weapon, I am not good at estimating feet and inches so I will not ponder a guess as to it’s dimensions, all I can tell you is that this man was hung like no other I have had. I attentively returned my hand to his leg and we kissed passionately, but nothing could have prepared me for what was inside this man’s pants. I simply had to have a look I undid his belt and pulled down his fly reached inside and was shocked to find there was just no way I was going to release this monster without having Shan stand and trop his trousers. He slid out of his jeans and to my delight there was the biggest shaved cock I had ever seen. Just like the man himself it was huge, it was thick. I immediately knew I was in trouble. There was just no way this man was going to fuck me with that equipment. There was just too much of it. I blurted out that this was something beyond my realms of capability. Shan soothed me and told me he would be gentle with me. He also told me that no woman had ever taken all of him and that he did not expect me to take all of him, but he felt that I would be able to take more of him than any of the other women who had been with him before. 

The gauntlet had been laid down I just knew that even if I couldn’t take this monster I was going to have a great time taking as much of it as I could. I stripped in a flash I told Shan I simply had to have a go at this cock of his. I went to the bathroom and got the personal lubricant I knew we would need it no matter how wet I was at the sight of this beautiful man. So tall so blond and those eyes I just had to try and take him all of him. I knelt in front of this man and took hold of the monster between his legs it was all I could do to hold it in my hands. Giving him a blow job or taking this tool into my mouth was out of the question he was just too much I tried to get the head of this monster in my mouth but the best I could do was just half of the head it was huge. 

Shan gently laid me back on the sofa and told me to relax. Try as I might there was just no way I was going to relax knowing that no matter how wet he made me he was going to fuck me with that tool of his. He kissed and licked all of the right spots he had me on the verge of orgasm several times but the size of his equipment just kept hushing threw my mind. After several minutes I pulled him to me I just had to try this man among men. 

Shan took a great handful of the clear jelly and placed it on his throbbing member he also gave my freshly shaved pussy a great handful. He then in the most gentle voice I have ever herd from a man asked me if I was ready to take him as a lover. I told him I just had to have him, the sooner the better. He placed me gently on by back placed my legs in the crook of his arms and told me to place his cock at the entrance I wanted him to penetrate. I placed the huge monster cock at the entrance of my soon to be ravaged pussy and smiled at Shan. He gave me a strange look and said “ Lady I am going to make you scream”. Scream I did in one mighty thrust he sank his weapon into me there was a ripping feeling and then a white hot searing pain, a pain that took my breath, took my breath away I passed out from the pain I had never in my life felt anything like this. As I told earlier I am a bit of a size queen but nothing could have prepared me for this onslaught. As I regained my head. I was aware of this feeling this awareness of agony. This man was killing me with his cock and I had asked him to do it. My senses slowly returned to me, I looked down between my legs and was horrified to see that Shan had only about half of his organ inside my poor ravaged pussy. I begged him to stop and his reply was if you are a friend of Kathleen then a little of this is just what you need. He fucked me for an hour and a half before he finally came in my poor well-fucked pussy.

When he finally pulled his cock out of my pussy I just knew this was not the end of it. I tried for two more years and never did get more than three quarters of that thing in my poor pussy. 

I have now moved back to Manhattan and Shan is still the man I love with all my heart but he is just too much man for me. There is just no way I could be fucked like that for the rest of my life. He asked me to marry, I only wish I was woman enough 

Any of you think you can handle Shan drop me a line I will give you his number. He truly is a God among men.

Too Much?



I grasped the back of her head tightly and tilted it back with a rough jerk of my wrist. Her mouth fell open in a moan and before she could resist, my lips were upon hers, claiming them with a violent need that enveloped us both. I felt her hands glide over my curves, coming around to my front to massage my breasts as my tongue invaded her mouth, dancing across the inside, tasting the passion upon her own palate. She gave a light squeeze as a mew escaped her. I broke the kiss, both of us coming up for a quick gasp of air before I plunged us down again.

Without hesitation, I had her laid out in my bed, her white skin a stark contrast to the deep green of my comforter. Her tongue flicked out to wet her painted lavender lips and her black nails clawed at my tank top. Gladly I whipped it off and tossed it across the room, straddling her with ease as my bare breasts swayed and my nipples came to a rosy budding. She purred softly, reaching up to rub her thumbs over the perfect points. I jolted slightly at the contact but my hips began rotating in approval. 

I pushed up the hem of her t-shirt and exposed her own beautiful orbs. I filled both my hands with them and kneaded the flesh gently, pinching her nipples between the knuckles of my fore and middle fingers. Her hazel eyes fluttered shut again and her back arched into my touch. I easily bent over, my long blonde ponytail tickling the sensitive tip of her right breast. She let out a louder moan. I quickly fed off of it, latching my mouth onto her left breast and suckling eagerly at it. She began writhing with need, reaching a hand under my skirt to massage my mound.

The moan against her breast must have triggered something because it did not take long for her to flip me and reverse our position. She ground her knee into my crotch and continued playing with my nipples. Flicks, pinches, and twists all sent agonizing pleasure through me. It was almost too much, until without warning, she stopped. I opened my blue eyes briefly and through her black curtain of bangs met her gaze. She lowered herself to her stomach on the mattress; her hands gliding down my sides then up under my skirt. I felt the tug at my lacey underwear. I lifted my hips and felt the material slide down my legs slowly, seductively. Her hot breath was fast against my skin and I felt a ripple of anxiety as moisture seeped from my core.

My hips bucked suddenly as her mouth latched onto me, her tongue flicking out to attack my swollen clit. My silken folds were easily parted by her eager tongue. I moaned, gripping the sheets of my bed as my body undulated to the rhythmic movement of her mouth. This goddess was sampling my flower as one tastes sweet wine. She lapped at the folds. I felt myself cream so easily at her touch. Her attentions drove me higher and higher. Her tongue was soft against me and I nearly screamed from desire.

Pausing for a moment, she hoisted herself up and straddled me. She turned to present her lovely shaven cunt. Already glistening, her lips beckoned me like silky drapes of sweet dessert. I reached up and stroked the slit with a single finger. She shivered and uttered a gleeful cry of delight. I repeated my motion, down then up. Another shiver; another moan. Encouraged, I slid my finger deeper, stroking her within. Trying to distract herself, I felt her bend down, her mouth approaching my flower once more. She planted a sweet kiss just below my belly button and trailed the kisses continuously down.

I squirmed with need and tried to focus long enough to lift my head to kiss her. My tongue slipped out to taste her sweetness. I felt her jerk as I found her tasty little clit. I flicked it vigorously a few times with my tongue, all the while feeling her getting closer to my own. I tried to focus solely on my prize, but felt her hot kisses getting closer to their goal.

When her lips latched onto my sensitive bud I all but collapsed with the need to climax. My mind went numb and thoughts became incoherent. The final blast threw me over the edge. I felt myself explode as climax barreled into me without mercy, throwing my body into convulsions. My hips bucked violently and I heard her gleeful cry. "Cum for me, baby!" 



Too Much Drinking on Thanksgiving



A work of FICTION!!!

*

Our turn to host. Oh well, it beats a God awful long drive, in traffic, with crappy food to boot. 

We had about twenty five ranging from 11 to 86 years old. People arrived at noon, we had thanksgiving dinner at 2, and the grandparents left around 5. All in all, a good time. Good food, great wine and a few laughs. The wine was still flowing when Christopher, now a freshman at The University of Wisconsin, started talking about the parties and drinking and fraternities at school and how unbelievable it was. My wife's two brothers, 42 and 46, and seasoned (understatement) partiers themselves, dismissed it as been there done that. But Christopher persisted, saying that the type of drinking that went on was beyond their comprehension, and went so far as to say they wouldn't last a week. Tim and Jeff laughed and made jokes about "your cute little beer parties".

Next thing you know, as Regina and I are cleaning up the kitchen, the three of them are doing shots of tequila at the kitchen table. We looked at each other and exchanged the old this won't end well look. 

They tried to get us involved, and we each had a few shots, but were able to avoid the full on assault. By 9 o'clock the kids were down, and the three boys were still going at it, having a merry old time. It was at this point we realized Christopher was in way over his head. He was plastered! I think he was doing two or three shots, to every one for Tim and Jeff. Definitely not gonna end well. 

They were very funny however and even got Regina and I to do another shot until finally, thank God, we ran out of tequila. Tim and Jeff told Christopher they were just getting started and they were taking him out. Christopher stood up, staggered, said your on, and rumbled down the hall to the bathroom. Regina gave her two brothers a lecture, telling them they shouldn't drive, and that they had better be careful with Christopher. This is when we found out that between the two of them they had only had four or five shots each, and that Christopher had drunk about three quarters of the bottle himself. A sort of mini argument followed, and the boys felt they were just teaching him a lesson. 

After about 10 minutes, we realized, "Where the hell is Christopher?"

Down the hall we go, to find Christopher out cold on the floor in the bathroom. Great! 

Well, we tell Tim and Jeff to take off, and leave the take care of Christopher duties to us.

Regina and I were laughing and remembering times we found ourselves in similar situations many moons ago. After the wine and tequila we weren't feeling much pain ourselves. We headed back to the bathroom to see if we could get Christopher off the floor and in to the guest room. Every time Regina bent over to try and rouse him, I would slide my hand under her skirt and rub her panty covered pussy. She would laugh and stop, and say "Please don't get me horny." 

Of course that was all I needed to keep it up until she was nice and wet. She turned around and we were making out as she rubbed my cock and pronounced, "The sooner we get Christopher into the guest room, the sooner you can fuck my brains out!" 

Nothing better than a drunk but not too drunk, really horny Regina. Maybe this Thanksgiving was gonna end well after all. Or so it seemed until we stood Christopher up, and he threw up all over himself! 

"Oh this sucks!", I thought to my self.

We got Christopher into the shower, and he was totally out of it. Regina was stripping him out of his vomit covered clothes and rinsing them out and washing him off at the same time. Christopher was down to his boxers and barely supporting his own weight in the shower when out it came again, right down his chest and all over his boxers too. Without thinking too much about it, Regina stripped his boxers off while I supported him. 

At this point Regina started giggling uncontrollably. I wondered what was so funny, thinking if she is laughing at his shriveled up drunken penis, that's really not cool. 

While laughing even harder, she said, "There is a lot more to clean up here than I thought." 

I looked down and saw one of the biggest dicks I've ever seen in my life. 

"Jesus...that is quite a ahhh." 

"Cock?" Regina asked. 

"Well, I was gonna say penis but..." 

"Honey, take another look," she said while still giggling and washing out his boxers, "that...could only be called a cock." 

We were both laughing our asses off when she reached up and grabbed it. It looked even bigger in her hand. She grabbed a can of air freshener from the back of the toilet and held it next to it. Not quite as long but definitely thicker!! 

"That's impressive," Regina mouthed to me. 

"Ahhh, is there a reason you're still holding it Reg?" 

"I'm just making sure he is all clean," she said as she inspected it closely while grinning ear to ear. 

Yes, ok, this was now turning me on, I admit it. I was tenting my pants quite a bit and of course Regina noticed. She reached over and rubbed my crotch, she was obviously hotter than hell at this particular moment. She unzipped my pants and fished out my hard as a rock cock and stroked it, still holding Christopher's dick as well. The comparison was shall we say, unflattering. He was in fact bigger limp than I was fully erect. 

"Should we take him to the guest room, or should we take him into our room," Regina asked, seductively, eyebrows going up and down. Kidding, ...I think!

"Alright, you know what, dry him off, and we will get him to the guest room and I'll do my best to put out your fire, okay?" Christopher at this point began snoring which had us laughing again. After putting myself back in my pants, I held him up while Regina dried him off. Of course she took extra care to dry off his big dick and was flopping it up and down off his stomach and legs. It started getting hard!

I asked Regina to grab his legs, and we'd carry him to the guest room. I had him around the chest and had the bulk of his dead weight. She tried grabbing him by the ankles but he was too heavy. She then got him under the knees and we were able to lift him. She was now uncomfortably close to his almost fully hard cock, that was in fact, enormous! With his balls up against her wet blouse, and at every step, his dick being moved from his stomach to straight up and back to his stomach, it was quite a sight. Regina couldn't stop giggling but also couldn't take her eyes off it. We got him into the guest room and onto his back on the bed, snoring away yet hard as steel. 

Regina quipped, "There's gonna be some happy young ladies in Madison the next few years." 

I laughed and agreed and I said I was going to get some clothes to put on him. I went and got a pair of boxers and a tee shirt and I headed back to the guest room. As I walked back into the guest room there was Regina, one hand stroking up and down Christopher's incredible erection, the other between her legs furiously rubbing her pussy. Fucking hot!!! 

I slowly walked in and she opened her eyes, way far past the point of being embarrassed. I pulled her skirt up and pulled her underwear down. I took my rock hard cock out and pressed it against her ass. I started talking to her. 

"You like that big cock don't you," I whispered in her ear, Christopher still snoring loudly. 

"Oh my God yes," she gasped rubbing her pussy harder. 

"I bet you'd love nothing more than to stuff that big dick right in your pussy right now wouldn't you Reg?" 

"Oh FUCK," she cried out. Thank God the kids were upstairs! She was on fire. The next thing she said shocked me!

"Honey, how would you feel about going and getting a condom?" 

Holy shit! 

"Really?" 

"We'll only if you are okay with it, but I think I'm too drunk to cum just from my hand, and if you don't mind... I think I might make it if you know..."

"You want to?"

"Do you mind?"

"Ummm, I guess not. As long as there are, you know, no long term ramifications."

"Did you just say ramifications?"

More hysterical yet nervous laughter.

"Honey, this will never happen again. I know that and you know that. It's more like a sex toy than anything else. But if you are okay with it, I would love to do it. I have never, ever, had anything like this. And I'd kinda, just this once, sorta, ...would like to see what it would be like? Ya know? But if you are not 100% cool with it, we can stop right now. But if you say it's ok, I swear I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Well how could I say no to that.

"I'll be right back."

Off I went to see if I could even find a condom. I actually wasn't sure I had one. I remember thinking, I'll let fate decide. If I don't have one, then it wasn't meant to be. If I do...so be it. Sure enough I had one left, from a long time ago.

When I got back to the guest room, Regina was up on the bed, skirt and panties on the floor, Christopher's dick in her hand, only inches away from her mouth. 

"Can I ...?" 

"Regina, I love you more than anything in the world, if you really want this, knock yourself out!"

I handed her the condom and said, "No regrets okay?"

"Oh my God, you are NOT gonna regret this!"

With that she leaned down, opened her mouth as wide as she could, and put the giant head of his cock in her mouth. I walked around behind her and put my mouth on her sweet cunt. God this was hot! She couldn't get any more than the head of his cock in her mouth but she enjoyed licking it all over. Finally she opened the condom and started trying to roll it down his shaft. She looked at me nervously giggling and said "Now I know why they make those large size ones." 

More nervous laughter. 

She really couldn't get it on him. 

"Help me."

Oh come on, this is too much. 

"Babe, I'm working with you all I can here. But if you think I'm putting the condom on for you...you are sadly mistaken!"

Just as I finished my sentence, it popped over the head and she rolled it down till it was fully rolled out and at least an inch of cock was still uncovered. She got down and drooled all over it. She asked me to stand at the foot of the bed. She spun around facing me, her ass facing Christopher, and threw her leg over him. She started rubbing his saliva covered cock all over her wet pussy. She raised up, put the head of cock against her pussy and started slowly applying pressure down. Holding on to his legs she lowered herself down more and more. I was standing there in awe watching this huge cock stretch her to the max. She just looked so fucking beautiful. She asked my to please take my cock out and stroke it while I watched her. She quickly ripped her blouse and bra off so she was totally naked. She then, finally, got his entire cock all the way in! Holy shit!

She started moving back and forth, squeezing her nipples, eyes closed with a face that I couldn't tell wether it was due pain or pleasure. I would later find out, both! She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Oh my God baby I am gonna cum so fucking hard!" "Oh my fucking God!" "Come closer, cum with me, oh my God shoot your cum on me while I ride this awesome fucking cock!" "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Fuckkkkkkkkkkk Gooooddddddddddd Fuckkkkkkkkkkk Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

It was the most erotic, and most beautiful sight I have ever seen before or since. She'd only been riding his cock for a minute, but it was unlike any other minute in her life. It was a crippling, long, extended orgasm, the likes of which she had never had before. Cum shot out of me splattering all over hands covering her breasts, her stomach and his legs. She immediately started licking my cum off her fingers with an enthusiasm I had never seen before. As she came down from her high, she whispered, "I think he came."

Me out of breath, "Really, what makes you think that?"

"I think I could feel it'" she said with a curious look on her face.

"Through the condom?"

"I guess so," panting and still squeezing her nipples. 

As she raised up off his dick, I could see the condom, bunched up around the base of his shaft, obviously broken. 

Well she's on the pill I thought so its not that bad. But I sure hope he's clean. Although, knowing he was quite inexperienced sexually at this point, I really wasn't too worried about it. As his dick finally came out with a loud plop, I was unprepared for the amount of cum that poured out of Regina's cunt. She immediately dropped down and started licking it up and sucking his cock which now soft, she was actually able to get a lot more of into her mouth. This was making me hard again, which at my age, is very unusual. 

I joked, "Regina, get off the babysitter, before he fucking wakes up."

That seemed to shake her out of her trance and she hopped off with a big grin on her face. She cleaned him up with a towel and we got the boxers on him. Fuck the tee shirt! We got the covers over him, closed the door, and crept back to our room like we were leaving the seen of a crime, which I guess you could say we were. Regina's hand was covering her pussy, cum still leaking out and running down her legs, as she was muttering, "Oh my God, I can't believe we just did that." 

"You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."

Regina looked down at my erection and said, "Remember what I said about spending the rest of my life thanking you?"

"I do remember that."

"Well that starts now," she said grabbing my cock and leading me to our bed.

"You know how you have always wanted to have anal sex?"

"Yeah..."

"We'll, my pussy is pretty sore from that huge cock, so I think right now might be the perfect time for you to fuck my ass!" "What do you think?"

"I think, get on all fours and offer me your ass like you just offered your pussy to that well hung stud in the other room!"

Thanksgiving ended REALLY REALLY well!!!!



Too Much Flirting



I seem to write better when I am talking about true stories, so here I go again. This is a story of non-consent, so if you don't agree with it, don't read on. I know many women out there have fantasies of it, but sometimes it turns out the wrong way. You can take this any way that you want. (Wow me being serious, crazy, eh?) 

It started when I was 18 year old, and I thought that I was much older. I flirted with all of my sister's friends and all of my brother's friends. My brother and his friends always went out every Saturday usually to the pool hall or bowling, and I was the tag-a-long. There was this guy there, John. I had a huge crush on him, so I was trying my teenage flirting out on him. Seeing where it would go. I thought that it would be harmless. Right? I am a teenage girl and he is at least 20 years old than me. No way he would be interested! At this point, I was just hoping to get some practice....nothing more. This had went on for a couple weeks. A couple times walking in front of him he would grab my ass, or something like that. It made me nervous but I decided to not say anything to anyone.

One night we were all at the bowling alley when I said that I needed to go to the bathroom. We were in a pretty shady place, and it was mostly emptied out at that point. I went into the bathroom just to check my hair. As I opened the door and walked out into the hallway John was standing there.

"Hey John, what are you up to?" I asked. He just stood there for a minute looking at me, making me uncomfortable.

"Molly, you have been flirting with me all these weeks. You are teasing me, are you going to finally give me what I want?" He questioned as he stepped in closer to me forcing me to take a few steps back.

"What are you talking about, John? I was just flirting, having a little fun. We are friends, you know?" I was slowly backing up as I said this because the look in his eyes turned dangerous.

He leaned over me putting both hands on the wall next to my head. At that point I realized that I was trapped. I didn't know I had backed all the way to the wall. I went to open my mouth to yell for my brother or anyone, but his hand went over my mouth. He then whispered in my ear, "Don't say a word, or I will just say that we are already were together and that this is what you wanted. You wouldn't want your family knowing that would you. It can be good for you if you just don't fight it."

At this point, my eyes started to fill with unshed tears, and I was scared of what this older man was planning to do to me. I pushed on his chest trying to get him away from me, hoping to make a run for it. I couldn't move though, he was like a brick wall. There was no moving him.

"Please, John. Why do you want to do this? How do you think my brother would feel? Don't do this...we can both forget that this ever happened," I pleaded him while trying to push him away.

He just leaned in closer pushing his body against me, so that I could feel his already hard cock pushing at me through both of our clothes. 

"Molly, shut up. Just do what I want, and both of us are going to enjoy ourselves. I know that I will either way." With this he pulled me into the woman's bathroom, and turned the deadbolt on the inside. It was just a one person restroom so he knew that no one was in there.

Without even saying a word he pulled my t-shirt over my head and threw it to the floor. My hands flew to cover the front of my breasts while his hand went behind to quickly unclasp my bra and rip it off of my arms, leaving red trails down my arms. My hands went back over my breasts again. But he grabbed my arms holding them above my head with one hand. His head went down to my breasts, and to my nipples. He took one nipple in his mouth. I felt his tongue reach out to lick it as it hardened in his mouth. Even though I shouldn't have been enjoying it my body immediately reacted to his touch. I felt his hands loosen my wrists, and I let my arms fall to my sides. While he was occupied licking my breasts, I reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair. Pulling hard in one direction, I ran the opposite way. 

I only made it a few feet when I felt him pulling me on my arm and throwing me to the floor. I saw his hand coming at my face to backhand me. I cringed holding my hands up to protect my face. However, not hit came. Looking up at him, he answered the unasked question in my eyes. "I don't want anyone to wonder what happened to you if you get hurt." With that, I saw his leg coming at me but did not have time to react as his foot went forcefully into my stomach. I was doubled over in pain, holding my stomach, and now crying. While I was lying on the floor, John quickly pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to get his still hard cock out.

He quickly reached down, unbuttoned my jeans, and ripped them off me. I was now lying on the cold bathroom floor with just my panties on. That day I had decided to wear these black lace cut panties. John took one look at them and said, "When a girl wears black underclothes it means she wants fucked." 

I looked him in the eyes and said, "John I don't want this, the color of my underwear of nothing to do with me wanting sex. Please stop now." Completely ignoring me he grabbed my hair, and pulled me up to my knees in front of him shoving his cock into my face. 

"I want you to suck my cock now. Don't bite me or think about doing anything stupid or you will learn to regret it. I promise you that." I had never given a guy a blow job, and had only a small idea on what to do. I leaned forward and just took a little bit of him into my mouth, flicked out my tongue and I could taste his precum.

"C'mon Molly – you can do better than that. Suck my damn cock. Put your mouth on it and suck me." I took him further into my mouth, and closed my lips around him sucking hard. I felt his hands go into my hair pulling me closer as he thrust himself forward. At this point I started gagging and trying to get away, but he held my head there. I quickly got used to this sensation. I figured if I put all I got into this, he wouldn't want to fuck me. I could get him to cum in my mouth. I began bobbing my head up and down, licking his cock from top to bottom. I even reached up and began to play with his balls. 

"That's right, you are starting to like this. You like being my dirty whore don't you?" He moaned as he said this...apparently I was doing something right. I realized what he said was true. I like being forced to take his cock in my mouth, and knowing I was making him feel good.

He started thrusting faster and faster into my mouth, his hands gripping my hair. He was close to cumming. "Stop, I don't want waste my cum in your mouth." I didn't stop though. I did more. I reached up and played with his balls, sucking him, and licking the head of his cock. With no warning, he exploded in my mouth.

I went to pull away, not wanting to taste him. "Swallow it all Bitch!" he yelled at me. He kept cumming in my mouth. Spurt after spurt. My first taste of a man, and I swallowed all of it. He was becoming soft in my mouth as I licked him dry. He pulled his cock out, and then his me across the face. Shocked I grabbed my cheek and looked up at him. I did what he had wanted me to why hit me now? What happened to not leaving any marks on me?

"I told you to stop, damn it. I guess I will just save fucking you for another time," he answered my unspoken question.

He quickly buttoned up his jeans, unlocked the door and stepped out. Turning around he warned me, "Do not tell this to a soul." Walking out, he left me alone, almost naked, on the bathroom floor.

I reached my hand down under my thong to my pussy. I knew that I was soaking wet. Being forced to do those things, had made me so wet, and left me completely unsatisfied. I began running my finger around my clit. Then traveling down, pushed two fingers deep inside myself, biting my lip so I wouldn't moan out loud. I thought about what just happened, and quickly reached the orgasm I had been waiting for. 

I cleaned myself up with some paper towels, and got dressed. Looking the mirror the only physical evidence of John's abuse was a small cut on my cheek from John's wedding band. 

Please send some comments, and don't forget to vote. Much love. 



Too Much Fun



My husband, John, and I have a great relationship and we're very close. We aren't as possessive of each other as most couples when it comes to sex, or at least he isn't. I still have some feelings of jealousy that I'm trying to work through. John is remarkably free sexually, and he actually likes it when I accept my desires and have the courage to experience my fantasies. It's a turn-on for him, and I appreciate the benefits.

I wouldn't call either of us Swingers; we just like to explore our fantasies, sometimes with other people. We're careful about respecting each other, and tell each other our plans long before anything happens. When I had a boyfriend, for example, I always asked for John's permission to see him. And I tell John everything that happened when I was with my boyfriend.

Well, usually we ask. Once John requested that I be 'adventurous' while he was away at work. It turned out that John didn't mean what I thought he meant, and that's what this story is about.

I was born and raised in Japan, and I lived there until the age of 22. I came to America to study English. Everything I knew about America I learned from James Dean movies, so my expectations were a lot different from reality. During my first month of college in America, I unexpectedly fell in love with an American man and we moved in together, which was difficult to hide from my parents. Eventually we were married and had children.

John works hard to stay in shape. He and his friends do a lot of running and lifting weights, and they sometimes go on bike trips together. He's tall and muscular and he's getting more handsome with age.

I do yoga, I tried lifting weights but lost interest, and I do some jogging almost every morning. I'm about fifteen centimeters shorter than John, and I have a thin but curvy figure. I prefer to keep my hair traditional, long and straight black, rather than participate in the current Japanese trend by lightening my hair color to a rusty brown. I suppose it's because I don't go home more than once every two years or so. In America my hair seems special without changing its color.

A few months ago my husband arranged for two of his friends to come over and help me with one of my fantasies. We really enjoyed it, and for several months, when ever John and I discussed it we'd get horny as hell. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. The excitement of that moment started to fade over time, we teased each other that maybe it was time to try something like that again.

So when John was leaving for work some time ago and asked me to be especially naughty, code for sexual, I was caught off guard but not really surprised by his request. I agreed that I would try, but was unable to imagine how I would be able to arrange something like that on such short notice. Usually we discussed it for weeks before acting. But I assured John that I would try to do as he asked. He kissed me and went to work, and I was left wondering how to fulfill his request.

I stand in our kitchen, staring at the door through which my husband just left. The smell of his cologne still lingers as I hear him close the car door. His car starts and he backs out of the garage and down the drive way. He gives me a final wave through the front window, and then drives to work. Suddenly it makes sense that he arranged for the kids to stay with his mother for a couple of days.

Unable to think of any ideas at the moment, I decide to begin my day in its usual way. I change out of my pajamas and into my jogging outfit. I like to show off my body, so I wear a black sports bra and a little red pair of running shorts that clings to my shape. After I've finished my stretching I leave home and head for the park.

I like to run on a trail that winds through the park and follows the river. The park has play equipment for kids, basketball courts, a gazebo, and a pedestrian bridge that crosses the river. I usually run over the pedestrian bridge, work my way through a residential neighborhood on the opposite side of the river, and then cross back over on another bridge further up stream. Then I follow the trail along the river to get back home. In all it's about a two mile run, just enough to keep me in shape.

Today I take my usual route over the pedestrian bridge and through town on the opposite side of the river. After crossing back over up stream, I get on the park trail which takes me past the basketball courts.

As I approach the courts I notice a group of about six lightly dressed young men engaged in a very heated game of basketball, judging by all the grunting. As I get nearer, two guys stand out from the rest. One looks to be in his early twenties with short dark hair and a well muscled body. He's wet with sweat and his knee length shorts flap in the wind as he runs up and down the court. The other man that attracts my attention is younger, and clearly not good at basketball. But his sandy blonde hair, shorts, and runner's body are enough to make me want to watch the game. There's a park bench along the trail that faces the basketball courts. I slow to a walk and take a seat on the bench. They are all too busy to notice me as I sit.

Both the heat of the summer morning, and their struggle with each other are making them sweat, and their shirtless bodies glisten in the sun. They jump and duck, weaving between each other and coordinating their movements with bursts of speed and power. Their muscles flex and they grunt as they leap between each other. Shorts cling tightly to their bodies and hang heavy with sweat. In their competition they wrestle through the members of the opposing team, penetrate their defenses and score. It all begins to look so sexual.

I lose track of time, and I realize that sweat is running off my body, and my heart is pounding despite having stopped running some time ago. For a moment I fantasize about stripping off all my clothes and walking casually into the middle of their game. But I decide that it's time to stop enjoying the show, and finish the half mile run I have left. 

Once home I burst through the door and head immediately for the shower, removing my clothes as I go. I step into the shower, and turn on the hot water. My heart is still pounding, and I masturbate with my finger as the water runs through my hair. The heat from the water pounds into my shoulders and runs down my legs.

I could never masturbate properly in the shower; there are just too many distractions. When all the sweat is washed away, I turn off the water and wrap myself in my favorite pink towel. Just as I enter our bedroom with its warm soft bed and my beloved vibrator, which I call my 'toy', the doorbell rings. I pause for a moment wondering who it could possibly be, and I try to decide if I want to answer.

"Oh crap...It's Thursday, I have to pay for the paper." I say to myself.

I had forgotten to pay for the paper several times in the past, and John has had to renew our subscription often because of it. I don't understand why I can't just pay twice as much next week, or why we have to go through the trouble of renewing the subscription every time, but I do know that I would rather not have to listen to John tease me about missing another payment.

I forget my toy and walk down the hall toward the front door with the pink towel wrapped around me, when a very naughty idea occurs to me. The paperboy is becoming more handsome every day, and he has an adorable personality. I've caught him checking me out several times. He's unnaturally nice to me, and he often goes out of his way to greet me when we meet accidentally. He's too young of course, but he did mention that he'll be starting his first year of college at the end of this summer. Just thinking about using the paperboy to fulfill John's request makes my spine tingle and I tingle in other places too.

I pause in front of the bathroom door to think it over. I decide that if nothing else, I'll show off a little and have some fun with him, I always enjoy showing off. I honestly don't know if anything else will happen, I suppose it depends on his reaction to me.

I return to the bathroom and exchange my large pink towel for a much smaller one. The new towel is yellow and just barely wraps around my body. My hands shake as I wrap the towel around me and tuck the ends together. A large gap, where the towel fails to overlap runs up my side and shows very clearly that I'm nude otherwise. It's also very short, just barely covering my most private parts.

I give myself a quick look in the mirror, and I like what I see. A coy smile spreads across my face as I head for the door. The doorbell rings again just as I peak through the window, I don't want to surprise the wrong person.

I feel both relief and excitement as I look up at his smiling face. Once again he has dressed for the warm weather, and is wearing only shoes and a pair of shorts. I open the door and invite him to come inside quickly. I apologize for my lack of clothing, and feign embarrassment. His smile fades, and his expression changes to a very familiar 'horny man' look, as he studies my towel. He looks very happy, but too embarrassed to smile openly as his eyes search me.

"Sorry." I say again, while indicating my lack of clothing with a sweep of my hand.

"Oh...that's alright." 

"Is it still $7.50?" I ask.

"Oh...Uhm...Yes, yes it is."

He stares with his jaw hanging open slightly, and he's barely able to concentrate on the conversation. His eyes follow my curves and he fiddles with his hands as if unable to decide what to do with them. Not once has he looked me in the eyes since I invited him in.

I turn my back to him and use my sexiest runway walk to the kitchen table where I keep my purse. I open my purse, keeping my feet shoulder width apart, and pretend that I can't find my money. I bend at my hips and arch my back while looking deep inside. I can feel the towel being pulled up as I bend at the waist, exposing my pussy. The cool morning air on my body confirms that he can see everything, if he chooses to look. I continue digging and shifting my weight, and I stand on my tip toes a few times in an apparent attempt to locate my billfold.

"Ah, here it is. I was beginning to think I'd lost it." I remove the billfold from my purse and turn toward him. I'm counting out the bills and coins, and just as I get within arms length of him, my towel tucking job undoes itself with a pop and the towel drops to the floor. It's as much a surprise to me as it is to him. Here I stand, bare assed naked, holding some change and a billfold.

"Uhm...Here you go." The cat was out of the bag, so to speak, so I just hand him the money without making any attempt to cover myself. His eyes remain fixed on my breasts and he tries to speak, but words fail him. He takes the money absentmindedly, with his eyes still locked on my breasts.

"So you're going off to college this year. You must be excited. Aren't you too young for college?" I ask, as I stand in front of him nude and holding the billfold. He shakes his head, and then realizes that he's staring. In a panic he raises his eyes to look into mine and his face turns bright red.

"Oh, no, I turned eighteen last, October." He says, with a great effort to keep his eyes up. I explore his body with my eyes and there is a sizeable tent being made of his shorts, and the center pole is his very erect cock.

With my eyes on his groin I ask, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I don't", he answers with an uncertain smile.

With my eyes still locked on his groin, I say "Hmm...You look happy to see me." He doesn't speak, and seems frozen in place. Keeping my eyes on his shorts I drop to my knees in front of him. My hands reach out and press the fabric of his shorts on each side of his cock. Very gently my hands slide up, and I hook my fingers over the top of his shorts. I pull down slightly, but the elastic band hangs up on the head of his penis. My left hand reaches in and frees the fabric, lightly brushing the head of his penis while my right hand pulls down his shorts. He swings free and I hold his cock in my hand. Very gently I kiss the head and slide my tongue down his shaft to his balls. I lick his balls and bury my nose in his pubic hair, breathing in his smell.

"Oh, shit." He says.

I smile at his enthusiasm, then take him completely into my mouth and slowly slide my head back and fourth on him, sucking slightly. I grab his shaft with my right hand and start pumping him, while my tongue swirls around the head of his cock. Suddenly and without warning, his cock explodes with semen that shoots into my mouth and down my throat. Instinctively my mouth closes, but I continue pumping with my hand as he splatters my face. He squirts me with cum almost a dozen times, and with surprising force behind each blast.

"That was fast...and powerful!" I say.

Breathlessly, he looks down at me and answers, "Sorry."

I grab the yellow towel from the floor and clean the cum off my face. When I've gotten most of it, I drop the towel and rise to my feet. I grip his softening cock firmly and resume stroking him.

"Think you can do that again? Or are you done?" I ask. The answer comes from my hand as his cock springs to attention almost immediately, and a sheepish smile spreads across his face.

"Yes, you can do it again." I say as I turn and walk to John's chair. This is John's favorite chair, and according to him, only he can sit in it. I think he'll appreciate me fulfilling his request here, so I sit with my legs open and motion for my paper boy to come nearer. He steps out from the shorts around his ankles and walks toward me.

"Have you done this before?" I ask.

"No." he replies cautiously.

"Think you know how it works?"

"Yes" he answers.

He kneels between my legs and guides his cock into me while I hold my pussy lips open for him. He slides in easily and begins an awkward, unpracticed thrusting that has no rhythm. His eyes remain fixed on his cock as he penetrates me, and he seems to be working out the best way to move his body.

I lay back and watch his face. He's completely focused and doesn't notice me watching him. He's slightly pink in the face, and sweat beads on his forehead. His expression is one of disbelief and anticipation.

Over time he works himself into an accelerating rhythm, "Hmm, that's it." I assure him. I lift my legs from the floor and hold my knees to my breasts, giving him better access. His rhythm accelerates again and he starts slamming into me with appreciated force, he's nearly ready to cum.

"Are you gon'na...?" But I never finish my question.

He grunts, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling. His cock spasms several times inside me and he fills my pussy with semen. He pauses a moment, then without warning he withdraws his penis, pulling most of his cum with it, which spills out onto the chair. He looks around awkwardly, and seems unsure of what happens next. He acts like he wants to say something, but doesn't know what.

"That was fun." I say, "You can get dressed, Ok?"

"Ah, yes." He gets to his feet, picks up his shorts, and puts them on backwards. He realizes his mistake, steps out of them again, and then he puts them on the right way. I smile, but manage not to laugh.

"Can I have a good-bye kiss?" I ask, when he looks up at me again. He walks over and kisses me on the lips with a little too much force. My legs are held open slightly and my hand is clamped firmly on my pussy to prevent more of his cum from spilling out.

"Thanks for coming." Immediately it seems an awkward thing for me to say, and I blush at my choice of words.

"Thanks" he replies. He opens the door, waves with a smile, and closes the door behind him. Then he's off to the next house to collect payment. I think to myself that the tip from the neighbor's won't be nearly as good.

"Well that should satisfy John" I say to myself, "now it's my turn." With the yellow towel held between my legs I return to our bedroom and make my toy work until I'm afraid it might overheat. After I take a quick shower and prepare something for lunch it's nearly three o'clock in the afternoon. I'm not expecting to see John for another two hours when his car pulls into the driveway. He practically bursts through the door as I stand at the sink draining the broccoli. He looks me up and down, and his expression turns from one of passion to confusion.

John asks "What's going on? I thought I asked you to be ready for me when I got home? You said you'd do it"

"I didn't think you'd be home at three... What did you want to be ready?" I ask.

He considers me for a moment and replies "I said I wanted you to wear that little black outfit with the boots, and to be a naughty girl. I said I'd try to get home early. Am I too early?"

I am not a native English speaker, and sometimes it causes a miscommunication between us. We've had this experience many times, and most of the time we can laugh about it. Silently I run the mornings conversation through my mind. A slight twinge of panic starts to build in me and I wonder if I completely misunderstood him. The night his two friends came over, he asked me to be naughty and it definitely meant sex. Could he have meant something else this time? And how did I completely miss the whole 'black outfit' thing. I have to clarify this morning's conversation.

"When you asked me to be naughty this morning, what did you mean?" I asked.

"Well... I was kind of hoping you'd dress sexy for me, maybe use your toy, and be all hot and bothered for me when I got back. I guess I should've called..."

I am really beginning to panic now. "The last time you said you wanted me to be naughty you meant you wanted me to fuck two of your friends."

John pauses and looks at me a moment before asking "What's going on? Are you regretting that or something?"

"Oh shit...Oh shhhit!" 

"What's the matter?"

"Oh shit. I don't know...How am I...?" Words fail me.

John starts to panic too, but he wraps his arms around me and asks "What's the matter?"

I didn't know what to say or how to start. English doesn't come naturally to me, and it's ten times harder when my mind isn't clear. I can't think of a way to explain anything. I want to start from the beginning and talk it through to the end, but my mind is frozen. I can't imagine how John will take it. Part of me thinks he might just laugh it off and fuck the hell out of me, but I really don't know. Minutes pass as my mind races. I decide to just blurt out the story in its simplest form and hope for the best.

"I had sex with the paperboy!"

John, first surprised by my answer, thinks I'm joking but stifles a laugh when he realizes I'm serious. He crosses his arms, and then with a concerned look on his face he asks me why.

"I thought you asked me to, I thought that's what you meant when you asked me to be naughty, I thought this was something you asked me to do! I never would have done it if I didn't think you asked! That's why you got rid of the kids! Why are they gone? Oh shit. I told you, you have to be very clear with me, and I only understand half of what you say sometimes... you know that! We've been through this before. Well, not exactly this, but things like this. Why are you smiling?"

John just stands silently with his arms crossed and a growing smile on his face. Then he bursts into booming, room filling laughter while I am angry, scared, and confused. I decide that this is not the time for me to start yelling at him, so I stop talking and wait for his laughing to cease.

"Where?" He asks.

"Where what?"

"Where did you have sex with the paperboy?" He asks again.

I put my hands in my pockets and lower my gaze. I watch the toe of my shoe kick around an imaginary bit of dirt on the kitchen floor.

"In your chair." I reply sheepishly.

John turns to look at his chair, and so do I. That's when I see that I neglected to clean it. A crusty white substance has dried to the cushion and it hangs over the edge. John sees it too. The image of the cum stained chair really drives home the fact that I had sex with another man without my husband's permission.




Too Much Fun To Pass Up



I slid the card into the slot that opened the hotel door.  When I glanced inside the lavish room, I became instantly amused. There, on the giant king size bed lay my husband with his pants around his knees, his ass straight up in the air, and his face planted in a pillow. 

Then I heard a muffled cough. What the hell, I thought. There in the bathroom was a cute little tart. She looked scared when she saw me but I was still amused. Our eyes connected. The small smile on my lips made her feel more comfortable.

"Please explain," I asked quietly while smoothly my shimmering evening dress.

She answered nervously, "He was winning at craps and since I work the area I asked him if he wanted company. 

He paid me a grand for two hours. 

He lasted two minutes," she said pointing at Jeffery whose sexy ass was still high in the air. 

We both stopped and admired the round perfectness of his firm butt for a moment. I felt my clit jump as my thoughts gravitated towards penetrating him.

The gorgeous high class call girl in front of me was too tempting a morsel to let slip away. I felt myself getting turned on just looking at her sexy face, long blond hair and tiny body.

She looked at my face for expression to find out if I was the jealous wife type or not. What she didn't know is that my husband and I liked to enjoy the company of other couples. I was a little pissed that he did this on his own though. Usually we discussed the place and the circumstances together.

"How much time of the two hours does he have left?" I asked her. 

"I have lots of time for you," Monique answered seductively while grazing her nipples.

We both looked at my husband, drunk and passed out on the bed. I felt myself getting wet looking at Monique. She is so petite with such a nice set of tits.  Monique's curly, blonde hair and pretty features make her very fuckable. I smiled.

"Since we share a bank account, do you mind if I finish his request?" 

"Yes, I want you too," Monique replied coming up to me and kissing me full on the lips. Our tongues danced in our mouths and our bodies started to grind in a passionate outburst of lust.

I was suddenly very happy that the concert had been canceled and I had arrived on this delicious opportunity to fulfill one of my many fantasies.

She sat on the bed as I told her to. I made her call me Mistress. She promised to do as I asked. I sat on a chair across from her. I leaned down to kiss her softly; our passion increasing with every taste and movement of our tongues. She started sucking my tits. Her lips and mouth felt so good. My husband was still sound asleep beside us. I nibbled and sucked her big tits enjoying the way her nipples hardened. My tongue slid from breast to breast and then my face settled in-between them.

"Take off your clothes, close your eyes, and get on all fours." I told her.

I went to the drawer and pulled out a strap-on with a big hard black cock. It was big, long and thick. I washed it off in the bathroom and put it on. 

Kneeling on the bed before her I said, "Open your mouth bitch." She felt my cock slide in between her lips. I pulled out of her sexy mouth. 

"Are you okay," I asked while playing with her tits.

"Yes," she replied, visibly turned on. 

I pushed my dildo into her sexy little mouth and wondered what it would be like to be a man and control a woman with lust. I started pumping harder, feeling the power. She gagged. I pulled back, then pushed in again. She gagged again. I kept fucking her mouth, and it felt wild. Such a turn on. 

I pulled out, leaned down and kissed her lips sweetly saying, " Thank you."

Anticipation hung heavy in the air. She knew what I wanted to do and we both knew it would happen. 

I put lots of lube in her hot little pussy and more into her sexy ass. I walked to bathroom and looked at my slender body in the mirror, with the enormous hard cock protruding from my mid drift area like a force; a very powerful and strong force. I pinched my nipples then slid my hand up and down the dildo, making it super wet with lube. Looking in the mirror I started stroking the dildo getting more and more turned on. I took a deep breath soaking in how powerful I felt. It was a heady feeling.

Kneeling on the bed behind her I whispered, " Okay slut! Now it's time you get fucked, and fucked, real good," My stiff hard dildo entered her pussy stretching it to it's limits. Her cries were muffled, but became louder the deeper I got. Pushing a big cock into her tight pussy was so wild I started playing with my tits, then hers, then alternating back and forth. Our thrusts became more aggressive. I pounded her wet little pussy forcefully. The bed was shaking now. I started to come as she moaned her release. We rode the wave where it took us, our voices straining not to get too loud, but without luck. 

My husband woke up watching me fuck the little bitch he hired for the night. I locked eyes with his and started fucking her hard again. He watched, and pulled out his cock. Monique hadn't noticed my husband waking up since he was so quiet. I watched him start stroking while watching me fuck her and we both smiled.

He came up behind me and stuck his thick, hard cock deep into my hot little ass. We started fucking me as I was fucking her. It felt amazing to feel him filling me as I was filling her. He reached around and took the dildo from Monique's hot cunt. It was dripping with juices and lube. He inserted just the tip into her ass and mouthed for me to push. I did so gently, my heart racing as her I stretched and spread her sexy little ass wide apart forcefully. 

My husband started pounding my ass hard and fast, causing me to penetrate deeper and deeper into Monique's sexy ass. And we fucked and fucked and fucked.

"Hi Monique," Jeffery grunted at one point. 

"Hi," she grunted back as he came deep in my ass. His orgasm was long and intense.

After it subsided he said, " I see you've both gotten to know each other."

He was smiling and didn't look drunk anymore.

"How much time do we have left," I asked Monique. 

"An hour," said Monique lying.

Really there was only 15 minutes left, but this attractive couple with their sexy bodies and sexy attitudes, were too much fun to pass up.



Too Much Fun With Her Man



Jacqueline's jaw dropped as she saw her best friend's new boyfriend walk up the steps. He was tall about 6' 3, wavy brown hair, and stunningly handsome. How had Shannon gotten such a sexy man wrapped around her finger? She was a control freak, and frankly a bitch to her boyfriends. Damn, she wanted to fuck her best friend's boyfriend and she hadn't even met the guy. This was going to be hard.

"I hate not getting what I want", thought Jacqueline and dammit she wanted this sexy stranger very badly.

"So you must be Brad, I have heard a lot about you."

"Yea, and you're Jacqueline, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Oh the pleasure is all mine." Come inside. Shannon won't be here for another thirty minutes."

"Alright."

Wow, thought Brad, Shannon didn't tell me her best friend was hot. She must be a model. Everything about her was flawless. Perfect face, a beautiful smile, and a body that screams "I'm a good fuck." Her body seemed to tease him as she walked inside her house. He wondered what she looked like naked, better yet how she would moan as he entered her. The temptation to kiss her was overwhelming and he had never wanted someone this bad. Just as she turned around he was caught staring at her butt. She only smiled.

"I'll be right back. I need to change."

Her bedroom was connected to the living room, so she left the door open leaving Brad a perfect view of her. This is going to be fun she thought. She sat down on the bed, opening her legs. She slowly peeled off her shirt. Her skirt soon followed, leaving only her bra, stockings, and high heels on. With one leg on the bed she leaned over seductively pulling off her stockings, all the while with Brad's eyes fixated on her as if he was in a trance. Jacqueline lay on the bed, horny as fuck, staring at her fantasy man. 

"I think I'll give him a show."

Brad sat there, staring at this beautiful woman practically naked, welcoming him into her room. Brad forgot all about what's her face and smiled cockily as his member grew attentive. He watched her rub her clit. He watched her finger her pussy. He heard her moan, " Oh yeaaa." He watched her enjoy herself and that's exactly what he wanted to do. Enough watching. Brad walked over to Jacqueline to hear her moaning, "It's about time,my fingers are getting tired." He laughed as he climbed on top of her, letting her rip his clothes off with a very strong sexual desire.

"Brad, I'm going to take care of you, unlike Shannon ever could."

With her leg wrapped around him, she maneuvered herself on top of him. She hummed while reaching his package, which sent this exciting stimulation that drove Brad crazy. While staring into his deep blue eyes, she gave him the best head he had ever had. She licked and sucked in every way possible, not leaving one part of his cock untouched. He pushed her head farther and farther onto his member filling him with intense pleasure. He let his seamen run in her mouth and cummed on her fat tits. 

Jacqueline stayed on top of him, then surprisingly took his cock and guided it towards her wet pussy. As he entered her she let out a shrill cry of joy, and rode him. Brad cummed inside her, leaving Jacqueline grinning. 

"Now it's my turn to take advantage of you," cooed Brad.

Without a warning Brad grabbed her ass, flipped her over, and eased his fat cock into her ass. 

"Ohhhhh, Brad." Fuck." Oh yea." Fuck me harder."

Brad fucked that bitch, and gave her exactly what she wanted, a fat hard fuck. He finished inside her. They kissed hard, promising each other they would do this again. They got dressed, just in time to hear the doorbell. 

"Hey Shannon," said Jacqueline.

"I see you have met Brad, isn't he great?"

"You have no fucking idea."



Too Much Fun



"Wow...That was naughty." says John.

"I'm so sorry..." I begin.

"Yes, I'm sure you are, but we'll take care of that later. We have some rules to go over for sure. But right now I'm going to fuck you so hard that the Feds will activate the Emergency Broadcast System thinking we're under nuclear attack."

I don't know exactly what that means, but a smile spreads across my face as my husband takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom for a very serious fucking.

Afterward, when I've had a chance to catch my breath, we talk. We work out a fool proof system of communication regarding sexual requests. From now on, he's going to be very clear, and I am not to do anything unless I've heard those words from him exactly.

I wonder what it's going to be like to pay the paperboy next week; I hope he doesn't expect a similar tip. And no matter what I do I haven't been able to get that stain off the chair, "Out damn spot!"



Too Much is Never Enough



Over the years, I've read nearly well over a hundred thousand erotic stories of the Internet; and noticed an out-of-control trend of increasing women's dimensions (particularly busts). Recently I've even read of 50-JJ sized boobs. Bubble butts have been catching up lately, and men's dimensions are not far behind on that curve.

Well, in view of the apparently common opinion that too much is never enough; I'm going to explore the limits of human endurance. Yes, the poor woman depicted as the example herein should immediately go and get a radical mastectomy and a butt-ectomy or she will be confined to permanent bed rest before she's nineteen years old. 

Not to fear my dear, what's left will still put the udders of a blue whale and the ass-end of the QE2 to shame. 

And you guys with those sewer pipe cocks that are longer and fatter than a Golden Gate bridge pile should go immediately and get radiation and chemo treatments until they are reduced by 80%. That will still leave you more than double the size of that exaggerated by the average man on the street. 

Consider that you may finally be able to get a good portion of it into a real woman's pussy instead of less than half into the pussies you've always had to rely on; nor will you be troubled further by repeated charges of bestiality with elephants and rhinos for that pleasure you've become accustomed to with the front half of your exalted penile monument. 

Won't you feel so much better when it's not dragging down the sidewalk ten feet behind you? Just think, no more 'road rash'; and people won't always be stepping on it or running over it with skateboards either. How many times has that thing been run over by a bus anyway? Did you even feel it? I know the bus driver must have. 

I was out drinking one night when a lady came into the bar. The bouncer apparently knew her and allowed her in, despite the fact she took up 5 barstools for her cute little bubble butt. 

The biggest problem with those boobs of hers was that they drug the ground behind her. It took her a few minutes, calloused and covered in dusty bootprints as they were, to pack them around the bottom of her barstool when she sat down a half-dozen seats distant from me. 

The reason they encouraged her patronage quickly became clear to me.

She drank like a sun-dried Bactrian camel trying to refill its two humps. The bartender served her Long Island Iced Teas in beer pitchers - thirteen of them - in the first hour alone. She chugged the first one and the barkeep, clearly used to her habits, immediately swapped it for a full one. 

Over that hour, she had to keep scooting back further and further from the bar as her tits kept swelling, unwrapping, and lifting; until the patrons, myself included, had to climb over the bar to get to the restrooms on the other side of her. I was wondering what would happen when she had to pee. The restrooms weren't big enough for her and even half of one tit. 

Yep, they were the biggest tits in this or any other universe, with extended nipples higher and wider than Mount Kilimanjaro's volcanic caldera (14,000 ft; 100 sq mi), and areoles each larger than Lake Titicaca (3,200 sq mi). 

A battalion of main battle tanks could rest atop each of her nipples, but they might have a few problems when she's lactating. Yellowstone Park with its geysers would run a poor second. 

To bridge between those two puppies would be like connecting the K1 and K2 peaks in the Himilayas, a more ambitious project than the Yellow River Dam. At least the Chinese will get hydroelectric power. 

With good drainage, the real estate in her cleavage could be leased to a developer for a new Mall of the Americas, a dozen each casinos and hotels, an international airport, a Six Flags amusement park, and how could I forget a year-round ski resort - just add whipped cream and skip the cherry. 

It was when she first sat down that I noticed something else. Her ass hadn't looked any wider than a teenager's from the front, but she had a bubble-butt that brought her hip measurement up to 80 inches. As she sat on the barstool, she had to bow her head to avoid breaking the ceiling tiles. 

Even if she were able to solve the tit problem in the restroom, the stall might be just a bit cramped for that beauteous ass; and how could she piss in the toilet when her pussy was still well over three feet away when her ass hit the rim? Does she prefer the seat up or down? Did she ever miss? Does she ever hit it? 

Unfortunately, all that weight she was toting around had caused her feet to expand to just a little larger than snowshoe size. You have to take the bad with the good, right? As her feet and her tits were competing for the same piece of the galactic real estate, she had to sit so far back that the bartender had to come around to serve her. 

When I moved in for the "kill", the closest I could stand was about four feet away, without stepping on her tangled-up tits and feet. Needless to say, it took awhile to hook up with her, but we eventually made it to her place.

And hook up we did, I fucked her brains out with my measly little 60" cock (and only 18" diameter); and although she'd obviously had a lot of cocks much bigger than mine, she was still tight and I managed to knock her up higher than a kite. 

Oh, what am I talking about? I could've landed a 747 in that pussy; but try that with a Russian jumbo and she'd strip the wing tips right off it.

The last time I saw her after the baby was born, she told me her tits had grown to 142-quint-Z; and she was talking about me puttin' another "bun in her oven". But, I thought her tits were big enough the way they were. 

Lately, my tastes have been running more toward 36C x24x36; and in order to accommodate those itty-bitty baby pussies, I had my cock reduced down to a paltry 9x3 inches, maybe a half-inch more either way on a good day. 

COME ON GUYS.....GET FREAKING REAL!!! If a chick with 142-quint-Z tits getting fucked to half of her depth and knocked up by a 60x18 inch cock isn't enough for you, WHAT THE FUCK IS? 

What's next, hooters the size of Olympus Mons on Mars (14 mi high), an ass bigger than Jupiter's Great Spot, and a pussy large enough to suck up galaxy-wide black holes like Rice Krispies though a milkshake straw? 

I might think about writing that story sometime, if the trend continues. Just think, could there ever be a cock big enough to over-stuff a worm hole in space?



Too Much of a Gentleman



Wow! I cannot believe all the feedback I received for 'Teaching the Cocktease.' Thank you all so much! I'm glad to see my fantasies make you hot as well. =)

Some people were also rather upset with me regarding Scarlett's age. I'm pretty sure I said she was eighteen in the story...(in fact I'm sure I did)...but just to be safe I will mention it up here. Scarlett is eighteen.

This work is also completely fictitious. Anderson, however, is real. *Sigh* If he only knew what he was missing out on...

*

"Andy, honey? Are you coming down soon? We have to leave. The opera starts in a little over an hour!"

"I'll be right down!" Anderson Walker called over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, thankful that he was upstairs in the bedroom and his wife Carla couldn't see him. God forbid they be late to the opera. He continued with his task at hand, packing the suitcase that lay open on the bed in preparation for their night out.

In Anderson's opinion, the night out was much needed. Work had been especially stressful lately. The credit company he worked for had recently been bought out by a larger corporation, causing lots of changes and an increase in paperwork. Anderson had been pulling the weight of several slacking employees lately, and had yet to see a change in his compensation. To make matters worse, he'd recently suggested implementing a new system to his supervisor, who in turn pitched the idea to the boss. Anderson's supervisor had taken credit for the idea as if it were his own and earned himself a sizeable bonus in the process. 

Anderson never spoke up about the unfair situation. He preferred to glare at his supervisor from afar like a stubborn child; sulk in his cubicle and avoid the break room like it was an incubator for some kind of plague. He knew he'd been wronged and it certainly bothered him, but bringing the topic to light would only ruffle feathers. In his mind, it wasn't worth speaking up if it meant making others angry with him. He would rather be unhappy himself than risk making someone else upset. 

His friends often called him a pushover, a doormat. One friend even joked that the doctor had made a slip during his vasectomy and removed his testicles entirely. Anderson usually just laughed it off, but part of him knew their accusations were true. His reserved demeanor left him unsatisfied in all aspects of his life, and his marriage was no exception. 

Having been married for fifteen years, it was understandable that the once vibrant sparks would have dimmed. However, Anderson was starting to wonder if the sparks had ever been bright at all. He and Carla were great friends, but their relationship seemed to mirror that of brother and sister more than husband and wife. 

Their sex life had always been bland. Missionary position only. No oral sex. Anal play was out of the question. Condoms were a necessity. Sure, part of the reason you got a vasectomy was so you wouldn't have to worry about your wife getting pregnant, but if Anderson wasn't mistaken, he thought another reason was so that you could cum inside your wife's pussy without the suffocating barrier of latex. More and more he was starting to realize the things he would never get to experience. It wasn't like he was interested in whipping Carla with a leather strap and engaging in water sports either; he just wanted to try a new position. Or get a blow job.

He'd worked up the courage to ask her for oral sex one time, but she shook her head, curled her lips up in disgust and said "The thought of putting your penis in my mouth is disgusting." Anderson could have argued with her until he was blue in the face, fought his case by citing the number of times he'd gone down on her and noted she didn't exactly taste like candy, but he didn't. He simply nodded and agreed to missionary again, telling himself he should just be happy he was getting sex. After all, it had been three and half months and it sure beat masturbating by himself as he normally did every night while Carla was in the shower.

Anderson finished packing his clothes into the suitcase and zipped it shut. He checked himself in the mirror once, straightening his tie before descending down the staircase with the suitcase in hand. He rounded the corner and entered the kitchen where his wife was standing and waiting. 

Carla Walker resembled a mature Marcia Brady. She was about five-foot-six with long straight blonde hair. Her figure was rather boyish and her face was always makeup free. Her breasts were an average B cup, a considerable step up from the AAA she was in high school. Unfortunately though, after her enhancement surgery her nipples had lost all sense of feeling. She told Anderson that touching her nipples felt no different from touching the skin of her arm. It was exactly the same. 

Anderson gave Carla's cheek a quick peck and let his hand roam from her upper thigh to her hip, to her waist and back down again.

"I can't wait for tonight," he whispered into her ear. Tonight was a tradeoff of sorts. He was putting up with the opera so Carla would put out afterwards in the hotel suite. "I want you so much." He knew he was pressing his limits when he gently groped her hip and pulled her close, but he couldn't help it. This time it had been five months since their last love making session. 

"I don't know, honey," Carla's tone was vague as she pushed his hand away. "I have a headache." 

Anderson frowned and ran his fingers through his unruly brown curls. How many "headaches" could one woman possibly get? He considered pointing out that they were headed to an opera and if she truly had a headache that perhaps they should stay home, but as he opened his mouth he was interrupted by a sharp knock at the front door. Carla turned away from him and scurried down the hall to answer it. 

She returned to the kitchen with a young girl following behind her. Anderson made a small unintelligible noise at the sight of her. He clutched the kitchen counter as he felt his knees weaken. 

The girl was gorgeous. Long reddish brown waves framed the face of a porcelain doll. Her big blue eyes were enhanced by just the right amount of makeup, and her lips were a ravishing shade of cherry red. She had an hourglass shape and she worked it well. Tight dark jeans hugged the curve of her hips and the white long-sleeved tee she wore was entirely transparent, showcasing the black bra she wore, lace and all. 

"Andy, honey," Anderson heard Carla's voice, but couldn't find the words to answer. All the blood from his brain was being supplied down to his cock, making it grow. "This is Scarlett Gray," Carla continued. "She lives a few houses down. She's going to watch Lady tonight while we're away." 

Anderson nodded lamely, just now noticing the overnight bag in the girl's hands. It wasn't surprising to him that his wife would request someone to baby-sit their pet Pomeranian while they were away. She was practically in love with the animal, sometimes kicking Anderson out of bed in order to give Lady unrestricted access to his pillow. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Walker," Scarlett stepped forward and smiled. "I'll take good care of Lady, I promise." 

Anderson nodded again. His eyes raked her body and he couldn't help his tongue from darting out and dragging across his bottom lip. As he did so, he noticed one side of Scarlett's mouth turn up into a lopsided smirk. 

"I'm just going to run upstairs and get my coat. I'll be right back," Carla suddenly announced. She placed her hand on Scarlett's shoulder as she exited the kitchen. "Make yourself at home, dear."

Scarlett picked up her overnight bag and hopped up onto the kitchen counter adjacent to where Anderson stood, his fingers still clenched and digging into the countertop. He watched as she spread her legs wide and settled the bag in between. 

"So the opera, huh?" She asked as she rummaged through her bag. "Yikes. What did you to deserve that?" 

"Um...Nothing," Anderson answered honestly.

"Nothing? Surely you must have done something. Maybe you just don't remember. Did you insult a new haircut? Forget an anniversary?" 

"No...I just wanted to take her to the opera. There's no special reason." Anderson rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to ignore the way Scarlett's sweater gaped open in the front when she leaned forward. He could see straight down her shirt. Her breasts were firm, nestled in the cups of her bra and straining to break free. He cleared his throat nervously as she looked up at him through her lashes. 

"No special reason?" Scarlett laughed. "I'm sorry, but I don't buy that. No man willingly goes to the opera with his wife." She found what she was looking for in her bag and pulled it free. She held a small Tupperware container out to Anderson. "Cupcake? It was my eighteenth birthday yesterday. I brought you and your wife some extras." 

Anderson's mouth began to water. He could see the pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles through the clear container, calling to him like seductive sirens. He wasn't allowed to have sweets. Carla banned them from the house.

"No," he shook his head. "I shouldn't. Thank you though."

"Are you sure?" Scarlett popped the lid open and the sweet scent of sugar wafted out. She dipped her pointer finger into the icing and removed a large dollop. She slipped her finger into her mouth and moaned in approval. "Mmm." She sucked hard on her finger and drew it in and out of her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip to clean up every last trace. "Soooo good." 

Anderson groaned and tried to cover it up with a hacking cough. He imagined that digit sliding in out of her mouth was his cock, which was now fully erect and fighting to spring free from his pants. He turned his hips so his lower half was hidden behind the island table and adjusted his pants. He tried to be discreet, but the coy smile that spread across Scarlett's lips when he glanced up at her led him to believe how obvious he'd been. 

Scarlett dropped her bag to the floor and leaned forward so her elbows were on her knees. She dipped her finger back into the icing and offered it to Anderson.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" Her eyes, innocent and wide, blinked up at him and her bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "Just a taste. Please?"

"Oh...I, uh, I, um...." 

Anderson tugged at his collar. His necktie suddenly felt awfully restricting. He stared at the dab of icing on Scarlett's finger. Carla would be furious if she knew he'd ingested even an ounce of sugar, not to mention she'd be angry if she knew that ounce of sugar had been sucked off of an eighteen year old's finger. He didn't want to chance upsetting his wife, no matter what the throbbing urge between his legs was telling him to do. 

"I shouldn't," Anderson declared firmly. 

"Okay." Scarlett put the lid back on the container and set it down next to her on the counter. "Your loss," she whispered with a click of her tongue. Her voice was full of implications as she crossed her legs in a very lady-like manner and straightened her sweater so all views of her cleavage were effectively canceled.

Anderson took a step back, stunned. Whether he had bruised this girl's ego or simply hurt her feelings, her flirtatious smile had faded and he was responsible. He wondered if he should apologize. 

"I, um, I," he stammered. 

"I think I hear your wife," Scarlett's tone was cold and hard. She slid down from the counter, her breasts bouncing softly as she strutted toward Anderson. She placed one hand on his chest and trailed it down his abdomen and inside his suit jacket. Using one of his belt loops, she tugged him forward and hitched her leg around his hip so her pussy was pressed against his thigh.

Anderson gasped at the heat he felt radiating between her legs. All he wanted to do was grab a handful of her ass and shift her a little to the left so that warmth was up against his aching cock, but he was frozen in place, paralyzed with disbelief. No woman had ever come onto him like this before.

"Have a nice evening, Mr. Walker," Scarlett purred in his ear and ground her pussy in a slow circle against him. She let out a tiny whimper and threw her head back, her eyes falling closed at the amount of sheer ecstasy she was receiving from his body. "I certainly hope your wife doesn't notice this." Anderson's eyes widened and he couldn't help the groan that left his mouth when Scarlett reached down gave his cock a firm squeeze. "I'd hate for you to have to explain to her how you got it."

Scarlett pulled away with a playful smirk and removed her hand from inside his jacket. She winked and blew him a kiss before exiting the kitchen, swaying her hips from side to side as she went.

Anderson rushed into the bathroom immediately and splashed a handful of cold water onto his face. 

"Fuck," he whispered to himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He hadn't been this aroused in years, if ever. He quickly worked the button of his pants open and unzipped his fly. His cock was straining against his boxers, practically screaming for attention by something other than his own hand. He pulled his length free and began a firm stroke up and down. 

"Andy? Honey, where are you?" Carla's voice rang through the air like an annoying set of wind chimes, forcing Anderson to halt his movements. 

"I, uh, I'm shaving!" Anderson locked the bathroom door and leaned back against it. He continued to palm his cock, swirling his hand around the head and collecting the moisture starting to pool there. "I'll be right out!" 

"Well, hurry up. We have to leave right now. We don't want to be late." 

There was a soft thud on the bathroom door as Carla leaned up against it, directly on the other side of Anderson. He could almost hear her, tapping her toe as she stared at her watch and growing more and more impatient as the minute hand ticked. He hung his head and sighed.

"Yes, dear," he muttered. There was no way he could rub one out with Carla right on the other side of the door. Anderson tucked himself back in his boxers and zipped his pants. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, his pants unable to mask his erection. He could only hope that Carla fell asleep early tonight. Then he might be able to order some porn in the hotel room and take care of business.

The five-minute ride down to the opera house was uneventful. Carla manned the radio controls as usual, putting on an Italian opera and giving Anderson a bitter taste of what he was in for. When they arrived at the opera house, he had to question why she'd been so adamant about arriving early. The parking lot was dead. Anderson pulled into a space right up front and glanced out the window at the building. A man and his wife were standing outside the front door talking. Anderson noted that the man looked just as excited as he did about the prospective night at the opera. 

"Andy, honey? Do you have the tickets?" Carla asked as she leaned over the console to primp her hair in the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah, of course." Anderson tapped his jacket pocket. A surge of fear rushed through him when he realized his pockets were empty. His hands fell limply into his lap. "Shit." 

"What did I tell you about cursing?"

"Sorry, I meant to say shoot." Anderson unbuckled his seat belt so he could dig in his pants pockets. He pulled his wallet out and thumbed through his dollar bills, hoping the tickets had gotten mixed up with his money. 

"Don't tell me you forgot the tickets," Carla pursed her lips and gave Anderson a haughty look. Anderson shrugged sheepishly and continued patting his pockets. "Anderson Michael Walker, I only gave you one thing to be responsible for. I swear, you would lose your head if it wasn't attached!"

"I could have sworn they were in my jacket pocket." Anderson frowned down at his lap as though the tickets would just magically appear in front of him and save the night. 

"Well you're lucky we came early. You still have plenty of time to run home and get them before the opera starts. Go now. I'll go inside and wait." 

Carla opened the door and was halfway across the parking lot before Anderson could protest. He watched her enter the building through narrowed slits. Part of him just wanted to leave her there while he went home and caught the last half of the football game. He sighed and shoved the key back into the ignition. The engine started with a roar and he peeled out of the parking lot.

"Goddammit," Anderson swore once he arrived home. He slammed the car door shut and stomped into his house. As if it wasn't enough that Carla had a "headache", now he'd forgotten the tickets. If the events stood separately, maybe he'd still stand a chance at getting some action tonight, but the events stood together and Anderson knew there wasn't a shot in hell that he was going to get laid tonight. 

"Fuck," he swore again as he trudged up the staircase to the bedroom. He had no idea where the tickets were. He'd have to tear the house apart looking. 

He stormed down the hallway to his bedroom. A look of confusion crossed his face when he saw the door was shut. He didn't remember closing it, but maybe Carla had when she'd run back upstairs to get her coat. Anderson pushed the door open silently. 

The sight he saw before him made him stop dead in his tracks. 

Slouched down in the leather computer chair with her back to him and her legs spread obscenely wide was Scarlett. Her head was tipped back and her breathing was labored. Every so often she let out a quiet moan. 

Anderson was so enraptured by the erotic sight before him that he almost didn't notice the vivid images flashing across the computer screen. Scarlett was watching porn, his porn. She'd found his hidden stash. The scene on screen depicted a young schoolgirl and her professor. She was leaned forward on his desk while his hands roamed her bare ass and thighs. 

Anderson took a step further into the room and was hit with an overpowering scent. Though foreign to him, the scent was unmistakable. Hot, wet, arousal of the female sex. 

"Mmm," he moaned, breathing in deeply. 

"Oh! Mr. Walker!" Scarlett exclaimed, seemingly startled by Anderson's appearance. She jumped up from the chair and quickly turned the porno off. 

Anderson gasped when Scarlett turned around. She was wearing a pair of black satin shorts that barely offered any coverage. They rode so low on her hips, it was obvious she wasn't wearing any panties. She'd also found and slipped into one of the white button-down shirts he wore to work. It hung wide open, barely concealing her naked breasts.

"I didn't expect you home until tomorrow," Scarlett said as she folded her arms across her chest. The backs of her hands brushed against her covered breasts, just about where Anderson estimated her nipples to be, and Scarlett let out a soft moan. Anderson took a deep breath and choked on the intake of air when her nipples hardened and pushed out against the thin shirt. 

"My wife..I...We...I didn't...I forgot..I don't..." he babbled. "I-I-I can't find the tickets. I t-think I left them here." 

"Oh. I can help you look for them," Scarlett offered. She spun around and bent over so she could search the floor for the missing tickets. The round, firm cheeks of her ass peeked out from the bottom hem of her shorts and taunted Anderson. He swallowed hard and gripped the doorframe for support. All he could think about was dropping to his knees and rubbing his cheek against those luscious cheeks. 

"Oh, God," he ground out through his teeth when Scarlett spun around. Her shirt parted in the subtle breeze created and revealed her breasts. Large and perky, her nipples were dusty pink and just crying out to be sucked on. 

"Are you okay?" Scarlett asked innocently. She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing the ends. "You're shaking." 




Too Much of a Gentleman



"What are you doing to me?" Anderson whispered quietly, voice tense and strained. This was the sweetest torture. Everything he wanted was right in front of him, his for the taking, but he knew he couldn't have it. Carla would never condone cheating, and especially not with a girl twenty years his junior. 

"What am I doing to you?" Scarlett repeated. Anderson intended the question to be rhetorical, but Scarlett gave a response, in the form of a nod toward Anderson's crotch. The devil gleamed in her eyes as she grinned and bit down on her lip. Anderson grew harder watching this girl stare unabashedly at his cock and fought the urge to palm it right in front of her. 

"I'm not sure if you know this or not," Scarlett began. She took a few small steps toward the bedroom window and peered out into the darkening night. "I only live two houses down, right across the street. My bedroom window faces this room right here." She turned back to face Anderson. "I see you in here almost every night. Alone." 

Anderson's mouth dropped open. He knew exactly she was hinting at. She'd seen him masturbate.

"Don't be embarrassed," Scarlett smirked triumphantly at the flush overtaking his cheeks. "I'm in my room almost every night too. Alone." She took slow rhythmic steps forward until she was no more than an inch away from Anderson. "What are you thinking about while you touch yourself? Hmm? Are you thinking about your wife?" 

Anderson's heart was pounding so hard, he was certain Scarlett could both hear and feel its beats. She was looking up at him, patiently waiting for a response, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't think. This young girl's hand was centimeters away from his excited cock. 

"I didn't think so," Scarlett chuckled after a moment, taking his silence as an answer. "Tell me then," she whispered, "what makes this cock so big and hard?" She leaned in even closer to him, reaching behind him to pull the bedroom door shut. She then secured Anderson to the door with her body, pressing her curves up against him. 

"Ohhhh," Anderson groaned when Scarlett cupped his length to punctuate her words. 

"Do you just fantasize? Hope that one day your wife will change and give you what you want? Give you what you so obviously need," she purred in his ear. She used one finger to trace the outline of his cock through his pants, teasing him. "Tell me what you need, Mr. Walker. Tell me and it's yours." Scarlett increased the pressure of her finger. 

The next few minutes that passed were of silence. Anderson said nothing. He felt Scarlett studying his face, but he couldn't make out much more than her silhouette. He was lost in a dream-like state. No one had ever offered themselves to him like this. No one had ever asked him what he wanted. He didn't know how to answer her. She could be just like Carla - the wrong response could make her blow the whistle on the whole thing. 

Just as he was formulating an appropriate answer, the spark of warmth traveling up and down his cock was gone. 

"Fine," Scarlett hissed. She stepped back and crossed her arms. "But I have a question for you? How the hell do you ever expect to get what you want? You don't ask for it, and you clearly don't take it when it's right in front of you, so how? I get that you're a gentleman, but where's the MAN?" She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "It's no wonder everyone in the neighborhood calls you Mr. Walk-All-Over. I thought maybe the whole pushover thing was just an act to keep the peace with your wife, but..." Scarlett trailed off, rolling her eyes.

"They call me Mr. Walk-All-Over?" Anderson was hurt. 

"Yeah," Scarlett laughed meanly. "They do. You're so pathetic." 

"S-Shut up," Anderson warned, but even he knew he didn't sound intimidating. Scarlett snorted and walked back over to the computer desk. She sat down and propped her feet up. 

"You know, I bet you don't even have any balls. Your wife probably holds onto them and only lets you have them back when you're a good boy," she teased in a tiny baby voice. "Right, Andy honey?" 

Anderson's entire body stiffened. Scarlett's mock impression of Carla struck a chord deep within. It was one thing for his wife to have a sense of power over him, but for this smart-mouthed eighteen year old to assume a position of dominance over him was an insult to his ego.

"Shut up!" Anderson yelled. The years of pent up aggression came out like the roar of a rabid animal. He stormed away from the door toward Scarlett. The truth played in his head like a broken record. An opportunity like this would never rise again. This time he was going to take what was being offered; take what he wanted and hold nothing back. 

"Up against the wall," he demanded, a defiant jaw leading his words. 

Scarlett ceased tapping her feet on the desk long enough to smile up at him and mouth a single word:

"Finally."

"Now," Anderson barked, pointing toward the wall. 

Scarlett hopped up from the chair and playfully sprinted over to the wall. She spread her legs and pressed her cheek against the wall as though she were preparing herself to be frisked. 

Anderson positioned himself behind her and pressed his chest against Scarlett's back, trapping his hardness between them. His hands went to either side of her body, caging her in like his prey. Scarlett let out a tiny whimper as Anderson exhaled into her neck. He grabbed a handful of her hair and moved it to one side, granting him access to her neck. He bent down and traced her collarbone once with his nose before he began sucking like crazy on her neck. Scarlett's legs buckled and unconsciously tried to close. 

"Keep them spread," Anderson growled and shoved his knee between her legs. Scarlett whimpered in protest and pushed her ass backward, effectively grinding it into Anderson's cock. He reached down to take hold of her hips, stepped back and spun around, then pulled her forward again to meet his hard-on.

Scarlett moaned and reached up to slide her fingers in Anderson's hair, tugging the curls softly to pull him closer. She pressed her tongue against his bottom lip, demanding and searching. Anderson sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, making it tender with a gentle suction before biting down on it. Scarlett tightened her grip in his hair and shifted her hips forward. Anderson took control of her hips, helping her maintain a steady rhythm against him. 

"Mmm, that feels good, doesn't it?" he crooned in her ear. He could feel the fire burning underneath her shorts. She stood on her tiptoes to meet his six-foot frame and flicked her tongue across his throat. She licked slow circles behind his ear in contrast to the rough insistent passes she was making with her hips. 

Anderson took hold of Scarlett's wrists and pinned them up above her head. He held them down with one hand and reached down to rub over the bulge in his pants with the other. Scarlett's eyes glazed over with lust as she watched him. 

"Look at me," Anderson ordered. Scarlett looked up at him in surprise. He squeezed her wrists and started a furious pace on his cock. Scarlett could see his arm moving up and down out of her peripherals, but obeying Anderson, she kept her eyes on his. 

Anderson worked the button loose on his pants and slid the zipper down. Scarlett squirmed, desperate to place a visual to the sounds she was hearing. 

"Do you want to see me, sweetheart?" He teased as his pants fell to the floor. "Do you want to see how hard you made me?" Scarlett's body strained to be released from his grip. Anderson suddenly grabbed her hands and shoved them down the front of his boxers, forcing her to grab his cock. When his hands left hers, he stared into her eyes.

"Take it out," he commanded. 

Scarlett tucked her fingers into his waistband and pulled down until his cock sprang free. Anderson groaned and glanced down, watching as she extracted him. 

"Oh God," she whispered as her fingers traveled up his length. "Oh my God." 

He was thick, uncut, pushing eight inches. It was such a shame that a gift like that was being wasted on someone like his wife. She didn't know what she had. 

Scarlett wrapped her fist around him and stroked down, twisting her hand as she came back up. She licked her lips and bit down on her bottom lip, looking a bit shy as she switched to gingerly grazing his shaft with her fingertips. 

"Don't fucking tease me," he warned her. "I've been waiting long enough for this as it is." 

Scarlett fell into a slow stroking rhythm where she'd occasionally tilt her pelvis forward so the head of his cock would brush against her clit. Each time she did, she'd moan, and that sound alone pushed Anderson closer and closer to orgasm. She linked her fingers together and began to stroke him with two hands, changing the angle so she was continually grazing her pussy with his member. With this new angle, Anderson could feel the warm dampness through her shorts. 

"Fuck sweetheart," he groaned as Scarlett slid both of her thumbs across his head simultaneously. He'd never felt so big or hard in his entire life. Petite eighteen-year old hands struggled to maintain a firm grasp around his cock and he thrust in and out of the warm glove she'd created. His skin blurred into hers, the only thing distinctive were her blood red fingernails. When she ran her fingers through the fine hair on his balls, Anderson knew he had to put things to a stop. As much as he wanted a hand that wasn't his own to stroke him to orgasm, he had other plans. 

"Back up against the wall," he spat the command out and shoved her hands away. 

Scarlett jumped at his harsh tone and obediently backed up until she was pressed against the wall. Anderson ran a finger down between Scarlett's breasts and brushed it back and forth across the waistband of her shorts. 

"You have no idea what I want to do to you," he hissed as he tucked his fingers into the waistband and pulled back slightly, letting the elastic snap back against her.

"Oh!" Scarlett yelped in surprise. 

Anderson leaned forward so he could cup her breasts. He rubbed her nipples until they stood firm and prominent. Then he gave them a rough pinch and maintained the pressure until Scarlett was gasping and bucking hard against his hips. He smiled to himself, reveling in the feeling of being the one in control for once. He ran his fingers down her thigh until he reached the hem of her shorts. One finger dipped underneath, inching higher and higher. 

He brushed back and forth across the skin directly next to where she wanted him most. Scarlett jerked her hips and panted, silently begging him to enter her. Anderson stalled, kissing up her body, licking her nipples, sucking on her earlobe. 

"Mr. Walker." His name was a plea. The look on her face was desperate. "Touch me. Please." 

Anderson allowed one finger to brush against her wetness.

"Fuuuuuck," he moaned when he realized Scarlett's pussy was smooth and bare. He stroked the soft skin up and down, grazing her clit with the tip of his finger. The wetness was unbelievable. He had to use lubrication every single time he and Carla had sex. She was never aroused, and never for his lack of trying either. 

Anderson circled her entrance and slipped his finger inside.

"Ohhh, God," Scarlett panted. Anderson's finger twisted inside her once and slid back out, returning with a second. 

"Fuck Scarlett, you are so fucking tight," Anderson groaned. He began rolling her nipple between his finger and thumb in time with the thrusts and curls of his fingers. Scarlett raised her hips to meet his hand. Her eyes were locked down between her legs. 

"Do you like that, Scarlett?" Anderson found her gaze. "Do you like watching me fuck you with my fingers?" He thrust his fingers deeper, slamming into Scarlett's wet pussy over and over at a furious pace.

"Mmmhmm," Scarlett moaned. "God, yes. Mr. Walker...So close. Please."

"Not so fast." Anderson drew Scarlett's nipple into his mouth, sucking hard until the flesh tightened and puckered. He released it with a soft 'pop' and quickly drew her other nipple into his mouth. "You said if I told you what I needed, you'd give it to me."

"Mmmh," Scarlett gasped and arched her back as Anderson pinched the nipple that wasn't in his mouth. "I'll give you whatever you want." 

"Whatever I want?" He quirked an eyebrow. "That's a very dangerous thing to say to me, sweetheart."

"Whatever you want," Scarlett repeated. Frustrated hips rocked forward and chased her orgasm, oblivious to the fact that Anderson had no intention of letting her cum until he did. 

Most men in this situation would probably opt for anal sex, maybe some bondage or even a threesome, but Anderson had been dreaming about receiving a blow job since he was fourteen. Coincidentally, that was the same age that he met Carla, but now he was forty and it was time to make his adolescent dream a reality. 

"Kneel down."

"But...But...But..." Scarlett sputtered. She thrust her hips up, desperate for the return of the fingers that he'd just removed. "So close. Oh...Please. So close." 

"Ah, ah, ah," Anderson scolded. "You said whatever I want, Scarlett. Now, are you going to be a good little girl and suck my cock or not?"

Scarlett frowned and sank down to her knees. Anderson's cock was hard and ready, jutting out toward her face. She bit down on her lip as she looked at the beading of precum accumulated on the head.

"Ohhh Mr. Walker," she let out an exaggerated moan. "Your cock is soooo big and hard. Do you want me to suck it?"

"Yes," he panted, the anticipation of what was to transpire consuming him. "Suck it." 

"Right now?" She asked. She took hold of his cock and rubbed it against his cheek, teasing him as retribution for not being allowed to cum. "Suck your cock right now? Are you sure?" 

"I told you not to fucking tease me," he reminded her through clenched teeth. "Take my cock in your mouth now, Scarlett. Suck me hard." 

Scarlett continued an excruciating slow stroke on his cock while letting the head rub against her cheek. Her other hand disappeared between her legs, into her shorts, and into her pussy. When it re-appeared it was glistening and wet, and she immediately wrapped it around Anderson's cock, stroking him smoothly with the added lubrication. 

Scarlett flicked her tongue out and licked up the underside of his shaft from base to tip. She swirled her tongue up and down his length, tasting a mix of his and hers before closing her mouth over the head. 

Nothing could have prepared Anderson for the feeling of a warm mouth and tongue of a young girl wrapped around his length. The visual alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. 

"Jesus Christ," Anderson gasped. "That's the fucking hottest thing I've ever seen." 

He hissed as she cupped his balls and sank down, deeper and deeper until she was swallowing him whole. She slowly came back up, dipping her tongue into his slit to taste the start of his orgasm, and sank back down.

"Get your hands in my hair like a man," Scarlett snapped when she noticed his fists clenched at his sides. 

Anderson tentatively cupped the back of her head to guide her mouth. She sucked harder, swirling her tongue around the head each time she came back up. He felt his cock hit the back of her throat and he nearly passed out. It was just too good. 

"Mmm," Scarlett moaned as he tugged on her hair. Anderson put two and two together right away. When he tugged on her hair, she moaned, and his cock reaped the benefits. Becoming more confident, he fisted his hand into her hair and gave a firmer tug. "Mmm!" 

"Good girl," Anderson panted. "Suck that hard cock all the way down." 

Scarlett's throat constricted around him and his hands clenched harder in her hair. His hips began sharp erratic thrusts into her mouth. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groaned, looking down into her big innocent eyes. "I'm going to cum soon." He was actually pleased and surprised by his endurance this far. He thought for sure he would have cum as soon as she took him into her mouth. 

"Cum in my mouth," she whimpered as she rubbed the tip of his cock across her lips. "Please Mr. Walker. I want to taste you." To punctuate her words, her tongue slipped out and gently stabbed at the tiny slit. 

Anderson suddenly drove himself forcefully between her lips and buried himself completely in her mouth. She traced patterns on the underside of his cock with her tongue and kept swallowing around him as he fucked her mouth. He slammed in deep, pressing her face into his crotch as his cock began to pulse.

"Oh, fuck. FUCK, Scarlett, mmmm," he groaned. Hot, violent spurts of cum shot down Scarlett's throat and she struggled to swallow everything he gave her. Her tongue continued to stroke him up and down as his cock slowly began to soften in her mouth. He pulled out of her mouth and leaned up against the wall, panting and gasping. Whether all blow jobs were like this or Scarlett was exceptional, he'd definitely been missing out all these years. 

Scarlett remained on her knees. She licked her swollen red lips and looked up at Anderson. Her chest was heaving up and down and she was staring at Anderson's deflating cock with hungry eyes. Crazy with want and need, she suddenly plunged two fingers into herself and moaned loudly.

"Stop," Anderson ordered as she began to finger fuck herself at a furious pace. He glared down at her as she thrust her hips and worked her fingers in and out of her pussy. He bent down and yanked her hand out of her shorts, picked her up and tossed her on the bed. He lay his body on top of hers and held her hands still. 

"You're being bad," he murmured in her ear. He lowered his head and nipped at her breasts, massaging them roughly with his hands. 

"Oh God. Mr. Walker, please!" 

"Please what?" He circled her taut nipples with his finger and pinched them roughly, forcing a squeak of pleasure and pain from her. "Do you want my cock in you, sweetheart? Is that what you want? You want me to thrust in and out of you, punish that pussy for being so bad?"

"Yes!" Scarlett cried. She arched her back, offering her breasts to him to use as he wished. "Fuck me!" 

"Patience, my dear," Anderson chuckled as he sat back on his heels. He pulled her shorts down and tossed them onto the floor. Scarlett's pussy was perfect. Pink and bare, nothing like the massive forest his wife had growing between her legs. Anderson ran his hands down Scarlett's legs, stopping at her calves to pull her legs apart. "Wider. Spread your legs wider. I want to see that sweet little pussy."

Scarlett obeyed, opening herself wide and presenting her glistening folds to him. She threaded her fingers into Anderson's hair and gave his head a gentle push down. Anderson smirked and blew a soft breath of air across her clit, loving the way the little nub seemed to twitch at the cool air. He made a single pass down her slit with his tongue. 

"Oh, fuck! Mmm! Mr. Walker!" Scarlett gasped. Her hips lifted and her thighs clenched in around Anderson's head. He immediately withdrew his tongue and gripped her hips, pushing her back down on the mattress.

"Be a good girl for me and stay still." Anderson held her down by laying his forearm across her waist. His head returned between her legs and he began to lap at her entrance. He circled her clit with his tongue and flicked it lightly. Slowly, he pushed two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

Scarlett's body was already shaking. Anderson knew she was just teetering on the edge, and the right amount of pleasure would push her over. He slammed his fingers into her pussy as he sucked her tiny bud into his mouth. He held her clit between his teeth and began to flick his tongue back and forth across it until Scarlett screamed out. Anderson withdrew his fingers just as her pussy began to clench around them and replaced them with his tongue. 




Too Much of a Gentleman



"Mmm, good girl," Anderson hummed in approval. He thrust his tongue in and out of her pussy and reached around to squeeze her ass. "Come all over my tongue." 

"Oh, fuck!" Scarlett cried, shuddering as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her hands flailed blindly, looking for something to grab. She found solace in Anderson's hair, tugging at his roots until her body calmed. Anderson trailed his fingers up the center of her body. He left a trail of moisture on her nipples and then pushed his fingers into her mouth. She moaned at the taste of herself and ran her tongue along Anderson's fingers until he pulled them back out of her mouth.

"You like that, don't you?" He asked, slipping one of her nipples into his mouth as he lined his cock up at her entrance, the sight of her cumming enough to have made him rock hard again. "Tasting yourself?"

He slid his cock up and down her folds, teasing her with the head. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and yanked her forward so her back would arch and her breasts would be even closer to his face. His tongue swept back and forth across her tightened peaks while he tapped her clit with the head of his cock. Scarlett panted and rocked her hips, whimpering for him to enter. Anderson pressed himself forward so not even an inch of his head was inside her. 

"What is it that you want, Scarlett?" Anderson asked. He sucked and bit on the pert tip of her nipple.

"You, Mr. Walker!" Scarlett cried. She jutted her hips out, trying to get him inside her. "I need you!"

Anderson grabbed both of Scarlett's legs and put them up over his shoulders. He teased her slit again with his cock, rubbing the sensitive clit and swirling it around her entrance. 

"Tell me what I want to hear," he coaxed. "Be a good girl and beg me. Beg me to pound that pussy with my cock." 

"Please, please Mr. Walker. Fuck me. I need you."

Anderson stopped teasing her with his cock and stroked himself idly in his hand. He pushed two fingers back into Scarlett's drenched pussy. "Mmm," he moaned as her walls throbbed around his fingers. "Jesus, fuck. You're so ready for me. This is what you need, isn't it?" He taunted as he sped up his motions on his cock, knowing Scarlett could see him."Tell me, Scarlett. Say it. What part of me do you need?" 

"I need your fucking cock, Mr. Walker!" Scarlett screamed. "Please fuck me with your cock!" 

"Such language coming from such a pretty mouth," Anderson chuckled wickedly. He stepped down from the bed, responsibility kicking in as he made his way over to the table beside the bed. 

"Wait," Scarlett whimpered at the sudden loss of contact. "Where are you going?"

"Condom." Anderson held up the tiny foil square.

"We don't need one. I'm clean and I get the shot. I want to feel you. And I want you to feel--"

Scarlett's words were cut off by Anderson's tongue. He was back on top of her, hovering over her and assaulting her mouth and breasts with renewed vigor. Kissing her fiercely, he dominated her mouth and rocked his hips against hers. 

In one swift stroke, he sheathed himself inside her dripping core.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he grunted, feeling her pussy stretch and tighten around his shaft. "Such a big cock for such a little pussy." 

Anderson's movements were slow and hesitant at first. He pulled back and pushed forward again, feeling every ribbed ridge of the walls in her pussy, embedding the feeling of sex without a condom into his mind. 

"Oh, Scarlett. You feel so fucking good," he groaned into her mouth. 

"Harder, please," Scarlett begged. She pulled at his hair. "Fuck me harder, Mr. Walker." 

Anderson yanked her legs forcefully over his shoulders again and plunged into her. His hips slammed repeatedly against hers. She couldn't even meet his thrusts, her body was crushed beneath his, nothing more than a slave to him in this position. 

"Is this how you like it?" He demanded, powerfully thrusting in and out of her. 

"Yes! God yes!" 

Animalistic snarls emerged from Anderson's throat as he gripped her hips and moved into her even harder than before, touching places that tightened her muscles around his cock to an almost painful degree. 

Scarlett's breathing became ragged and loud as her orgasm approached. Anderson slipped his thumb into her mouth and let her suck on it until it was good and wet. Then he gave her a devious smirk and brought it down to her clit, stroking the engorged nub in firm fast circles, pounding into her viciously all the while. 

"Oooh, fuck Mr. Walker!" Scarlett moaned. 

"Are you coming for me sweetheart?" Anderson growled. "Keep those pretty eyes open," he ordered as Scarlett's eyes fluttered closed. "I want to see how they look when you cum all over my cock." 

Scarlett's body locked and shuddered as she screamed and shattered into ecstasy. Anderson continued moving into her to keep her on a high as she rode out every last wave of pleasure. She sighed once the aftershock had worn off and smiled hazily up at him. Her face was flushed and her eyes were dilated; her skin slick with sweat.

"I'm not done with you," Anderson warned. He roughly rolled her over onto her stomach and gave her ass a sharp smack. "Get on all fours. Now." 

Scarlett's limbs trembled as she pushed herself up into Anderson's desired position. He pressed the head of his cock against her clit and drew himself down until he was slowly sinking himself back into her pussy. 

Scarlett was so much tighter in this position, her pussy once again having to stretch to accommodate him. Anderson bit down on her shoulder and pressed forward until his hipbones were against her ass, filling her completely. 

"Ohhh," he rasped into her neck. He pulled out inch by inch and roughly grabbed Scarlett's hips, pulling her back to him as he impaled himself back inside. So hard and deep he penetrated, Scarlett was incapable of forming words or sounds. He tore into her tight pussy, moving her hips with each thrust and making sure to lean back each time and watch himself slide in and out of her. 

He reached around to grope her breasts. The warm flesh bounced in his hands with each movement he made. He slid his thumb back into her mouth and moaned as Scarlett sucked furiously on it. He dragged it down from her mouth and went straight to her throbbing clit. He pinched it once hard before positioning his thumb against her ass. He applied a slight pressure, but was careful not to enter. 

"Lean back," he suddenly demanded, stilling himself inside her. 

"Mmm, what?" Scarlett asked, confused. She looked over her shoulder, eyes clouded with lust.

"I said lean back. Do it now." 

Scarlett hesitantly pressed back. "Ohhh," she moaned as her ass opened and sucked his thumb in deep. "Oh, fuck." 

Anderson resumed fucking her harder than before, pumping his thumb in and out of her tight hole. 

"Do you like that, Scarlett? Do you like having my hard cock buried deep inside your hot little pussy?" 

Scarlett's head rolled backward, attempting to nod, but barely making it up.

"Answer me!" Anderson grabbed a handful of Scarlett's hair and pulled her head up. "Do you like having my cock in your pussy and my thumb up your ass?" 

"Yes, I like it! Fuck, I like it!" She screamed. 

"Good," Anderson murmured. "Now be a good little girl and milk my cock." He reached around and pinched her clit, making her world explode. "That's it," he moaned as her pussy clamped down on his cock. "Squeeze my fucking cock." Anderson's cock throbbed and he went rigid against her back as he pulsed inside of her. Scarlett screamed his name and her muscles went frantic, milking him for all she was worth.

"Ohhh," she sighed when Anderson withdrew his cock. She collapsed down onto the bed and rolled onto her back. Utterly spent, she closed her eyes and smiled contently. 

Anderson straddled her body and rested his softening cock against her lips. Scarlett opened her eyes and her mouth to accept him. She sucked gently and thoroughly, cleaning both of their cum from his cock. Anderson tilted his hips forward and forced her to accept his balls into her mouth. In this position, Scarlett's head was trapped between the mattress and Anderson's cock. He chuckled as she gagged and he kept her pinned down for a few seconds. 

"Don't you ever tell me I don't have balls," he smirked as he pulled away. He lay back down on top of her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He kissed her mouth and forehead before coming to sit at the edge of the bed. "So you found my porn collection, huh?" He nodded toward the DVD case sitting on the floor by the computer. 

"Mmhmm," Scarlett murmured, a mischievous twinkle playing in her eyes. 

"I haven't watched this one in awhile." He bent down and picked up the case to study. "But I think this is a two disc set." He winked at Scarlett.

"Don't you need to get back to your wife?" She teased and rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her elbow. 

"I'm talking about later tonight. I fully intend to leave something here and come back for it while she and I are at the hotel," he smiled. "It sure was lucky I forgot the tickets, wasn't it?" 

"It wasn't luck," Scarlett smirked. Anderson frowned and raised an eyebrow. Scarlett nodded at the DVD in his hands. "Open the case." 

Anderson popped the case open and two rectangular pieces of paper fell into his lap. 

"What?" His eyes widened in disbelief. "You...Took...When...What.." He stammered. 

Scarlett laughed and crawled toward Anderson on her knees. She wrapped her legs around his waist from behind and snatched one of the tickets out of his hand. She tore it in half and tossed the worthless paper onto the floor. "Go tell your wife you could only find one," she whispered in Anderson's ear before sucking the lobe into her mouth and biting down."Please Andy honey."



Too Much Of A Good Thing



"There we go," she said, pulling the strap tight and buckling it with a flourish. "Comfortable?"

The question was purely rhetorical. His comfort was not an issue. More to the point, she had filled his mouth with a ball gag so large that he could not even whimper around it, so large that he could not have forced it out even if it hadn't been strapped in. She stepped back from her handiwork to take a moment's pleasure in the sight of it.

He was the picture of helplessness. In truth, "helpless" was hardly an adequate description. She had done everything possible not only to immobilize him, but to maximize and accentuate his vulnerability.

She had captured his hands behind his back, in a single mitten of sturdy black leather that was tightly locked around his wrists. A matching collar encircled his neck. A chain ran from the metal ring at the front of the collar to a thick steel ring anchored to the concrete floor of the basement, preventing him from raising his head. Another chain ran from the lock at his wrists to a winch mounted on the joist above him; she had used it to pull his bound hands as high as they would go.

She had stripped him, forced his feet into pointed-toe pumps with five-inch heels, and strapped his ankles to the uprights of a vertical steel frame, an inverted U solidly bolted to the floor. She had put a heavy black belt about his waist. Another belt pulled to maximum tension ran from the one around his waist to a pinion at the top of the U, a few inches above his invitingly bare bottom. The combination of the shoes and the restraints forced him to protrude his buttocks like a cat in heat.

He could neither move nor speak, but his eyes testified eloquently to his abject terror. He was ready.

She moved to stand before him and enjoy his silent pleas for release. She had known what she was doing when she chose a man shorter and slighter than herself for her husband. He could never have done this to her. Yet he had thought to press her for sex when all she had wanted in the world was time to herself, to read and think. Now, trussed like a lamb for the slaughter, he had finally glimpsed the consequences, the inevitable outcome, of any maltreatment he might offer her. He would learn much more, shortly.

"I had thought to leave you down here awhile," she said softly. "Alone in the dark, bound and gagged, with only your regrets for company, while I amused myself upstairs, perhaps with a lover. But it didn't seem . . . emphatic enough. The penalty for the kind of nagging you've inflicted on me this past week should be much more definite and pointed than just a few hours of discomfort in the dark. And now that I've thought about it, I think I've come up with the perfect lesson."

The microscopic surge of his neck and shoulder muscles was probably all he could produce in his condition. She had no doubt of his mental state.

"Oh, don't worry. It's something you've always really liked. Though I'm not so sure you'll like it all that much in the future."

From a table behind her she selected a silver vibrator about the size of his erect penis and coated it carefully with Vaseline. As she moved behind him, she could feel the tension coursing through him. He had no idea what she was about to do.

She used the tapered tip of the vibrator to tease his anus open and lubricate it simultaneously. There was no difficulty. He had always loved this kind of play, loved to be penetrated by her, and she had done it to him many times. After a moment, his anus began to respond by pulsing rhythmically, as it always did to her gentle probes with the cool, smooth toy. Presently she switched the vibrator on and slipped its full length inside him. His body spasmed, and tremors began to run through him. His own penis began to fill with blood. It was only a matter of seconds before he was hard and full.

She rocked the vibrator gently back and forth, endeavoring to caress his prostate from inside. He surrendered totally to the pleasure of it, as he always did.

When he was about to come, she switched off the vibrator and withdrew it. He remained at maximum tension, his organ fully erect, millimeters from release. She knew he could stay that way a long time.

"You love that, don't you?" she said to his back. "You love it when I take you that way. For a little while, it allows you to forget yourself, forget what a failure you are as a man. You can relax and let someone else do the driving. You can be the woman you were meant to be, that you should have been."

She applied a pair of thick leather straps to his genitals: one at the base of his penis, the other at the base of his scrotum. Now he would stay hard regardless of anything.

She returned to the table to fetch her next instrument for his correction. It had started life as a standard mechanic's grease gun, before she had had it modified. The standard grease valve fitting had been removed and replaced by a flesh-colored plug the size and shape of an erect penis, but with a much larger aperture. The original cylindrical grease reservoir had also been removed; a rubber fitting to a long hose had replaced it. The hose led to a large, shiny black rubber bladder that gave off traces of steam.

"You know, being a woman doesn't just mean getting to be chased instead of chasing, or lying back and being penetrated. There are a lot of disadvantages to it, too. Four or five days a month, we go through a lot of discomfort. Mostly it's because of how bloated we get. And with all that medical science can do, they still can't do much about that. It's a big part of the reason we can get so hard to handle."

She went to his bottom again, hose hissing against the floor as it uncoiled behind her. "For days you've been acting like a PMS-crazed bitch without any of the usual physiological justifications. So I thought I'd give you some, to complete the package, so to speak. I don't think I really needed to lube you for this, but I didn't want to risk hurting you . . . that way."

Her previous treatment had prepared him well. The knob went into him easily. It sank deeply into him with only guidance and minuscule pressure from her. She took a deep breath and began to pump the trigger.

Thick, heavy molybdenum grease, warmed to body temperature, flowed sluggishly into his bowels, packing and distending them. She watched with vicious delight as his abdomen swelled with its viscous new contents. Now and then she would pause and withdraw the instrument, to let any gas escape that might otherwise become a trapped bubble in the grease pool and give him colic.

As his bowel filled with the heavy semiliquid, backpressure developed against her continued pumping, She had to bear down on the trigger to keep grease flowing into him. Eventually, the backpressure began to push the penis fitting out of his anus.

After about fifteen minutes, she had filled him completely. His belly hung low from the load of grease, pulling at his pelvis. Surely she had gotten at least five pounds of it into him. She withdrew the pump and replaced it with a large electric rubber dildo. She had to push it rather forcefully into the grease inside him. It slid into him slowly until his anus gripped its tapered base. The dildo was attached to a simple leather harness, a crotch strap attached at both ends to a waist strap with a prong buckle. She pulled the waist strap around him, pulled it tight and buckled it carefully. Now the dildo would keep him full until she chose to allow him relief.

His own penis was still maximally hard and erect. Although he had only the barest idea what she had done, he could feel it where it counted.

"That's how it feels to be bloated with menstrual fluid and not be able to void it. This whole past week I've felt just the way you do now. Getting an idea about that, now?"

She let her fingernails trail lightly across his buttocks, lightly tickling his inguineum and coming to rest against his balls. They were hot, smooth, and very tight. Even full of that heavy industrial grease, he was still as aroused as he could get.

"But you've nagged me for sex. And nagged me, and nagged me, and nagged me! You knew how I felt. It's not as if I took any trouble to hide it, but all you could think of was how long it had been since you last got your little rocks off!" She caressed the underside of his scrotum. "Now that the shoes are on your feet, do you have an idea what that was like for me?"

She waited a moment to let the point sink home. "You're going to have an even better idea in a moment." She flicked a switch on the base of the dildo. The device began to piston back and forth inside him, sending pressure waves through the dense hot grease that filled him. She moved to stand before him once again.

His face was as tight as a fully inflated toy balloon and bright red, all the veins standing out in high relief. His eyes bulged with each stroke. The tension throughout his body could not have been higher if he'd been stretched on a rack. But because of the tight leather straps around the base of his penis and the base of his scrotum, he could not come. Neither the huge pool of grease trapped in his bowel nor the much smaller but equally urgent stream of semen trapped in his balls could escape.

"I'm sure you're just loving that, aren't you? I'm going upstairs now. Perhaps I'll read for a while. Don't worry, I'll be back to see to you in good time. The battery in the dildo should run down in about two hours."

She mounted the stairs to the living floors of the house. When she'd reached the door at the top, she turned back to him with a mocking smile.

"Enjoy!"

-- The End --



Too Much of a Good Thing



"So whose room am I staying in?" she said quietly.

Just what I was wondering, but I must have gone white when she said it out loud. I gave him a worried look -- that wasn't my idea. "His, from the looks of it," he smirked, "but come back to mine later if you think of it. Kind of a cold night. Well, have fun, kids," he said. Only the way he fidgeted with his motorcycle helmet and gloves gave any apprehension away, but he covered that by quickly getting out his card key and disappearing into his room.

Yesterday afternoon, I had seen them. No, let's be honest. I saw her first, then I saw him. Maybe it was the Joe Rocket jacket, but more likely it was the long brown hair, or maybe it was the tan. Or the breasts, covered by a Lycra top (and partially by the jacket, which made it a tease and not just another woman showing off her big tits in something tight).

I saw all this while I was paying for lunch at a diner in Perry, Florida. She was the most interesting thing I had seen since breakfast, and perhaps all week. My week on the motorcycle had accomplished what I intended -- I was beginning to forget. But boredom was starting to creep in. Boredom with small towns and motels, boredom with questions about my motorcycle (an older model BMW) whenever I stopped.

And boredom is deadly on a motorcycle. I was debating with myself, as the waitress counted my change back at the register, whether I needed to stop for the day or try to make it on down to Crystal River. I'd be fresher the next day -- if I didn't watch TV all afternoon and then toss and turn all night.

I risked another glance her way. She was sitting in a booth next to a guy in a motorcycle jacket. Not matching jackets, I noticed with approval -- many "motorcycle couples" end up with everything matching, which makes them look like high schoolers on spring break. He saw me, and smiled. I was wearing the usual gear, and carrying my helmet. I'd already had a helmet stolen off my handlebars this trip. I debated about whether to speak with them -- this assumption that all motorcyclists have a lot in common kind of grates on me, and I've had a lot of unwanted company at restaurants. So I just smiled and waved back, and she motioned me over.

That did it. I walked to their booth. "Hi," I said.

'Hi. Sit down, if you've got time. I'm Stephen, and this -- is Jane."

"Not Plain Jane, though," I said. Wow, you've uncorked a dumb line already, and you're just sitting down, I thought.

"Thank you," she said, kind of giggling, and he laughed, which I guess made it okay. The bastard's probably enjoying this -- it must happen all the time, I thought. I shook hands with him, and her. I just managed to resist kissing her hand.

We talked about all the stuff travelers talk about, especially when they're on motorcycles -- weather, where we'd been, roads, traffic, how the machines were doing. He said they'd started out in Savannah, and that he had a couple of weeks before he had to get back to work. I didn't ask him where or what work was -- I hate those kinds of questions. They're nosy, and they tend to get me thinking about work, and home -- both things I've ridden hundreds of miles to get away from.

"Nice helmet," he said.

"Oh, that?" I said, sheepishly. "Thanks. I just got it yesterday in Pensacola. Somebody took mine at a gas station in Cantonment."

"That sucks," Jane said.

"Felt weird riding without one. I had just been in Alabama, where it's illegal, and I wouldn't ordinarily ride bareheaded, period. Felt strange to have the wind in my hair."

"But kinda nice in a way?" Stephen asked.

"Yes and no. Almost too much of a good thing, and then there's the constant worry. Which is kind of stupid when you think about it -- if you wreck, you're pretty messed up anyway. Which is why I ride so as not to wreck," I laughed. Jane laughed with me.

I was beginning to get comfortable with them. They seemed like two normal people on a motorbike, as opposed to some of the strange ones I've met at diners, gas stations, and truck stops along the way. And, of course, the yuppies. I wasn't going to ask what he or she did, but I could imagine him as an engineer or a high level maintenance guy at some factory. And I could imagine her in real estate or as a nurse. I could easily imagine her as a nurse.

We got to talking about where we were going next. Stephen said they were ultimately going to Orlando -- here he looked at Jane as if to ask if you want to, that is. They were apparently making it up as they went along, like me.

"Where are you going, Harry?" she asked. Here it came -- the "do you want to ride with us?" dance. I'd turned a lot of these down in the past week. There's not only concerns about who you're falling in with, there's the fact that all of you can't really want to go to the same place. It messes with the spontaneity. And there's this feeling that you're giving up and doing what someone else wants you to do.

But I was starting to get used to the sight of her by now. "Well, I'm kind of drifting south. Orlando's nice this time of year, if you guys don't mind me riding along."

Both of them said that would be fine. They paid up and we met in the parking lot. His bike was a late-model Triumph Bonneville, which of course prompted some of the usual kidding about German and British engineering. My bike was parked across the lot; he said he'd wait for me. As I started walking off, he had gotten on the bike and I looked back to see her settling on -- it's actually a little harder to get on when you're riding pillion on a bike, but her long legs made it look easy. Her leather pants made it hard to look away. She cuddled up to him and smiled at me -- she'd caught me looking.

We got on the road and I decided I was glad I had come along -- and that he had taken the lead. Stephen had fitted the Bonnie with a tank bag and soft saddle bags, and Jane was wearing a small backpack purse. They were traveling light, which for some reason I find kind of sexy in its own right. And of course that also left my view of her ass unobstructed.

Thank goodness for the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course. It teaches you to constantly scan for potential hazards, and warns of the dangers of fixating on anything up ahead. I had to make a constant effort to watch the lines on the road, scan intersections, watch for trucks -- to look at anything but the back of Jane -- her leather-sheathed buttocks, her narrow waist, her shoulders (broadened by the pads in her crash jacket), and her ponytail fluttering behind her helmet, which turned me on as much as anything else. At least once she turned around -- to see if I was still back there? To see if I was looking at her? I made it a point to move my eyes all over the road, and she winked at me.

Too much of a good thing -- when we got to a stop light, I took the opportunity to take the lead for a while. At least the boredom was gone, for now.

When we got into Gainesville, Stephen pulled into a Starbucks. It was about four in the afternoon. We ordered coffee. They sat together on a couch, and I sank into a cozy chair beside them. "I don't know about you two, but I think this is where I want to stop for the evening. Should be someplace we can stay around here and walk over for dinner and drinks," Stephen said.

"Sounds good to me," Jane said. "my butt's getting a little sore, and I'd like to go somewhere for dinner dressed like a girl for a change."

Neither of us could argue with that. Truth be told, my saddle was getting to me too. We asked the baristas, and they said there was a LaQuinta just around the corner. A local Italian restaurant was in a shopping center practically next door. A little bit corporate all the way around, but this was Gainesville, not Mayberry.

A few minutes later, we were checked in. It was the off season, and we were able to park our bikes right in front of side-by-side ground level rooms. I could hear the shower running as Stephen and I helped each other check oil, lube, and coolant levels and wipe some road grime off our bikes. Motorcycles aren't as maintenance-intensive as they used to be, but they can still leave you by the side of the road (or worse) if you don't take care of them, especially when you're putting hundreds of miles a day on them. By the time we did all that, it was a little after five.

I told Stephen to come get me when they were both ready. Something told me I would be ready before they were. I got my gear out of my saddlebags and got into my room. I stripped off and got into the shower. I thought about the way our doors adjoined and our room layouts and realized the bathrooms shared a wall. I could hear the water running before I started my shower, and thought I heard an occasional sigh, but maybe that was my imagination.

Then I heard a thud, followed by an unmistakably rhythmic sound -- feet? Asses? Hands on the wall? Whatever was making the sounds, it wasn't hard to imagine what they were up to, especially as the sighing turned into low moans, and then into higher-pitched little cat-like shrieks. So she was a bit of a screamer. I love women like that -- you always know how you're doing.

I went and got some hand lotion, leaving a wet trail on the floor between the shower and the sink. Soon I was blissfully stroking myself to the rhythm they had created, biting my lip to stay quiet, even though I knew they had to realize I was just a thin wall away from their wild, noisy humping, and probably didn't care. Regardless, I was rock hard before I even got started, and came in less than a minute. And came and came. It had been two or three days. Yes, there are plenty of chances to masturbate when you're alone in motel rooms night after night, but honestly I had gotten bored with doing that, too.

I made sure all the semen made it down the drain (one of my quirks -- I hate for motel maids to know I've been jacking off in their bathrooms) and started washing the grime off. They were reaching a rapid finale themselves, from the sound of things. By the time I was drying off, all I could hear was running water. I was getting semi-hard again, but decided any further relief could wait until after dinner, when I might hear another installment from the even thinner walls between our headboards.

I had been dressed for fifteen minutes and had been watching ESPN for ten minutes more when I heard a knock on my door. I answered it -- "Hello?!" Jane had knocked, not Stephen. He was right behind her, dressed in a somewhat cleaner version of what he'd been wearing on the road.

She, on the other hand, was wearing another form-fitting top, with a short denim jacket over that, and a mid-thigh denim skirt and high heels. Her hair was still damp and she had pulled it back in a ponytail. A turquoise Kokopelli pendant hung between her breasts on a silver chain. Her makeup was minimal, and perfect, and a slight scent of shampoo drifted in with her, along with an even fainter scent that could be a spicy/musky cologne or could be the natural scent of a woman who'd just been fucked half senseless. She had the look -- sparkling eyes and slightly parted lips. Stephen looked about the same as he had when he was working on the bikes with me, except he was smiling a lot.

"You look different," I said, wanting to pay her a compliment but not wanting to go too far out on a limb.

"Well, thanks, I think," she laughed. "I hope so."

"Ready?" Stephen interjected.

"And waiting," I said.

Drinking some wine and waiting for dinner to arrive, we talked about our motorcycling experiences. Stephen was one of those guys who'd grown up on dirt bikes. He said he'd ridden little 50cc bikes as a kid before he learned to ride a bicycle. I, on the other hand, had taken it up as a beginner only about a year ago.

"I've gotten the hang of everything, I think. But one thing I haven't done," I said, draining the last of my third glass of wine. Fatigue and a little bit of dehydration was causing the wine to hit me about as fast as I was hitting it, but it tasted fantastic. I wasn't going to ride again for 12 hours -- I could afford to get a little wasted.

"What's that?" Jane asked.

"I haven't carried anyone pillion."

Stephen and Jane looked at each other. I started blushing a bit. "Oh, that wasn't a suggestion. Just something I haven't ticked off on my motorcycling resume." I told myself it was the wine talking, but it was more likely because of the daydream I'd been having all day long -- her thighs around my hips, her breasts up against my back, her hands on my waist.

Some signal must have passed between Jane and Stephen that I didn't catch, because she said "I'll ride with you some tomorrow. It's no big deal." She smiled at me when she said it.

Stephen became all business. I was getting more and more convinced he was an engineer. He talked about how the extra weight affects balance and braking. He got swatted on the arm at least once by Jane for using the word "weight" too often. "Jane's obviously an experienced pillion rider, which is what you need for your first time out," he said. "Let's get out of Gainesville and onto the highway in the morning, and then she'll get on with you at our first stop."

"Do you have someone back home you want to take riding with you? Your wife?" she asked.

"Not exactly," I said. "My wife wouldn't ride with me. Of course, she hasn't lived with me for a few months, so..."

"Oh, sorry," Jane said. Her features clouded over. I'd only known her for about eight hours, and that was the first time I'd ever seen that look, but I hated it already.

"Why? It's not your fault," I joked, and I reached across the table and picked up her hand and kissed it. Maybe I was already drunker than I thought.

About two that morning, I awoke with my cock in my hand, already hard. I could hear them going at it on the other side of the wall, and this time without the sounds of the shower half-drowning it out.

"Oh, God," she said over and over.

"Turn over," I thought I heard him say. Her mewing sounds stopped.

"There?"

"Yeah, there, baby. Oh fuck yeah."

"More lube if you're going at it that way. Slow, baby, slow. Oh, God, yeah, slow, slow, slow," she said. "Careful if you want me to be able to ride with him tomorrow," she laughed, and the laughter became a moan.

I wasn't sure what he was doing with her, but in my mind she was taking me up the ass, and I was being very, very careful, because I sure wanted her to ride with me tomorrow. There was all the lube in the world for this job, and it was going to be done right. I eased into her, my hands steadying myself on her hips. I was her passenger, and there was no way I was falling off the saddle. I only went faster when she started begging me to, and screaming for it.

I moaned myself when I came - very loud. The sounds on the other end stopped for a moment, and then there was a giggle, and then another moan, and another.

Seven hours later, we were pulled over in a grocery store parking lot a few miles outside of Gainesville. Stephen was parked. I was idling my bike, and I was about to receive my first lesson with Jane on the back. I had both feet planted, as instructed. Jane seemed to have just a little more difficulty with the height of my seat, and getting her legs around the hard bags, but she was soon settled on. "Take her around the parking lot and practice a few starts and stops before we get on the road. Easy does it," Stephen said. "By the way, since it's hard to talk on the road, you need a signal or two. Two taps from her left hand mean 'slow down' or 'take it easy -- I'm getting nervous.' Two taps from her right hand mean 'we need to stop as soon as possible.'"

We bumped helmets the first time I took off. We both had our visors up. Jane got up close enough to my ears to say "Slow, baby, slow," and giggled. I thought I was going to lose it then, but overall it wasn't as difficult as I thought it might be. The BMW pulled fine, and stopped okay. I'd just need to plan ahead a bit more than I usually did. He was right -- Jane knew how to ride pillion. She was very relaxed and still, especially at low speeds and in turns when it counted. We got back out on the open road, and I'd say at times I almost forgot she was back there. Except for the warmth of her thighs, and when her hands moved to different spots on my jacket or waist from time to time, or when I could feel her breasts move across my back (with two motorcycle jackets between us, unfortunately). In other words, practically constantly. But I wasn't complaining. I could feel the weight shift slightly as she craned her neck around -- I was in the lead at the moment, and I figured she was turned around, giving Stephen a look like she had given me yesterday. Perhaps a wink. Toward the end of the ride sometimes I wasn't upshifting as soon as I should have. The BMW's opposed twin motor buzzes awfully hard at high RPMs. I could feel her starting to squirm on the seat a little when I did that. Finally, I got two taps from her left hand on my hip, and I quit doing it.

"Bastard," she said into my ear at the next stop light, and giggled.

We had gotten into this place called Fruitland Park and pulled into an ice cream stand. Jane was licking an ice cream cone, holding her helmet up on her waist like a football player. The picture kind of made me laugh, and finished off what little doubt still lingered that I desperately wanted to find out what she was like in bed.

Stephen, whom I was now entirely convinced was an engineer, said to Jane: "So what do you think of the BMW? Not as smooth as the Triumph, right?"

"Oh it vibrates more. But that's not entirely a bad thing," she purred, and stuck her tongue out at both of us. It was coated in vanilla ice cream.

"Well, you might want to get back on board with Stephen," I said as we finished our ice cream cones. "We're going to be getting into traffic."

"Oh, I trust you. You're doing fine, let's finish the ride." she said, and put her arm on mine. I looked back at Stephen -- that wasn't my idea. He shrugged and we walked back to the bikes. We had looked over some tourist maps, and discussed where we wanted to eat dinner and stop for the night. This time, Stephen wanted to eat dinner in Altamonte Springs at a steak place he had heard of. It would be dark by the time we finished, but traffic wasn't bad in the off-season and the roads were all lighted between here and the International Drive area, where there were great deals on motels.

We got to Altamonte Springs before dinner time, so we found a big book store and looked around. I made it a point to leave them alone. Maybe they needed to sort some things out. I had no idea if they were married or not, but clearly they were lovers. Something had transpired between us, and I didn't want to break them up. If nothing else, I didn't want to have to witness an argument. Then I really would feel like I was back home. 

As we went back and forth through the sections of the book store, though, we inevitably crossed paths. They were quiet, but there didn't seem to be a strain. Maybe she was just flirting. Maybe he was a good sport. Maybe they were swingers, both trying to seduce me. Maybe it was all my imagination and they were just two generous people helping a newbie rider learn a new skill. I walked over when I heard them laughing, and I found that we were in the "Self Improvement" aisle, i.e. where all the sex books were. They had an illustrated Kama Sutra open to a page showing a particularly intricate position. "Harry, can you imagine me doing this?" Jane laughed.

"I can try," I blurted out. Jane doubled over with laughter. I'm one of those who think you can tell something about how a woman makes love by the way they laugh, dance, or, for that matter, ride on the back of a motorcycle. Jane laughed from the belly, from the loins. Stephen smiled, almost fatherly.




Too Much of a Good Thing



Dinner was kind of a nervous affair. I felt like the proverbial shoe was going to drop, or like I had dropped a rather large brick, or two. Stephen didn't seem upset or anything, which made me feel worse. By now I knew I was going to bed with her, needed to go to bed with her. I only wondered how it was going to happen, and whether Stephen wanted to watch, or maybe get involved. I'm not much for voyeurs, and I'm not into men at all. We talked about everything but sex, and we didn't drink much because we still had a couple dozen miles to go. When it was over, Jane kissed me on the cheek in the parking lot, we all put on our helmets, and Jane climbed on to Stephen's bike. Maybe I was wrong about everything.

"So whose room am I staying in?" she said quietly. After she got her answer we went in my room. She put her helmet and riding gear on the bed nearest the door, along with a small bag she had pulled out of the luggage and her backpack purse.

"You don't like to sleep in the bed next to the door, do you? I find it always gets too hot or cold when the window unit kicks on," she said, stripping off her clothes and walking casually back to the shower. Adjoining rooms again.

I took off my clothes and put them over the chair. Jane was already in the shower. I got in behind her and started washing her back. Tan lines like you would expect with a thong; none on her back or chest. "Magnificent," I said. She was working shampoo into her hair. 

"Mmmm, glad you approve," she said. I had turned her around; I had to see those breasts. I had to touch them. I ran the washcloth over one and the other nipple between my thumb and forefinger. "Careful," she said, taking the hand off the nipple. "They're sensitive now. Later on you can do anything you want. Slow, baby, slow," she said into my mouth as she kissed me on the lips and put her arms around me.

My cock was trapped between our bellies, which were slick with soap and shampoo. "What's this?" she asked, smiling up at me. She was stroking it, and cupping my balls with her other hand. "Let's get all nice and clean first. He'll have lots of chances to play," she said, but she didn't let go until I was on the verge of coming.

I backed off, trying to calm down, trying to last. I could never come very many times in one evening. I took another washcloth off the shelf and washed myself off quickly, washed my hair, and kneeled down to pay some attention to her pussy, which was neatly trimmed in front and appeared to be shaved around the lips. Her clitoris was swollen and red. And large. No wonder she liked a little vibration on the saddle; she must be sensitive as hell. I started lapping at it with my tongue, my hair getting doused with water from the shower head. She put her hand on my head, and pushed me in closer. I started sucking and pulling on her clit, and reached up for a nipple, which was now hard as a rock.

"This is awkward. I've got a better idea," she said, and pulled the shower head off the mount on the wall. "Thank God for massaging shower heads; they're a girl's best friend." She turned her back on me and pushed me back into the wall with a little thud, then turned the water on herself, holding the shower head on her pussy with one hand while she put her arm around my head with the other. This left my arms free to play with her breasts, and she seemed to be ready for it now. My cock was between her legs, slipping along her entrance, and she was rhythmically humping it. I was overwhelmed by the feel of her big, firm breasts, and how good it felt to rub her nipples, which stood out an inch. I could tell the feel of my cock was making her hot, but I wasn't going to come this way, not unless it went in. And I wanted her to come first.

Which she did, with some moans and mewing noises. She panted and started to rub on my cock with her hand, but I stopped her. "Let's go to bed," I said in her ear.

"Good idea," she said. I dried her off, and myself. She put her hair up. The room felt a little cold. We snuggled under the covers. I couldn't stop my hands from rubbing all over her body, not that she was complaining. After I got warm again I got up and straddled her, my knees just under her arms.

I bent down and whispered in her ear, "I've wanted to get between those since I saw you in the diner."

"Get another pillow under my head and I can do a little more than that," she said. In another moment, I was experiencing sheer bliss. I was gently humping the valley between her breasts, and she had taken the head of my cock into her warm mouth. She was swirling her tongue on my glans. I was holding onto the headboard, and trying not to cry out, when I came like a rocket.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't think I would come that quickly." I climbed down and snuggled with her, spent for the moment. She smiled at me; everything was all right. She started kissing me, and twisted around until she was over me. She stuck her tongue forcibly in my mouth and deposited some of my semen into my mouth. I playfully fought back with my tongue, and some it was all over both of our chins. "Okay, so I'll get us a towel," I said, and she laughed.

I came back to bed with a damp washcloth and a towel, and we cleaned ourselves up. I spooned up behind her, and must have dozed off, incredibly enough. I woke a few minutes later; she was pushing back against me, and I was getting hard again. She turned over and pushed me on my back. She straddled me and again rubbed my cock against her clitoris. "How far do you want to go?" I asked.

"Well, I've trusted you with my life, and you've come in my mouth. I guess you putting your cock in my pussy isn't much more of a commitment."

"Do you want me to -- come in you?"

"Of course I do," she purred into my ear, and with that she pulled me into her. If I hadn't already come a few minutes ago, that probably would have been the end of that. As it was, I had to think about the Atlanta Falcons, and how poorly they were doing this year, to stay calm until we got a rhythm going. 

About the time we did, she turned around and straddled me again in the reverse cowgirl position. She held on to my knees for a while, holding herself upright, then she let herself down to the bed; her back was nearly horizontal and she supported herself on her elbows. I was getting into that twilight of sexual excitement where it seemed I could go forever: she was soaking wet, and sweating, and moaning loudly. I thought about Stephen on the other side of the wall. If he was still awake, he had to be jacking off to this. The thought excited me, and to distract myself I rubbed circles on her buttocks and lower back, which was about all I could see of her. I could see my cock sliding in and out of her pussy. I reached down and wiped some of her juices off of me with my index finger, and began to play with her anus, gently rubbing it.

"Hold on if you're gonna play with that," she said, and got off of me. I felt my cock getting cold as she rummaged in her bag. "Here, buddy," she said, slapping a bottle of lube in my hand. "Warm it up first." She mounted me again, and we soon got back at it. I was cooled off a bit by the break, and distracted by opening the bottle, but she just kept pumping away and moaning, like she was in a trance.

I rubbed the lube carefully over my index finger and thumb and touched her anus again with my index finger, and rubbed the region between the vagina and anus with my thumb. "Slow, baby, slow," she cooed. I could feel her contract under my index finger, and I massaged it open, little by little. I got one knuckle in, and let her pick up the rhythm, pushing back and back until my index finger was up to the knuckle. She started humping me faster, and shrieking, and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I pulled my index finger out just in time as she raised up and leaned back against me, my cock still jammed up in her, her hands back on my knees and frantically pushing against them. 

"Oh, oh, OH," she cried, and we both came. This time she didn't let me drift off. "You got one more left, lover?" she whispered in my ear.

"I'll see what I can do."

"If it will help, I want this one in the ass," she said, flipping over onto her stomach. "Remember, lube. Use lots." She settled down like she was sunbathing, except that her hips were raised slightly.

I upended the lube bottle and dropped a cold dollop of lube on her anus. "Owww!" she laughed. "You'll pay for that. Warm it up. Quick."

I complied as best I could, stroking the gooey mess with my fingers and starting to work the index finger back in, which I did quickly, and then the middle finger with it. She was moaning and saying "No, no, no," but I knew this was part of the act for her. Soon it was "Slow, baby, slow," and then "God, yes, yes." She had her hand underneath her and was stroking her clit.

I put more lube on my cock and positioned it at the opening. "Are you ready for this?" I bent down and whispered.

"Go slow. It hurts," she moaned, but she was squirming, willing it to go in. I held back, and teased it into the narrow opening. The head popped through, and she relaxed, totally submissive. I rubbed her back; she was sweating, and so was I.

She raised up on her knees and elbows, then grabbed the headboard tight. "Slow, baby, slow," she said, and I was. I could feel lubricant and sweat gathering on my balls, making them cold, making them shrink up even tighter. They felt like they were all the way in my body now, and my cock felt enormous in the tight shaft.

Eventually, I was in all the way, and I could hold onto one breast and toy with her clitoris, my hand over her hand. She was doing all the work now; I was just along for the ride. She pushed back and pulled forward again and again, faster and faster, each time with a moan that Stephen had to be hearing. Eventually she was still; I thought she was taking a breather until I realized she was coming in short little tremors, and I came myself.

And with that, I was done. I got in the shower and cleaned myself up, then got back into bed. She had put on a pair of plain cotton panties and a t-shirt. She spooned up against me, and I fell asleep again.

I awoke with light streaming through the window. Jane was still in bed with me, I realized with a start. I felt bad that she hadn't gone back to Stephen's room, somehow, but she must have fallen asleep. Hopefully, he'd understand. Obviously, they had a different sort of relationship in several respects.

I put on some clothes so I could go down to the lobby for some coffee. When I looked out in the parking lot I could see that Stephen's Triumph was gone.



Too Much Of A Good Thing?



Too much of a good thing?

He came in from work at the usual time, tired and ready for a relaxing night. As ever, his girlfriend heard him and ran to meet him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him deeply.

'I've waited all day for you,' she said, with lust in her voice. All she did was sit around all day, never lifting a finger around the house, all she thought of was sex, and wanted it morning, noon and night. When they first got together he couldn't believe his luck, but now he felt tired and found her constant demands for sex annoying. Tonight would be different though, and he'd been doing some planning and preparation whilst at work. Taking her hands from around his neck he held them, and with some rope from his pocket he bound them together before she realised what he was doing.

'I've a surprise for you,' he said as he slipped a scarf over her eyes, blindfolding her.

'But darling, all I want is a fuck,' she replied.

'Maybe tonight you'll get more than you bargained for,' he said, and with that he tied another scarf over her mouth, preventing her from speaking.

Intrigued by what he could mean, she was led up the stair and into their bedroom. Leaving her in the centre of the room with a command not to move, he produced a large bag, which contained, among other things, a long piece of rope. He tied the rope to the piece around her wrists and threw the other end over the beam running along the centre of the room. Catching it as it fell he began to pull on the end, raising her bound arms above her head. She tried to protest, but could only mumble into the gag.

Soon she was raised almost off the ground, standing on her tiptoes with most of her weight being supported by her arms. He tied the rope off and with a further piece bound her ankles together before leaving her like that for a second, enjoying her obvious discomfort. Taking a knife from his back he began to slowly cut apart her blouse. Once her top was removed he cut the straps on her bra, exposing her breasts. She could feel the cold steel of the knife against her skin and this was making her nervous in her vulnerable position. He ran his hands down her body, kissing her beautiful bare chest before pulling down her skirt and pants in one movement, making her cry out into the gag. He continued kissing down her body and she felt, to her relief, his hands untie the rope around her ankles. However, her relief was short lived as her legs were pulled roughly open and a spreader bar was attached to each ankle, holding them apart. He lowered the rope holding her arms a little until she was once again standing on her tiptoes. Only now did his step back to admire his handiwork. She looked divine hanging there naked with her legs spread, her breathing heavy from the rough treatment, the discomfort of her predicament but also, he suspected, because it was all turning her on. His suspicions were confirmed by the glistening of her wetness between her legs.

After returning once again to his bag he stood behind her and ran his hands up he thighs. She moaned deeply as he slid his fingers inside her, delighting to feel how aroused she was. She moaned again as she felt a rope being passed between her legs and tied around her waist, as it rubbed deliciously against her clit, and then she moaned for a third time as she felt the unmistakable feeling of a large vibrator being pressed against the opening of her cunt. Slowly he slid the vibrator inside her and once he was happy with its position he moved the rope over the end, holding it in place before turning it on. The low vibrations immediately began to fill her body and she bucked around in her bindings, trying to get more feeling from it. She felt his hands around her neck as he fastened some sort of collar around it.

'This collar,' he explained, 'monitors your heart rate and your breathing, and so can tell how horny on you are. However,' he went on, 'the best part is that it is connected to the toy placed between your beautiful thighs. The more turned on you are, the faster the vibrator hums. Clever huh?'

She nodded in answer but in truth was not paying him much attention as she focussed on the delightful sensation between her legs.

'Now,' he said, 'I'm tired so I'm going to leave you.'

She shook her head, begging him not to go. Instead, he stood near her and whispered into her ear,

'Remember, if you want to have fun tonight, you'll have to think dirty thoughts.'

He laughed, 'Maybe this will help though,' as he removed the blindfold and strolled out of the room.

She opened her eyes and was greeted by her reflection in the full-length mirror he had placed in front of her. She had never seen such an erotic sight in all her life. There she was, completely naked. With her arms bound above her head she was forced to stick her chest out, and her pert breasts looked wonderful, her nipples full and erect from her arousal. Her face was contorted by the gag in her mouth and the collar around her neck only added to the image of submission. Between her bound legs she could see the vibrator, it's shaft slick with her own juices. This vision made her heart beat faster and her breathing, restricted by the gag, filled the room. Just as he had said, she felt the vibrations between her legs intensify. As her impending orgasm built and she became more and more aroused, the vibrator sped up until she felt the delicious feeling in her cunt spread throughout her whole body. Her climax was the most powerful she had ever felt, the feeling of helplessness and the discomfort of her position adding to the breathtaking feeling. Wave after wave hit her as the vibrations continued until she felt completely spent. It was then that the full enormity of her predicament hit her. The only way she could get any relief was to stop feeling so turned on. She tried to slow her breathing down, but all she could she was her reflection in the mirror. By now her thighs were glistening as the wetness flowed from her cunt and down her open legs, soaking the vibrator and the rope holding it steady. Her entire body was covered in perspiration.

'Oh, God, help me', she thought, panicking as the second orgasm came quickly, and was, if anything, more intense than the first. As the waves of her climax crashed over her, she pulled at the ropes binding her, thrashing around and crying into the gag. The orgasm subsided and she hung limply from the ropes, sobbing as tears ran down her cheeks and over her beautiful breasts. The vibrations between her legs were still increasing and there was hardly a pause before she came for the third time. This time there was no respite as she came repeatedly. Her entire body was trembling with uncontrollable desire, her muffled screams filling the room. Her bound legs were slick with her own juices and her vision began to blur. For fifteen minutes she remained in this state of extreme arousal, climaxing at least fifty times, each blissful orgasm merging with the next until her body could take no more. The room went black and her head slumped forward in unconsciousness.

He returned after about an hour and untying her, laid her on the bed and gently stroked her face until she came round.

'You put on quite a show' he said, waving the video cassette he had removed from the camera positioned to capture her ordeal.

'Once you're feeling up for it, we'll watch this together', he smiled as she closed her eyes and drifted into a deep sleep. 



Too Much of a Good Thing?



 (This takes place in the Star Wars galaxy, around the time when Luke Skywalker was still whining around Tattooine. I've never read the Star Wars books, so this will probably contradict official history. This is just my idea of what would happen and why.)




Parjee Moon lay prone on the ground looking into the Storm Trooper barracks. It was night, and luckily only a couple of the dimmer moons were up, helping her to remain undetected. The barracks was L shaped, and near as she could tell, your rank determined what floor you lived in, with lowest being on the bottom, which was almost completely underground. Almost was good, because the top meter was windows that could be clearly observed. In her position at the inside angle of the L, the left windows showed large open bay rooms with dozens of beds, and on the right was a smaller open bay room with showers. 

Like many others, she had heard that storm troopers were all clones, but had a hard time believing it. There were millions of them, and it seemed impossible, even for the Empire and the crazy lizard Palpatine. It was also rumored that the Emperor used to be humanoid, but had spliced in bizarre reptilian DNA during multiple self clonings. While she would never (hopefully) get close enough to get a good look at the Emperor, sneaking onto the Stormtrooper base had been relatively simple. Tonight she would be able to confirm or deny the rumors, satisfying her curiosity.

As her eyes adjusted to light from the windows, she saw a platoon of soldiers come into the empty beds room. They instinctively went to the right beds, even though they all looked the same. They appeared to be talking, and while not in unison, performed very similar actions. They stowed their weapons and pushed buttons on the beds, causing a pole to lower where they took off their armor and hung the pieces in a set order. A few would occasionally assist each other, which was interesting, because they didn't seem to have the normal hesitation that males expressed touching each other. It wasn't erotic, it was simply automatic casualness.

As they removed their helmets, Parjee could see faces and outlines of faces. She stared in amazement as she saw the rumor was true, they were clones. Most of the faces were identical, although there were a few different ones, such as a random scar, birthmark, or tattooed rank insignia on a forehead. Their haircuts were also strikingly similar, with slight variations, but still obviously clones. They were all human, with light brown skin, dark hair and dark eyes, and an almost handsome symmetrical face.

Movement caught her eye from the far left of the room. A higher ranking trooper was escorting a grunt in, and the body language and occasional shoves showed that the grunt was obviously in disfavor. They walked over to the grunts' bed, where the sergeant was obviously berating the grunt, which was made up differently than the other beds. This seemed to agitate the sergeant further, causing him to toss the bed contents around and finally butt stroke the grunt upside the head with his weapon before leaving. While all this was going on, the other storm troopers carried on about their business, with the only acknowledgment being a tossed item was moved out of the way if necessary.

After the sergeant left, the grunt was surrounded by the others and obviously being swarmed with questions and scolding. The grunt removed his armor, putting his up in a slightly different configuration, causing a few of the others to roll their eyes and shake their heads. Parjee noticed something slightly different about his face, so she used binocular lenses to get a better look. She saw that his forehead had some sort of odd burn scars, then realized from looking at the others that the grunt had had a rank tattoo removed, probably as a disciplinary measure. 

The grunt made a rude gesture at the door, obviously meant for the departed sergeant, then pushed up a sleeve. Parjee focused on that, and saw a tattoo. The other troopers had tattoos, but they were obviously official, for identifying markers, military record, or medical documentation. This grunt had a tattoo of a leaf burning, the leaf being dull and starting to blacken with the flame marks shining and catching the light by embedded enhancement. The tattoo was obviously very unauthorized and the grunt was showing it off with pride. One of the other troopers thumped the new tattoo and the grunts' forehead then pointed to other spots on the grunt. Parjee looked over the exposed flesh of the grunt, and saw other unauthorized tattoos and burn scars, ostensibly from other disciplinary actions. Wow, a troublemaker?

The troopers began getting comfortable, stripping off their lining body suits, and taking turns heading to the showers in orderly fashion. Parjee now focused on the showers having a completely unobstructed view, since the room was devoid of any features except benches and hooks on the walls, and poles where water sprayed to bathe the users, 4 to a pole.

The men were all physically fit, neither slender nor bulky, and once again having minor differences. A few did sport a discreet unauthorized tattoo, and since the shower view was closer than the bed view, Parjee saw more variance in haircuts including shaved heads, and realized that a few were even growing some facial hair in different styles. All in all, still obviously clones and conformists, except for the grunt.

He came in joking and almost rowdy, and had far more tattoos and burn scars, and other scars. Parjee could now see that his hair was starting to grow from a art design cut with dark green accents. This grunt was very different, which seemed so odd for a clone. After the men showered, they went back to the beds room, changing into comfortable clothes. The first soldier who finished showering instead put on most of his armor, not including his helmet, then left. He came back a few minutes later escorting 3 shackled females. They followed him without resistance, until he led them to the section of beds where the platoon was, and pushed them down to their knees. The females held up their shackled hands, and as the restraints were taken off, the troopers moved in.

Parjee was horrified when the trooper in armor groped one of the women and she realized what was about to happen. They were about to be gang-raped by this platoon, and you couldn't stop it or do anything about it later because they were stormtroopers. She began to feel panic and nausea as she prepared to leave, then noticed something.

The females were smiling and fondling the armored soldier back. Then they would reach out and grab another soldier and begin kissing and fondling him. One pulled her breasts out of her shirt and pulled two troopers over, one to suck each nipple. Parjee zoomed in with her lenses, seeing the obvious enjoyment of the women and the soldiers, with hands and tongues probing and pleasuring. The troopers who had not been grabbed began stroking their penises, enjoying but obviously not trying to satisfy themselves yet.

The female with two troopers, probably Zaybrack from the horns, was now laying on her back on a bed, being vigorously fucked by one trooper while sucking off her other. She said something to a 3rd, so he moved in and began to rapidly stroke his penis while she cupped his balls. Another female was now busy sucking off two soldiers while riding a third, and the last female was bent over a bed, spreading her ass cheeks while being fucked hard from behind. As soon as the trooper in her came, she immediately summoned another to resume the rough pistoning.

Parjee was now shocked and delighted. These females had not been brought here to be raped, but pleasured. She worked her hand down to her crotch, rubbing her clit through her clothes. She wondered if she could have an orgasm from the minimal physical stimulation and the carnal display in front of her.

"Enjoying the show?" Parjee nearly jumped out of her skin as she flipped onto her back. A sergeant Stormtrooper was there, his weapon held casually. Parjee was now ready to die of fright and embarrassment. Images of every bizarre and horrible way to die flashed through her mind, and she desperately looked around, trying to find a route of escape. He took off his helmet, and she saw the same clone face (with a large scar running from the corner of his right eye to the right edge of his mouth and down his chin) smiling with amusement. "Don't try running, this base is locked down. We've been tracking you since before you hit the perimeter. When our scans showed you were harmless, we decided to see what you would do."

Parjee's voice trembled as the sergeant pulled her to her feet easily. Being closer to him, she could faintly see that he seemed a little older than the troopers she had been observing, and the look in his eyes was definitely a more experienced person. "I didn't mean any harm. I just wanted to see if the rumors about cloning were true. I won't tell anyone about it. I'm a loyal citizen, I've never been in trouble. Please! Don't hurt me."

The sergeant led her around the building to an office. Inside, two junior troopers barely glanced at them, then resumed work after a nod from the sergeant. The sergeant sat Parjee in a chair, and rather than take his seat at the desk, instead leaned backwards on it so he could look down at her. "You're probably wondering what we are going to do with you." She nodded, tears filling her eyes. "Well, that is entirely up to you. You see, we can't have you telling people what you saw."

"I swear I won't tell anyone about the cloning. I mean, nobody would believe it anyway." The sergeant cut her off by raising his hand.

"We don't care about that, it's a matter of public record that one of the greatest Mandalorian warriors ever brought order to the galaxy by artificially fathering a new race of soldier. We are genetically superior, we have the resources of the Empire at our disposal, and we have taken the best of Mandalorian honor to become an undefeatable force for peace and the greater good. As clones, we are all brothers, and while we mourn the loss of every fallen brother, we take great pride and comfort in knowing that another brother, just as worthy, will step into his spot in a moment. The Emperor and politicians like to make their long speeches, but it is us, the Stormtroopers, who have built the Empire and will sustain it."

He paused and shifted, "No, what we don't want getting out is the part about the females. It would create far too many problems. Those women would have social stigma to endure when they have done nothing wrong, mobs would assume that we drag women onto the base for mass rape, and the politicians and senior military officers seem to think that we are machines instead of men, with no desire for women. There are things that my brothers keep quiet, because we are different, and getting others involved who aren't family would make things bad. So that leaves us with only 2 real options."

Parjee shook with terror, even when the sergeant kneeled down and took her hands. "We are not going to hurt you. We can either give you a quick harmless neural shock that will erase about a days' worth of memory and process you for petty nuisance infractions, then release you in the morning with a warning about not littering, or..." at this point he snapped his fingers. The junior troopers looked up, then departed without a word when he pointed to the door.

"Or, you seemed to enjoy watching us. How would you like to experience that kind of pleasure for yourself? If you do, we will give you a marker, as a loyal citizen who receives special consideration, and we are warriors with honor, not savages. You will never be forced or coerced by any of my brothers, everything will be with your explicit consent." He leaned into her so his mouth was less than an inch from hers. "We won't even kiss you without your permission. We enjoy women, they enjoy us. So which would you rather have?"

Parjee's initial reaction was apprehension, until she caught the smell of the sergeant. It was the smell of earth and metal, with a hint of smoke and leaves. She took a deep breath, and found herself feeling slightly intoxicated, and very aroused. She looked in his eyes, and found herself falling into the endless brown velvety pools. She tried focusing on his other features, his jaw-strong and firm, his lips-full and sensuous, even his forehead-which was high and open showing intelligence. His face was perfect, and the smell, the more she smelled it, the stronger it became. She tried looking away from his face, but her gaze seemed to follow the lines of his body, making her wonder what it would feel like to have that broad chest pressed against hers, and those arms holding her.

She whispered, "yes." 

"Yes what?"

She started breathing heavy, and shook her head. "Wait, I don't... that is... I don't think I could handle an entire platoon!"

The sergeant chuckled, the quiet laughter blowing more of his scent into her nose. "As I said, only what you expressly permit. When you do this, it will be exactly how you choose. You'll be family, and the highest order for us is never to harm family." 

"So I get to pick who?" He nodded. "And only what I want to do?" He nodded again. "So what if I want you?"

He leaned closer, so close that her mouth could actually feel the heat from his lips, "Then show it." 

Parjee leaned in and kissed him, and it consumed her. It was like that kiss was conveying skill, strength, gentleness, passion, and the promise of overwhelming pleasure. When they finally stopped, her clothes were opened and she had started trying to remove his armor. He caught her hands, leaned over and whispered into her ear, "We will get to that, as soon as you meet the family." He gently rubbed his lips over her throat, and her head filled with that amazing smell, making her dizzy.

He led her through a hall, and just before they hit the door to the beds area, she paused. "Wait. I saw something before." The sergeant gave her a patient look. "One of the men I saw seemed... different. He is obviously one of you, but different."

the sergeant smiled wryly. "Whenever you have cloning on this mass scale, you will have aberrations. Technology will never fully overcome nature. Some of these aberrations make a brother a little taller or shorter, maybe weaker or left handed, and in some cases, it changes the personality. I know the one you are talking about. He is a regular discipline problem, but also seems to have natural leadership ability and tactical prowess with it. Many higher ranking soldiers were like him; I was. If he can avoid the Recycler, he will probably be a leader."

Parjee gave him a puzzled look. "Recycler?"

The Sergeant nodded. "When a brother dies, or has committed such gross violations that he needs to be terminated, his body is put into an organic recycling unit where it is broken down into component material that will be used to create other brothers. No brother ever really dies, because he is always reborn."

Parjee thought this over. After a few moments the sergeant leaned over her and whispered, "Are you ready?" 

Her heart raced as she anticipated what was about to happen, and again his smell filled her head. It was almost impossible to have a clear thought. She gripped his arm and asked, "What if I want him?"

The sergeant slid his hand over her stomach and cupped her breast. "Then you can have us. I told you, whatever you want." With that, he led her into the barracks into the platoons berthing area.

The soldiers who weren't occupied with the other females, including the grunt, casually surrounded them. Their cocks were all at least semi hard, and there was lust in their eyes. The sergeant held up his hand and spoke in a language Parjee didn't understand. The soldiers gave her kind smiles, while their eyes still glittered with desire. He said something to the grunt which brought a huge grin and nod, then turned to her, "So, are you ready?"

She looked around nervously, "Here, right in front of everyone?"

He kissed again, moving his hands over her, "Yes. You are going to be family. There is no need for shame or fear. Here is the safest place you can be, and where you will be the most loved." 

He sat her up on the edge of one of the beds, then they began removing her clothing and his armor. Accepting hands took the items, with soldiers sometimes taking a moment to smell or gently fondle her clothes, then passing them along. As he teased her breasts and stroked her skin, the other soldiers murmured their approval and appreciation of her. The sergeant began kissing her neck, traveled down to one of her nipples, across to the other, then finally down to her pussy. He spread her legs gently, and opened her outer labia so the others could see. Seeing all these men desire her, and they all had a smell like the sergeant, made Parjee nearly insane with lust. 

Where the sergeant kissed her was on fire now, and the air over her open pussy seemed to be moving from the breathing of the soldiers, tickling her. She groaned in frustrated heat, and tried pulling the sergeant closer. He easily resisted her struggles, knelt down, and blew into her opening. Parjee gasped and he smiled at her. He began licking around, not on, her clit, nearly driving her insane. She moaned audibly, laid back but propped on her elbows so she could look down at him. His brown eyes stared at her from between her legs, and she would close her eyes in bliss, then open them and see those same brown eyes all around her, wide with desire.

As she moved her hand up to fondle her breast, the grunt leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You know, we'd love to do that for you. Just give the word."

The sergeant snapped to attention and cocked his fist back to punch the grunt, rage on his face. The grunt put his hands up in a surrender motion, "Hey Sarge, I didn't touch her. I just told her we were ready whenever she wanted."

Parjee reached up and kissed the sergeant, and told him, "He didn't touch me yet. Can I have him after you?"

As the sergeant nodded and relaxed the grunt smiled down at her, "After, or during. Whatever you want." 

Parjee guided the sergeant back down between her legs and this time he focused on her clit. She moaned again and grabbed the grunt for a kiss. As her kissed her, he massaged her breast and played with the nipple. Her legs began to tremble as the sergeant continued to lick her; as good as he was, there must have been several women who had been pleasured in these barracks. He took her clit in his teeth, and flicked the tip with his tongue, causing her to jerk. "Fuck!" she cried out.

He raised his head to smile at her, "Is that an order?"

She pulled him up and close to her, "Yes!" she hissed.

The sergeant rubbed the tip of his cock at her opening, already soaking wet. She reached down and stroked it, admiring the feel. the skin was velvety soft with pulsing veins, so the texture would be ultra stimulating. It wasn't overly large, but a nice size and thickness that would be ideal for any position, including the deep penetrations. he teased her until she groaned "Now", then began pumping it in. The initial friction had her moments from orgasm. As she reached down to touch her clit, she saw 2 troopers right next to the sergeant, craning their heads to watch her pussy consuming his dick. She grabbed one of their hands and put it to work rubbing her clit. the grunt saw this, and as the other trooper started on her clit, he began biting down and tongue flicking her nipple.

That sent Parjee over the edge. she came moaning and shaking loudly. She had had pussy orgasms and clit orgasms before, but this was a massive combined orgasm that seemed to go on much longer than usual. The sergeant, knowing that Parjee still had many eager lovers waiting, thrust deep-all the way in, and let her orgasm set off his. He grunted and pulled on her shoulder so his cock slammed as far in as it could from the reverse thrust. He stayed in her until the orgasm finally subsided.




Too Much of a Good Thing?



As he pulled out, he panted, "Do you want more?"

She nodded and looked at the grunt. He whispered in her ear, "I could get recycled for this, but-let me be last, so when your pussy is nice and sore tomorrow, you'll remember me, that I made you that way."

She nodded, then moved into position the trooper who had fingered her clit. As he started working his cock into her, he put one leg up on his shoulder, so he could go even deeper than the sergeant. As he fucked her, she had small orgasms that caused her to spasm and shake, and she realized another trooper kept her leg up on the first troopers shoulder, stabilizing her. She nodded her thanks, and managed to point at him, "You next."

The sergeant had moved back away from Parjee to where a generic linens and towel rack was inside the room. He grabbed a couple towels and went to the shower. he bathed quickly and efficiently, wanting to get back to continue watching. As he came out, he found a central spot where he could observe all 4 women. His only concern for their safety was that they would overdo it, because he knew his brothers would never hurt them. Of all crimes, rape was the most detestable to Stormtroopers. Women were givers of life and pleasure. Instead of being generated in a factory, a woman would create life inside her, then love and nurture that being she had created. This is why women who became family were so revered by storm troopers.

Every child with the most rudimentary education knew that massive cloning, especially long term was unsustainable, so there were limits to how long it could last. The Empire had even decided to start tampering with Stormtrooper clones, with minor gains but major long term damage being sustained. It would not be long before the artificial race would be on the verge of extinction, which is where the women came in. 

They would be carefully screened and selected, and then filtered to trooper production colonies. They would have lives of privilege and ease, as mothers to a new generation/mutation of Stormtroopers. Since the new troopers would be naturally birthed instead of grown in factory tanks, they would need actual mothers also, which meant typical tribal family units. The emperor and politicians would no doubt try to stop it, but Stormtroopers were the builders and sustainers of the empire, so their race must be preserved by any means necessary, including sexual reproduction.

He saw where one of the women had been tucked into a bed and was now sleeping contentedly. She had one soldier laying snuggling with her while a couple others sat close by, reading or polishing equipment, and occasionally reaching over to touch her tenderly. 

Another woman was on the verge of exhaustion, but still picking soldiers for pleasuring. The sergeant caught the gaze of one of the soldiers and made a ceasing motion, pointing to the woman. The soldier tapped the one who was fucking the woman and said something to him. The other one nodded, then began deeper, harder strokes, to accelerate his orgasm. This caused the woman to begin an immediate climax. Soon his deep grunts mix with her high pitched moans as he buried himself in her with his own orgasm. Once he caught his breath, a few of the other soldiers carried the woman to the shower to bathe her.

The Sergeant smiled in pride. It was a testament to the genetic superiority of Stormtroopers that their pheromones would cause these women to push themselves far beyond their normal limits to achieve ecstasy unavailable with lesser males. It was known amongst family, once a woman had been to the barracks, other males were hopelessly inadequate by comparison. The women would begin committing petty nuisance crimes, deliberately being caught, so as to be arrested and 'detained'.

The Zaybrack female still looked energetic. Zaybracks are a little taller than humans, so this woman was eye to eye with the soldiers. They seemed to have more endurance, but also had more difficulty achieving orgasm. The sergeant had learned a while back to scratch and bite around the horns. The skin there wasn't very sensitive, but since it was never touched, it caused an enthusiastic response. It amazed him that most Zaybrack males didn't even know that trick; it was a wonder their race managed to reproduce. He barked over the order to the troopers , pointing at his head and her head. The woman was being fucked from behind while sucking off another. A third reached over and began scratching around her horns, with obvious effect as the one being sucked let out a loud groan and the one behind her had to grip her hip for stability.

The sergeant now looked over to Parjee. She had switched positions so that now she was leaning over the bed, with one leg propped up on it. The soldier behind her was using strokes with a slight hip pivot when he pushed all the way in. This caused her to moan on each stroke, fully savoring the feel of his cockhead deep inside her. Her moans became louder as she came again, pulling a soldier to her to kiss him and fondle her breasts as she began feeling his cock. As her orgasm subsided, she straightened enough to kiss the soldier fucking her. She said something to him, then bent all the way over the bed. He grabbed her hips then began thrusting hard. She was groping the dick of the other soldier, who was stroking his hands in her hair.

As the soldier came inside her, she cried out and pounded her fists on the bed. As soon as he withdrew, she ordered the 2nd soldier onto the bed and another behind her. With another dick entering her, she began sucking on the penis in front of her. She paused for a moment and looked at the solders around her and said something. They all smiled, then as she kept sucking and fucking, they would reach to touch her. Hands tweaked her nipples, rubbed her clit, stroked her back, and held back her hair so there was a clear view of the blowjob. Since she was being touched, tweaked, and rubbed all over, Parjee's orgasms began coming faster and stronger. As the soldiers she was sucking and fucking came, she shook and moaned nonstop, until they withdrew from her. 

At that point she flipped onto her back, and gathered the soldiers around her. She pointed to the grunt, who began finger fucking her as the other soldiers stroked their cocks vigorously. The sergeant could hear Parjee encouraging them, wanting to be splashed and covered in their cum. She would reach out and touch the soldiers, and lick the penises closest to her face. She guided other dicks so that they would touch her breasts. As the first soldier came, it seemed to set off a chain reaction with the others. Hot thick cum shot on her face, hair, tits, stomach, and one even managed to aim his load to her pussy, giving the grunt extra lubrication. She smiled joyously, then sat up. She licked the semen she could, and wiped more of it with her hands and licked it off. She now kissed soldiers, then took the hand of the grunt, who led her to the shower.

A few of the soldiers and the sergeant followed them into the other room. The others were there to seek more voyeuristic gratification, but the sergeant had his concerns. The grunt had dangerous individualist tendencies, and it was critical that he not be allowed to establish any sort of exclusive claim on this female, or any other family. It was rumored that the higher ranking you were, the fewer brothers you would share a woman with, with the generals actually having exclusive mates. He didn't know about that, but he did know that as a sergeant, he had the choice of first access to females who were brought to the platoon barracks. 

As he watched, the grunt turned on a shower and washed Parjee down completely, erasing all of the semen from her body. Only after she was completely clean did he begin aggressively kissing and handling her. At one point, the sergeant and grunt caught each other's gaze; the sergeant was staring him down as the grunt shot back a defiant look. The sergeant sighed in frustration. The grunt had experience (surviving battles with very high casualties), above average fighting prowess, natural leadership ability, and an undefeatable personality, so he was obviously one of the better aberrations, but there were problems also. Hopefully the grunt would be able to avoid the Recycler long enough to make sergeant himself, at which point those negative attributes would become assets.

The grunt had Parjee with her back resting against a shower pole, with them standing and her leg wrapped around his pelvis. He was using his arms and his chest pressed against her to support her weight, thrusting into her as the water gently washed over them. Their position was precarious, so Parjee guided them to the floor. She straddled the grunt, and he held his cock upright so she could sink down onto it. He held her firmly by the waist and ribs, controlling the pace and penetration.

The water was now hitting her back, caressing it. The room was comfortably heated, and the floor was some sort of rubbery foam. She leaned forward and kissed the grunt, then leaned back so the water washed over her breasts. A few of the other soldiers drew closer, and the grunt glared at them, but didn't say anything.

Parjee smiled tiredly "Sorry boys, this is my last one. You wore me out."

The grunt pulled her down for another kiss and said in her ear, "Thank you. I wanted you to remember me." He clasped her hands in his, and controlled the tempo and motions by guiding her with their hands. He pulled her close and stretched her out so he could suck her nipples, he pushed her back upright so she rode him, he even would jerk down on her hands as he thrust up, penetrating her far deeper than she had ever felt being on top.

He began to feel his orgasm building, and pulled her down. He said in her ear, "I'm close. Get ready and trust me."

She nodded and kissed him. He straightened her out, then quickly rolled them over so he was on top. They were in missionary position, but her legs were bent up close to her body around his arms, causing his thrusts to be painfully, miraculously deep. Her moans almost became screams, as it seemed she could feel him up inside her chest.

He gritted, "Play with yourself. Start cumming." She complied and in less than a minute she was having the most intense orgasm of her life. As she jerked and spasmed with her whole body, he lowered his chest, with his body giving stabilizing resistance. When she attempted to move her hand from her now aching clitoris, he barked at her "don't stop." 

She kept going gingerly, then his motions starting to become erratic and more intense. He breathing became growls and grunts and realizing how close he was kept her going. He thrust brutally hard, practically bouncing off of her abused pelvis. Finally, he quickly grabbed her and pulled her to him as he shot hot semen into her. She screamed and passed out, hearing her name being whispered over and over in her ear. 

When she came to, she was lying on one of the beds. She was in a comfortable robe and covered with a blanket. Her pillow was the lap of a soldier, and at her feet, another soldier sat, reading tablet in one hand with his other resting on her feet over the blanket. he was obviously keeping her feet warm by pressing them against his thigh. She could just see the top of another trooper sitting on the floor in front of the bed she was laying on.

As she stirred, the soldiers on the bed smiled at her, and the one on the floor got to his feet; it was the grunt. He kneeled down so his face was level with hers. "Hi. Sleep well?"

She sighed and sat up. "How long was I out?"

The soldier at her head answered. "About an hour. You've had quite a night. Well take you somewhere more comfortable now where you can rest until morning."

Parjee was a little disappointed, but not surprised. After the events of the evening, well, it wasn't like anyone would be looking to cuddle with the barracks pass-around. She nodded. The soldiers on either side of her took her hands to lead her elsewhere. The grunt picked up her clothes and went to follow, but he was intercepted by the sergeant.

"You're restricted to barracks, remember?" The grunt gave the sergeant a disbelieving stare, but did not resist as the sergeant took Parjee's clothes and handed them to a different soldier. He looked down at her. "We do have to enforce discipline, but these others will keep you company for the night if you want. You'll find your cell to be rather comfortable; we have special accommodations for certain citizens."

Parjee nodded. " All right, that would be nice." She looked at the soldiers holding her hands, "what should I call you?" They gave her puzzled looks. "What are your names?"

One of the soldiers replied, "We don't have names, just our formation and duty designators."

Parjee looked at the grunt incredulously. "None of you has a name?"

The grunt chuckled and rubbed the scar on his forehead ruefully, "I had one before I got busted. That's alright; I'll earn it back. I volunteered for a tour on Dath; if I make it back I'll have it again."

The sergeant pulled an instrument off of his belt and held it to the base of Parjee's throat. "this will sting a little." there was a small snap and she felt a sharp pinch. "that is a marker. If you have any trouble or get detained, just let the trooper know you have a marker. You will be protected and cared for."

At this the sergeant gave her a hug and kiss and wished her well. Several of the other soldiers also hugged and kissed her, with the grunt taking an extra moment to stare at her face, like he was committing it to memory. 

She spent the night in a comfortable room with a lock that was for show, and a soldier embracing her as she slept. At one point, she did wake him up for sex, and he responded eagerly. She was released in the morning with the other 3 women, all with satisfied looks on their faces. Parjee had a lot to think about. The four women had giggled and made comments about last night's adventure, but she wasn't sure about repeating it. 

Epilog: Parjee was in a small shop, restless and irritable, with the shopkeeper taking forever. She growled at the back of the tall woman in front of her who was arguing, and had now knocked over a small display. The shopkeeper grew irate and threatened to call authorities if she didn't leave. The woman turned as she knocked over a second display spewing profanity. Parjee's eyes widened as she recognized the Zaybrack woman from the barracks. The woman smiled at her and said in a low voice, "You can thank me later." She turned back to the shopkeeper and shouted at him "Call every cursed Stormtrooper in the system if you want. You are not going to take advantage of us like that, and we will demolish every piece of junk in here!" The irate clerk pressed a button and a few moments later troopers walked in. Parjee and the Zaybrack were arrested and put into a prisoner transport. Inside, their markers were scanned, then the troopers in the transport removed their helmets. When the armor seal broke, Parjee could smell smoke and leaves, and could feel herself becoming instantly aroused and wet. The Zaybrack grabbed a soldier by the hair and kissed him, then smiled at Parjee, "Ready to go serve the Empire again?"