4 comments/ 32641 views/ 10 favorites Twenty Says By: bellefleure September 2009 I should have known how things were going to end the moment Adam took his wallet out. We'd been dating for over a year and had gotten comfy with one another's mannerisms and foibles to the extent we were very couply so anything out of the ordinary meant trouble. In a good way. It was our scheduled regular night in: food and wine in front of a DVD. Except it appeared he had other ideas. We'd been drinking a little during dinner and I was what one of my colleagues often referred to as 'socially relaxed'. Adam stood up in front of me in his typically nerdy attire -- as if to quell any doubt, his T-shirt sported the large phonetic spelling of 'geek'. With boyish charm wrapped in a lanky frame, balanced by an off-the-wall sense of humour, I adored my geek. He counted twenty out of his wallet and handed it down to me. I looked up at him, puzzled. "Since when do I get housekeeping? What's the catch?" A sly grin broke out on his face. "Go upstairs and change. You can wear anything you choose, but twenty says I have some say in your outfit." "Specifically?" He counted the rules on his fingers. "One: short skirt or dress; Two: hold-ups; Three: heels." "Is that it?" "Yep. Everything else -- your choice of top and underwear -- is entirely up to you. Show me your sexy side." "Which side would that be?" "All of them." "What are we going to do? So I can dress appropriately." "You'll find out." "Not even a clue?" He shook his head and proffered the cash. I had to trust him. The glint in his eye said it would be worth it. "Deal," I said, snatching the notes from his hand. I stood and kissed him quickly then ran upstairs. He called up after me, "Bring the money back down." On the way up I was smiling to myself at how easy it was going to be, but by the time I reached the bedroom I'd altered my outlook. The trouble is that when someone says you can wear anything at all, suddenly it becomes difficult to make a decision. Standing in front of the wardrobe, I pondered. Heels and hold-ups went well with my very short black skirt because the band at the top of the hosiery would just be visible beneath the hem. It was an attractive proposition that was sure to make his blood boil, but it wasn't very subtle. That could be a last resort in case nothing else presented itself. I had a couple of evening gowns from various functions and balls I had attended over the years, but what if they were too theatrical or too fussy for whatever he had planned? I thumbed the hangers. There were plenty of regular dresses for different seasons but there was always something wrong with each one: too long, too elaborate, too flimsy, too everything. Decisions, decisions. Eventually I whittled it down to a handful of choices but it took a few attempts at holding each garment against me to decide that my black floral print dress with the integral belt would be the one. It made me feel glamorous and less like a trophy date than the alternatives. Stripping to my underwear I admired myself in the full-length mirror. The gym sessions had started to pay off at last, and as I flexed my tummy muscles felt satisfaction at the results. Trim but not thin; lithe yet curvy in the places men paid most attention, and now -- thanks to my regular encounters with the rowing machine -- with stamina to match my burgeoning sexual appetite. Adam had really started to bring out the animal in me recently and the extra energy meant I found it easier to keep up with his physical demands. I unhooked and discarded my bra in a corner of the room and cupped my ample boobs with petite hands. The pale pink nipples pointed straight out and topped large, toffee-coloured areolas perched on my soft, fleshy mounds. Was there a hint of sag about them now, or was it my imagination? I wasn't getting any younger, but hoped the latter held true. Sifting through my bra collection I contemplated the options. Underwired: definitely. Balcony: why not accentuate? Lace: without a doubt. That left me Hobson's choice, which suited me just fine. At least one decision was easy. Fastening the clasp, the burgundy bra felt snug against my breasts, taking up their weight as it performed the lift and separate task. I studied the effect in the mirror and made some adjustments to let the alabaster upper surface spill a little. Perfect, I smiled. Up and out, just as men like them. Now for the panties. I rummaged the drawer looking for some that would deliver the right message: if I was going to dress up I was determined to do it properly. I adored dressing up, even just for a dinner date at a cheap local restaurant with Adam, so to be paid for doing something I loved was my kind of heaven. The unsettling feeling that there had to be a catch somewhere along the line tugged at my subconscious, but I trusted Adam so did my best to push such thoughts aside and concentrate on making the most of my assets for him. My underwear choices were my dark grey boy-shorts with a blackberry trim, the damson cotton panties with a cutesy bow at the front, a deep purple piece of fabric that tied at the sides and left little to the imagination, a burgundy thong, or something completely wacky like Spongebob Squarepants knickers. Eeny meeny miny moe. Although the colour wasn't quite the same match as the bra, I was drawn to the piece of flimsy material and nodded to myself. I'd been wearing a thong all day so something a little out of the ordinary would be a welcome change. And these were sexy as hell and didn't often leave the drawer. Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my thong I watched myself slide the garment slowly down, feeling it snap out from between my tight buttocks, rolling it onto my thighs then down the remainder of my long legs to pool at my feet. I stood there momentarily, observing the way the burgundy bra enhanced the rise and fall of my breasts with my breathing. Passing a critical eye over my stomach and curvaceous hips I turned left then right, pouting a little, sucking in my belly. I still had some work to do, but Adam didn't seem to notice. He'd notice even less once those tiny panties were on. Or off. My gaze fell lower. Nestled between my legs was the object of Adam's desire: my virtually hairless pussy. A small two-inch-wide tuft of fur covered the area above my clit which Adam enjoyed nuzzling against as he went down on me. I'd begun shaving at his request on my 30th birthday, not long after we'd met. The act made us both so hot that we spent the afternoon in bed and, to make it fair, I shaved him too, enjoying the feel of his hair-free balls resting in my mouth as I swirled my tongue over their wrinkled surface. I shuddered in warm remembrance and stepped fully out of my thong. After I had positioned the purple scrap of material over my smooth nether lips and gingerly tied the straps I stepped back to admire myself, front and back. I liked what I saw and was sure Adam would too: the panties barely covered the important bits. I sat on the edge of the bed and chose some opaque hold-ups, then guided them over my small feet and shapely calves to their resting place, snapping each of the cool black bands against my slender thighs. They made my legs look sleek and lean and I felt powerful, making a mental note to wear them more often. Time for the shoes. There was no contest here: my most recent acquisition was a pair of Louboutin heels that added around four inches to my height. After slipping them on, I stood. That made quite a difference to the overall effect. My bottom jutted out provocatively and the angle of the instep ensured my breasts were thrust even further forward and skyward. Was he in for a surprise! Eager now to show off I quickly pulled the dress over my head and zipped it, tying the belt behind me. Twirling to let the dress spin and float back to caress my sheer thighs I decided I needed some final touches. Lipstick: red of course. A delicate Tiffany chain around my neck to direct his gaze if the bra and low-cut dress were too subtle. A pair of silver stud earrings and some dabs of perfume behind my knees and between my breasts. I squirted a little for my neck too, then combed my dark hair so it half covered my face and danced over my shoulders, finishing midway down my back. I grabbed the cash from the bed and a final check in the mirror confirmed what I already knew: Adam wouldn't stand a chance to get through whatever he had planned. I was far too irresistible. That was where I had underestimated him. As I descended the stairs carefully in my black heels and entered the living room I found him sat on one of our straight-backed kitchen chairs in the centre of the room. The air smelled faintly of struck matches, the only light now the soft glow from the lamp on the sideboard, and the mantelpiece lined with flickering candles. It was still warm for September so there was no need for the heating or the fire. From the state of things it looked as if the evening had been a while in the planning. His T-shirt and jeans were gone and he'd changed his entire apparel. He was now wearing a black dinner jacket, crisp white shirt and a chequered tie. I stopped in my tracks and he looked up at me in the doorway. A hungry smile spread across his lips and he uttered one word: "Wow!" I grinned and approached. "Not too shabby yourself. Are we going out?" As I stepped into his space ready for some heavy petting he commanded me to stop. "Where's the money?" I handed the rolled up currency over to him, which he unfurled, smoothed a little and folded in two. He then reached for me, slid the hem of my dress ever so slowly up my thigh at one side until the top of the hold-up was visible against the backdrop of my creamy thigh and slid the money behind the band. It felt cold next to my leg. "That's yours to keep. You've earned it already," he breathed. "You look stunning." I shivered at the compliment and beamed, glad to have pleased him. Part of my psyche yearned approval and it was deeply satisfying to receive it, even if he was biased. There was no time for further reflection, though. Adam reached into his trouser pocket, retrieved his wallet and counted out another twenty. He folded it just like the other one, pushed the hem of my dress up the other leg and tucked the cash behind the band of the opposite hold-up. "Twenty says you're to go to the stereo and choose some pieces of music; two minimum. Turn it up then come back here." He paused and looked up at me. "I want a lap dance." My eyes widened and I started to protest. "What?! I don't even know what a lap dance is! How can I do something I've nev..." Adam held up his hand to silence me. "I don't want to hear it. I've never had a lap dance before either so I have no idea what to expect. You have carte blanche to create your own version and tease me with it. I told you I wanted to see your sexy side and I meant it. I've paid and expect a good return on my investment." I stood there open-mouthed. So this was his game. To treat me like a paid-for service. The idea caught in my mind as I imagined him using me later for his pleasure, hot bodies sliding against one another, him panting heavily in my ear, biting the lobe gently as we prepared to make love. Before I had time to take the scene further in my head, Adam continued. "If you really are stuck, I've printed some tips I found on a web site. They're in front of the stereo." I exhaled heavily despite not realising I'd been holding my breath. I stared at him for a few seconds longer hoping he was going to break into a grin and say he was kidding. No such luck. His hazel eyes were unwavering, watching me consider the proposal. He knew I could call it off and he'd simply back down; that was the nature of our relationship: open and honest, nothing forced. But his expectation would be for me to accept the challenge and see it through. Part of me was surprised he'd asked. I knew it was a fantasy of his but for some reason never thought he'd deem me the type of girl to deliver it. I didn't dance as a rule, and hadn't enough alcohol in me to even consider it a dare. But I felt inexplicably flushed; I guessed partly from the anticipation of what Adam had requested and partly excitement from dressing up for him. I looked across at my wine glass on the mantelpiece, the crystal sparkling in the candlelight, wondering if Dutch courage was the missing ingredient. For a moment I considered the situation he had created; him resembling a well-dressed movie star and me his date, with money stuffed into my hold-ups like some cheap hooker. Was I ready for this; to be his harlot for the night? A voice inside me -- probably fuelled by the earlier wine -- said yes and made me strut decisively across the room to the fireplace, directly past his field of vision. The candlelight cast soft distorted shadows of me on the far wall and his gaze took in the sight as I reached out to lift the wine glass he had refilled, bringing it to my deep ruby lips. I sipped and felt the tartness of the tannin in my cheeks and long warmth of the red as it slid down my throat. It was difficult to beat the Australian Shiraz. Over the rim of the glass I looked at him sat in the chair, waiting patiently for me. Would I live up to his expectations or make a fool of myself? There was only one way to find out. With steely determination to do it right I replaced the glass and heel-toe, heel-toed my way past him to the stereo with as much grace as I could muster in the shoes; the thin spikes echoing off the laminate floor in the room. Normally so familiar, tonight the shoes felt borrowed. In front of the stereo, as Adam had claimed, was a piece of paper which I skim-read. It listed seven lap dancing tips that didn't sound as difficult as I'd feared, truth be told. I went through each in my head, imagining trying them out, picturing the positions I'd have to put myself in to make them happen. Perhaps this wasn't so daunting after all. I put the paper to one side and browsed our music collection by track, clicking and scrolling, discarding songs as I went: too fast, too slow, wrong mood, wrong lyrics. I hadn't even reached the 'C' section when two records stood out, both close to one another. The titles both began with 'B' and the artists both an 'A'. Belle and Adam. Was it a sign? I envisioned them playing; me dancing in time to the beats as he sat there desperate to touch me but unable to do so. A slow smile grew across my lips. Yes. They were the ones. I cued both tracks up and rotated the volume dial. The neighbours were going to have to just deal with it. My heart fluttered as I thought of what I was about to do for the next ten minutes. If a lap dance was what he wanted, a lap dance was what he'd get. With a coolness I didn't know existed in me I slowly paraded back to the centre of the room and stood a couple of feet away from Adam, facing him. Our eyes locked. Tip number one had said I should always maintain eye contact as much as possible. Tip two I was about to try for the first time in my life. I lifted my arm and pointed it straight over his head at the stereo. I fingered the play button on the remote control for a few seconds letting him wonder what was going through my mind, then pressed and threw the remote behind me into the armchair. I caught the rhythm of the 8 count-in by gently nodding my head and then began to fling my hair from side to side as AC/DC's 'Back In Black' spewed from the speakers. I raised my arm and pointed at him, dropping my chin to give my best "I want you" face, and started to gyrate my hips in time to the music. Slightly awkward and self-conscious at first, after a few bars and seeing the look of amazement and adulation on Adam's face I loosened up. By the time the lyrics kicked in I was well and truly into the swing of things. My confidence grew and my gyrations became more overt; it seemed no action was too sensational. I slowly rotated to show him my backside, watching him watch me the whole time. It was such a rush to see his eyes widen as I momentarily stopped wiggling and leaned forward, sliding my hands down my lithe legs. The hem of my dress rode above the band of the hold-ups just revealing enough thigh to tease. I broke eye contact and straightened one leg while bending the other then switched, rocking from side to side in time to Brian Johnson's raspy vocals. I knew the sight of the very tops of my hold-ups and maybe the tiniest hint of velvety flesh above as my short dress billowed would make Adam hot. As the chorus began I stopped moving, held onto my left leg with both hands and gradually stood, sliding my hands and smoothing my hold-up with delicate fingers. With my back arched I looked over my shoulder at Adam who was grinning widely. Time for tip number 3. Twisting my upper body in his direction I raised my arm again to point at him and then swatted my backside. He arched his brows, eyes sparkling at his once shy girlfriend. Was there a visible bulge forming in his trousers? I liked to imagine so. Perhaps I should make sure. I picked up the beat again and completed my full circle of gyrations to end up standing and facing Adam. I strutted forward right to him so our knees were almost touching and bent forward, showing him my ample cleavage. The Tiffany chain hung between us and I placed one hand on each of his knees, spreading them wide. Using his legs to support my weight I leaned forward further, sliding my breasts up his neatly buttoned shirt and into his face. My nipples were straining through the fabric of both my bra and dress as they grazed his face and I backed off, keeping my hands resting on his knees. He had the scent and I'd teased him as tip number four had suggested. It seemed to have the desired effect: he looked up from deep within my cleavage and we gazed into each other's eyes. The passion was welling up inside me and I had to fight the urge to kiss him. To take the heat off -- at least off me -- I released his knees and began to do the gyrating and slow turn combo right there between his legs, just inches from hands that I knew were aching to grab me. I wiggled my curvy bottom towards him and replaced my hands on his knees to take my weight. Looking over my shoulder down at him I caught him gazing at my rear and began to swish my way lower in time to the relentless beat, the lyrics of which were no longer registering in my mind. It was just me, the beat, and Adam. Dropping to within an inch of his lap I ground further; left, right, left, right until I was brushing the top of his trousers with my dress. A little further pressure confirmed he was indeed sporting a hard on: I felt it pushing up towards me, desperate for freedom, desperate for my soft, warm, velvety home, but being denied by the clothes we both wore. His obvious arousal drove me onwards as I made slow, rhythmic circles in his lap. I began to rise until I could support my weight fully on my feet, continuing to sway to the music. Over my shoulder I made sure he was looking up at me and gave him another smouldering gaze then ran my hands down my sides, tracing the shape of my body from hips to thighs. I caught the hem of my dress and raised it over my gyrating backside causing him to tear his eyes from mine and cast his roving gaze southward. The expression on his face confirmed he'd noticed the tiny scrap of material that barely covered my tight buttocks. I saw his hands flinch but, to his credit, he kept them by his side as I let the dress slip back down to cover me. It was exhilarating to hold this much command over him, and the butterflies fluttered their wings in approval. Adam looked up with imploring eyes. He wanted more. My eyes promised more; just not yet. I was becoming horny on this power trip and felt my pussy moistening. I'd never imagined it could be so alluring to make somebody want me so badly. I spent all day in the office subtly using my womanly charms to get what I wanted in the male-dominated IT world, but never had it occurred to me that the things I did naturally in the workplace could be transferred, magnified and used as a tool to drive my man wild. Yet here was the proof. Twenty Says Gradually, using small sexy circles, I turned to face him, stepped back a little and closed his knees. I slid my hands very slowly up his thighs, feeling the muscles clenching beneath the thin material. As my hands neared his hips I stepped forward and straddled him, grinding myself into his lap as the final chorus played out. I swished my hair in his face, letting him breathe my strategically placed scent, then drew my fingers gingerly up his sides, over his shoulders and cupped his face. Rocking in his lap to the beat I could see in his eyes that he longed to touch me; to run his hands up my body, grab my breasts and knead the soft flesh. I felt so powerful; so damn womanly. There was no stopping me now: I wanted to make him squirm. To tease him further I guided his face to my cleavage and eased myself forward so I could feel his hot breath on my skin then arched my back and stood, pushing away from him and stepping out of his personal space. Adam's disappointment was plain but short-lived. I did one further sensual 360, keeping my eyes locked on his as long as possible. I tugged at the belt of the dress and it came free. As the outro began to fade I dropped my hands to my sides, grabbed the hem of my dress again and slowly lifted. Inch by inch I raised my dress, uncovering first the tops of my hold-ups, then my impossibly small panties tied in neat bows at my sides. My belly was next, gyrating sexily to the dying music, then I revealed my encased 36Cs to his waiting stare. By the time the track had ended I had my arms above my head and was dressed only in lingerie. I threw the dress at him and it landed in his lap. He felt its warmth for a second then tossed it aside, not knowing what to expect next. I of course knew what was coming: one of my favourite songs of all time. Slower than AC/DC, more sensual somehow. And sung by a woman. The unmistakable chugging of 'Black Velvet' by Alannah Myles filled the room and I quickly found the rhythm, beginning the gyrations that were already becoming second nature. As I swayed I turned, circling my bottom alluringly in his direction, maintaining as much eye contact as I could. Without the dress it was easier to move and I'm sure looked a hell of a sight sexier judging by the tent effect in Adam's crotch. I moistened some more and was sure I'd soon be leaving a damp spot on the material between my shapely legs. I hoped he would notice. Once I was facing Adam again I heel-toed my way over and bent in front of him, the top half of my breasts spilling out of the bra into his face. Spreading his knees with my hands I moved in closer and brought my arms up and beyond him to rest on the back of the chair. With my back arched I leant forward and again pressed my breasts to his face. He breathed in deeply, devouring my scent and I rocked from side to side, swinging my soft flesh against his nose. He moaned in appreciation. Tip number five was a hit! Raising one leg and rubbing the sheer material against his thigh I brought my knee forward and pressed it into his groin. I felt him twitch beneath me and he shifted in the seat to try and increase the pressure against his raging manhood. Before he had time to get comfortable I removed my knee and slowly began to descend, dragging my breasts over his shirt and tie. All the while I trailed my fingernails down his body, he was staring into my eyes with a fire I'd never seen. Maintaining this intense eye contact I came to rest kneeling on the floor facing his straining prick. As I demurely shot him another fiery come-on I thought he was going to rip his clothes off, fling me to the ground and sink his cock into me, taking me with abandon there on the rug. Part of me wished he would. Getting hold of my thoughts before they ran away with me, I put my hands on his knees, brought my bottom up and ever so slowly stood, making sure he caught an eyeful of cleavage. As Alannah brought the first chorus to a close I flicked my hair up into his face and stood back. If I hadn't been so turned on I might have laughed at the expression on his face. His mouth was agape and he was staring doe-eyed at my show, not quite knowing what to look at next. I decided to direct his attention for the second verse. I purposefully strode to the mantelpiece where my glass of red wine rested and took a swig without swallowing. Swaying and gyrating back towards him I faced away and took delight in bending low, running my hands up and down my silky legs before repeating the bottom spank move from earlier. This time my hand made a reassuring crack that fuelled his imagination. While he was thinking about that I slowly righted myself and turned to face him, trying as best I could to keep to the rhythm. I felt the wet spot form for definite. As verse two began to ramp towards the chorus I swished my hair about in time to the riff and stepped towards him. I came to stand once again between his parted thighs, right up against the chair, bent and lifted his chin with my index finger. I brought my mouth to his and crushed our lips together in a sensual kiss. His mouth opened but he wasn't expecting the wine. It spilled between us, dribbling down our chins. He caught some of it in his mouth as I forced my tongue against his. Wine flowed between us, running down his smoothly shaven features and dripping red onto the surface of my creamy breasts, trickling between them to soak into the bra. Against every fibre of will in my body I abruptly broke the kiss and took a half step back. I trailed my finger up to his mouth and let him suck the wine from it as I picked up the gyrations, culminating in me rotating so my bottom was towards him. I moved it in slow circles under his mesmerised stare. Lowering myself once again fully into his lap and using his knees for support I ground my backside into his groin. He was so hard and I was wet; a perfect combination. I longed to abandon the dance, unbuckle his trousers, guide his prick past my tiny panties and ride him to within an inch of coming, then take him in my mouth, feeling his steely length against the back of my throat as I swirled my tongue around him, sucking until he bucked his hips into my face and his hot load fired into me. Keeping his stare for any length of time was impossible as he kept looking down to watch the way my tiny panties alternately covered then revealed the valley between my firm cheeks. He was only male after all. To counter this I sprawled back against him, rubbing myself against his shirt and draping my arm up to stroke the back of his head. I rested my head on his shoulder and brought my mouth to his ear, whispering hoarsely, "I want you inside me." I felt his cock twitch beneath me and decided to push further with my words. "Take me, Adam. Here. Now. Fill me with your hot come." I trailed my other arm up around his neck as I continued to grind. "Thrust your hard cock into my pussy, over and over. I'm so wet for you." It wasn't a lie. My arousal was steadily increasing and I could feel myself becoming wetter by the minute. "Look what you've created: I'm your plaything tonight. You can do anything you want to me. Anything at all." Slithering down from him, I sat on the floor, turned and used his knees to haul myself up. I placed my mouth a few millimetres above the fabric of his trousers and poked my tongue out, pressing against the tip of his hidden manhood. I swirled my tongue a little then stood fully and backed away from him as the song faded. Adam just grinned and applauded. "Oh wow, B. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Or stopping himself from ejaculating in his underwear. "Come closer." I shuffled towards him coyly, expecting him to grab me and make love to me where he sat, bouncing me up and down on his rock hard cock as we wrapped our arms around each other. Yet again I was proved wrong. He fished into his pocket and withdrew his wallet retrieving yet another twenty. Folding it meticulously he slid it behind the band of my left hold-up along with the other note. "Twenty says you are to sit in the armchair and masturbate for me. I want to watch you come. Keep your clothes on." I didn't have a reason to argue: this was his show. Truthfully I was already pretty well aroused from the lap dance and could do with the release. Turning on my heels I stepped purposefully towards the armchair opposite him. Instead of sitting straight down as he probably expected, I climbed on it, kneeling on the large cushion, legs together, resting my arms on the upright back. I wiggled my backside at him from across the room and looked over my shoulder to see him smiling, pleased with my newfound performance traits. I never imagined it would be so arousing to act this way; although reasonably comfortable with my body -- save for the odd place where I could lose a few pounds -- I wasn't used to flaunting it so overtly. The biggest turn-on was that Adam didn't seem to notice any of the flaws I felt in myself. He was focused solely on me and my display; and it made me feel like a Goddess. Reaching behind me I ran my fingers from my thighs up over the flesh of my rear. The panties didn't conceal much, making it easy to spank my bottom and watch him move his hands to his lap, rubbing his prick through his trousers as the echoes of my slaps bounced around the room. The light from the candles transmitted my actions partly to the far wall and partly onto the surface of the long bay window curtains. Anyone walking by would be treated to quite a shadow dance. I parted my knees and moved my hand between my legs to cover my minuscule underwear. I felt wetness against my palm and gently slapped my pussy for his pleasure before sliding my hand beneath the flimsy material. I jumped a little at the touch. Lips slick with my juices I slithered my palm against the bare skin and sighed as my hand pressed my sensitive clitoris. Losing myself in the moment I ground my palm hard beneath the underwear, panting a little, still watching Adam over my shoulder through half-closed eyes. The power I had over my man was incredibly arousing, especially given that he hadn't seen anything of me yet. What would he do when he saw how wet I was? Most days the answer would be obvious -- he would lick me to a shattering orgasm then pound his rock hard cock inside me until he came. Tonight, however, all bets were off. That didn't stop me imagining him stepping up behind me, pulling my underwear aside and sliding his hard prick into my wet box. I could almost feel his hands on my hips as he pistoned in and out, slowly at first and becoming faster with each stroke. As I moved my palm in circles over my clit I allowed a finger to slide inside myself at every opportunity. Despite yearning to insert more I restricted myself to only pushing in as far as the first knuckle to keep the show going for longer. Being so out of character -- essentially a tease -- felt amazing; restraining myself, knowing what it would do to Adam. The heat was building inside me as I brought myself closer to orgasm for him. I wasn't an exhibitionist -- or at least didn't think so until tonight. Perhaps it had always been in me and I'd been repressing it, needing the right atmosphere and a nudge to launch the real me: Belle 2.0! I became aware of my heavy breathing and decided to step it up a gear for Adam. I pulled my slick hand from my panties and turned over, perching myself on the edge of the armchair cushion, spreading my legs wide apart as far as I could stretch them. My heels and sheer, nylon-encased legs sparkled in the light from the dim lamp. I stretched out my hand towards Adam, palm facing him so the flickering candlelight could catch the wetness, offering a glimpse of what he was currently missing -- or would soon have. I then brought my hand back towards my face, took a theatrical sniff, closed my eyes and ran my tongue very slowly up my palm. The taste of my arousal was intoxicating; the familiar mixture of sweet and musk on my hands reminding me of nights alone, nights with Adam, and nights without him; often spent listening intently to other couples making love in adjacent hotel bedrooms. As I opened my eyes I noticed my brazen act had been received loud and clear by my watcher. He was openly rubbing his crotch through his trousers and I probably couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind at that moment. Returning my hand to my panties I massaged the whole area slowly, sensuously and then slid my fingers beneath the sheer material that separated me from his fantasy. Once again I slid a finger inside myself; deeper this time. I gasped as it probed my depths and then vacated, allowing my lips momentary respite until my digit once again sought sanctuary inside. Over and over I probed and withdrew; each time eliciting a breathy gasp from my mouth; ruby red lips apart and eyes almost shut. I could hear the material of Adam's trousers shuffling as he stroked his entire cock. The thought of his self-imposed restraint, dying to unzip his trousers and fill me as I sat spread-eagled for his pleasure, drove me onwards. I fell back against the rear cushion of the armchair so I had better access to my pussy and sawed my finger in and out of my glistening tunnel. With my other hand I reached up for my chest and began to massage one of my ample breasts. It would be impossible for Adam to ignore the upturned nipple beneath the lace fabric, jutting from me as I grabbed handfuls of my flesh and tweaked my tip. A semi-circle of areola protruded above the C cup as my ministrations became more extreme but I kept my end of the bargain and remained clothed throughout. I switched to the other breast and it responded like its twin sister; pink nub hardening and poking out of the confines of the bra. All the while, I continued to rub my mound and thrust my finger into my body. Soon one wasn't enough and I added a second digit, bucking hard against my hand. Every so often I would yank my fingers from my core and trail them up my belly to leave a wet line of juice, then walk them up my chin to my mouth and lewdly suck my secretions from them. I tasted so good and knew Adam longed to sample me too. My hand would then slide down over my breast, glide over my soft, curvaceous hips and delve beneath my panties to resume dipping inside my hairless snatch. Across the room I could hear Adam enjoying my show, which spurred me on. He'd turned me into such a hussy! Dressing like a whore, lap dancing, showing myself off like this purely for his sexual entertainment. I should be disgusted with my behaviour but I was so turned on, any rational thoughts were sidelined as my mind raced and the twisted fantasies of what he would do to me later took over. My breathing was becoming ragged and in the distance I was aware of someone moaning in pleasure in time to my actions -- perhaps it was me; I didn't care any more. All that existed were the glimpses of Adam I caught on the occasion I opened my eyes, and my hands roaming and probing my erogenous zones. As I shut my eyes tightly I imagined the hands groping me belonged to other people and the rhythmic filling and emptying of my pussy was a man's hard cock driving into me. The faces of the men around me were indiscernible as they used my body as their private theme park; sucking, twisting, licking, biting and thrusting with tongues, fingers and cocks. They were stuffing money into my hold-ups, paying for the privilege of my youthful body and I was their willing slut. Slut. The word whirled in my mind. I was such a slut -- a slattern as they'd have called me in Victorian times -- for having these thoughts and behaving this way. What would my parents think of their little girl dreaming of being ravaged by a group of men, used and abused for their pleasure? A tangle of bodies, hot, horny, and panting, with me the centrepiece. I was convinced normal people didn't think about such things. Only sluts did. So tonight I was a dirty slut. And I loved it. I imagined the men building up towards release, slamming inside me, fucking my mouth and aching pussy hard, biting and squeezing my fleshy tits, making me cry out for more. Then as the sensations of using my taut body for their sexual indulgence overpowered the men, they started to come all over and inside me, shooting their sticky loads and groaning with lurid satisfaction. And I felt the fire in my belly begin to spread. My fingers ploughed into my soaking pussy and my other hand yanked my tits and pulled on each distended nipple through the fabric of my bra as I felt my orgasm crash through me. I bucked off the armchair and stayed rigid in that position, gasping loudly and repeatedly until the first wave of spasms began to die down. My skin was alight with the familiar yet distant glow of sexual release. My toes curled and uncurled inside my black shoes, the muscles in my calves and thighs tightening and releasing in sympathy. I was powerless in the grip of the orgasmic current flooding my limbs. There was something magical about bringing myself over the edge like this. While it was equally wonderful to have Adam treat me to a tongue bath, it tended to be on his timetable and his terms. This way I had control of my thoughts and the result usually went beyond physical stimulation, entering the metaphysical plane where my mind and body united, resonating with one another towards the common goal of heightened arousal and all-consuming release. If there was a greater feeling anywhere in the universe I had yet to find it. As I gradually lowered myself to the chair again, the fluttering sensations of the aftercome rippled through me. I could feel my pussy lips gently gripping and releasing my fingers, the frequency slowing as the fantasy abated and the silence of the room returned. I wasn't sure how long I stayed like that, fingers still buried inside me, feeling the warmth ebbing and the glow fading. When I opened my eyes, the first thing that came into focus was Adam smiling down at me. He looked angelic. And contented. I judged I had done well and smiled weakly, unable to speak. "That was incredible, B," he confirmed. "You like that?" I found my voice. "Probably better than you," I breathed. "Look what you've turned me into!" "I'm not finished yet," he said impishly. He bent to his knees between my parted thighs and gradually lowered his head to my groin. I instinctively pulled my fingers from inside me and he grabbed my wrist, directing the sticky digits to his mouth. He paused and smelled them deeply before running his tongue over their length and gently suckling them, cleaning the juices. Then he bent further and placed a wet kiss on my sodden excuse for panties and sat back, satisfied. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved his wallet once more. I waited patiently for the next instruction, accustomed to my role in his world. For now I was spent, so I would let him have his fun with me. He unfurled yet another twenty and meticulously folded it, sliding it next to the others in the band of my hold-ups, snapping it against my thigh. "Twenty says you will now sit on my face. You can do anything you want to me; use my face, mouth, tongue, other objects, anything for your own pleasure. The only rule is you are not to dismount until you have come on my face at least once. I want to taste you directly." I thought about this latest mission for a few seconds. It sounded so dirty, yet somehow deeply alluring. But I had doubts I could do it. "How can I possibly come again after that?" "You'll find a way. You always do." It was true to an extent. Although once was enough, he knew I could come again in a relatively short space of time if he pushed the right buttons. Clearly he was playing to my strengths to fulfil his own desires. I considered the proposal a little longer. "Can I take my clothes off?" Twenty Says "If you wish, yes. But the hold-ups and heels stay on." "OK. I'll do my best." He smiled warmly. "I know." I beamed back at him and watched as he prepared. The chair was shifted out of the way and the sheepskin rug moved to the centre of the room. Adam then lay flat on his back and I assumed it was my turn to perform once more. Hauling myself from the armchair with as much grace as I could muster, I took a shaky step towards him then straddled his legs and continued walking slowly until he was staring straight up my long legs. Towering in lingerie above my boyfriend with him ogling my panties from a few feet below was more erotic than I had initially thought. I figured it might be something that only he'd get pleasure from, but there was something about being the dominatrix and him the submissive that caused the breath to catch in my throat. Did Adam know me better than I knew myself or was I merely becoming caught up in the fantasy? It was hard to tell. I swayed gently from side to side, rocking from one leg to the other, and looked down at him, prone below me, waiting eagerly for his now slutty girlfriend to ride his face. Perhaps he'd enjoy a little role reversal while he was down there. "You want this?" I asked as nastily as I could, sliding my hand over my glistening panties. He nodded, fast. "You want this pussy in your face? Want me to smother you with my panties? Force you to lick me until I come all over you?" Adam nodded again, the excitement obvious. I milked the situation by swooping my hips low -- as if dancing The Twist -- within inches of his face and then stood again. "You sure you want me? I could find some other slave to eat my pussy if you're not up to the job. You think you're man enough to make me come on your tongue? Think you have what it takes to please me? To bring me off?" He nodded enthusiastically a third time. "Are you mute? Address me properly!" "Sorry Mistress Belle," he blurted. "I am up to the job of licking you. I shall assure your orgasm if you give me the opportunity." I smiled. Mistress Belle had a nice ring to it. "That's better. Then I shall give you a chance to prove your worth. Let's see what you're made of." I sank to my knees and hovered above him, teasing him by swishing my wet mound close and then backing away. To be fair it wasn't just him I was teasing. The anticipation was sending shivers down my spine as I thought about the dirty act upon which we were about to embark. I stopped moving, poised motionless; waiting. Then, without warning, dropped onto his face and ground my pussy against his mouth. His nose pressed against my clit and I rotated my hips to ensure the contact I desired, shoving forward, rocking back and forth on his mouth and nose, feeling his hot breath on my wet sex through the thin material. My lower legs pinned his arms to the floor so he had no choice but to please me with his face. It seemed so wicked to be using someone in this degrading manner for my own gratification. Initially I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't just me I was pleasing. But once the tingling and warmth began to take hold in my body I really started revelling in the role and didn't give it any further analysis; just enjoyed the ride. Adam was masterful at using his tongue, and seemed to enjoy it most when I completely smothered his face to the point he could hardly breathe. With my panty-covered lips pressed tightly against his mouth and my clit buried into his nose, if I rocked forward it cut off his air supply momentarily and he fought hard against me. At that instant his tongue would work magic; the combination of that and the stimulation to my yearning clitoris sent shockwaves between my thighs. And then I'd back off to give him a few seconds to recover before attacking again. With the heat welling up in me I craved more contact and that meant losing my underwear. I slid from his face and straddled his chest so he could see me. I considered just sliding the material to one side, then thought better of it. Perhaps my boyfriend slave would prefer a personal touch; after all he was paying for me. I slid my hands down the side of my body and brought them to rest on my full hips. Tantalisingly slowly I pulled the left drawstring and let the cords dangle from my thigh, resting on his shirt. I repeated the action with the right string. The flap of fabric fell to his chest at the front revealing my shaved slit to his hungry gaze. The tiny runway of hair above my clit was damp from perspiration and a little of my come, guiding the way to my slick lips. I grabbed the panty cords and pulled forward, sliding the material from between us, then folded the garment neatly into a square with the crotch facing out. I pressed them to his nose and he inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering in ecstasy. When I deemed he'd had enough, I took the panties away sharply and tucked them into the band of my hold-ups. "You can keep these later. Now I want you to make me come." With that I slid forward again and smothered him with my shaved pussy. The touch of his tongue and nose against my naked cunt was electric. I bucked against him as he slid his tongue deep inside my wanton snatch for the first time of the evening. If I tasted even half as good as my juicy slit looked in the soft light I knew that Adam would be having the time of his life underneath me. Who was I kidding; I knew how I tasted. Creamy, tangy, with a hint of musk wrapped up in a sweet nectar. A heady mixture of lust, desire and promise. And I was having the time of my life too. I squeezed my thighs together, trapping his tongue in my folds and crushed myself forward into his nose. My clitoris sent sparks back and forth along the length of my slit. I had to be touched more. "Squeeze my tits," I commanded, releasing his arms from beneath my shins. Adam did as he was told while I rode his face. His big hands caressed and rolled the pale flesh of my breasts through the bra as I struggled behind me with the clasp. Eventually the harness fell from my shoulders and dropped to the floor behind Adam's head as he momentarily let go and then returned to my bare chest. He pinched and rolled my nipples exactly as he knew I adored, alternating his grip on each breast and listening to my wails of pleasure. My flesh spilled from his hands and he kneaded it in time to my rocking on his face, his tongue thrusting insistently up into my soaking pussy. I leaned forward and curled my fingers around the edges of the fluffy rug beneath us. My breasts hung above Adam's head and his hands followed my lead, continuing to squeeze, pinch and tweak my erect nipples and exposed flesh. The combination of tonguing and breast stroke was taking its toll on my insides. That familiar feeling of an impending orgasm started to rumble in my groin, warning the rest of my body to baton down the hatches and prepare for the waves to hit shore. God he was good. To maximise my pleasure I wanted Adam's tongue on my clit. Needed it. I bucked south, feeling momentarily empty as his tongue slithered from my sopping channel. Rolling my hips forward, his long, talented tongue struck home and I groaned loudly. He flicked circles around my sensitive nub, and ran his tongue up and down the wet flesh either side of the hood, which was pulled back exposing the pink treasure beneath. His expert lapping at and around my centre built the tension to an almost unbearable height. I craved release and begged him to lick harder, and to pull my nipples. If his mouth hadn't been occupied I'd have asked him to bite my nipples too; it drives me wild to have teeth grazing the tips of my jutting mounds. I usually plead him to do that while I ride his lap, his cock driving wildly up inside my spasming cunt. The pressure on my clit increased as Adam worked his tongue feverishly against me. Stroke after deliciously lewd stroke set fireworks off between my thighs and I crushed myself into his face, stopping suddenly amid a wail of satisfaction. The heat coursed my body and I could only shake as it spread. Every nerve ending tingled and I batted his hands away from my breasts. Sitting upright on his face I bounced slowly yet forcefully against him as I tipped my head back, moaning and panting heavily into the room, breasts heaving, neck flushed. My pussy walls fluttered rhythmically to the beat of my body's release, leaking juice onto Adam's chin. And then it became too much to have him there so I rose sharply from him, leaving my sex dangling an inch from his mouth, saliva and thin strings of my sap still joining us. From my very centre I could feel wetness surging into my pussy and drizzling down the inside of my pulsing tunnel, out onto my bare lips. It was impossible to trace the source. That was one of the mysteries of my womanhood; come just seemed to appear from somewhere deep inside me during orgasm. Time and again I had sought its origin so I might capture the precise mechanism and understand what drove me. But, as always, no sooner had the thought formed, the analytical part of my brain that tried to focus on the source was swamped by the emotional side of my being, as chemistry, physics, biology and spirituality fused. The alliance took me on a whirlwind journey into myself and out the other side; synapses forming connections that rocketed me past myriad images. Shapes, colours and sounds that should have been impossible to comprehend were rendered with vivid clarity in each split second before giving way to the next. And everything made sense, filling me with a profound fervour and sense of connectedness. It was then I realised I was smiling, breaking into soft, panting laughter as the waves began to lessen while the intense high continued. I was so fortunate to have such a man willing to service me. So far he had taken nothing and given everything. Maybe he saw it as taking everything. I was sure the balance had to shift at some point, but I really didn't know what to expect next, if anything. The continual surprises of the evening had blown the doors off any preconceptions I may have had. For all I knew he might have already come in his underwear; I'd witnessed how excited he became when licking me out on other nights. If I was being truthful I was tired and more than content to curl up in bed with him right then; I doubt I could manage another orgasm like the ones I'd experienced so far. Having said that, in the past Adam had demonstrated a knack for what I considered the sexually impossible, revving me up time after time when I thought there could be no more energy inside me, let alone an orgasm. While my thoughts freewheeled to times gone by and my nerve endings began to return to normal I became aware of Adam wriggling beneath me. I rose off him further and he brought his wallet out once more. Trepidation was mixed with amazement as I wondered what he could possibly have planned next. It had to be sex. If he hadn't already come, he would need to shoot his load inside me. And despite my tiredness I had to admit the idea of a lazy screw to round things off appealed; he couldn't last long after all the stimulation of the evening anyway. He deliberately counted out another twenty, folded it and placed it with the other notes and my panties in the top of my hold-up. "I need to fuck you," he said simply. My mind cart wheeled. At last! Then another note slid into the band on the other leg. "In your arse." I looked down at him, shocked. "No way!" He put another twenty in my hold-ups. "Yes way." "No. Wait. You're kidding, right?" He put another twenty in. "Twenty says not. The money's yours to keep." I stared at him. He was serious. While I enjoyed anal play during sex and adored having my bottom licked and stroked, we'd never tried anal sex. We'd talked about it but frankly the idea scared me a little. For every account I'd read about or heard from friends of it being amazing I'd heard two or three that said it was painful. I was into pleasure not pain. "I... I don't know. I've heard it hurts and I think..." Adam held up his hand to silence me again. He took out the remaining notes from his wallet and folded them into my hold-ups, slowly and with purpose. "I'm not paying you 200 to think. I'm paying 200 to fuck you in the arse. I've given you all you wanted and you've shown me how much of a whore you are all evening, so continue to prove it. Get on all fours. Now." I still couldn't believe it. But he had a point. If he'd said at the start of the evening that I'd have turned from my usual self into a lap-dancing, domineering exhibitionist I'd have laughed and told him to dream on. Now he was proposing to add one final accolade to that list: anal bitch. What could I do? How could I say I wouldn't enjoy it without trying it? I had to give him what he wanted or I'd be nothing more than a hypocrite. Fixing him with a hard stare, I sighed slowly. "OK, but promise you'll go easy." "I promise." I swung my leg over him and stood a little unsteadily. Figuring a little wine would help with what was to come, I chugged the remainder of the red as Adam climbed up from the rug, still dressed in his slightly crumpled dinner jacket, his chin shiny with my tasty secretions. Replacing the wine glass on the mantelpiece I stared at him, imploring him to call off this final act. He just pointed to the floor and I knew negotiation was useless. I was bought and paid for. With trepidation I made my way to the rug, faced away from him, dropped to my knees and bent at the waist, resting my head on my forearms. My naked upturned bottom nestled atop sheer hold-ups stuffed with money must have looked a perfect target to Adam's ravenous stare. I was so nervous crouched there waiting for the inevitable cock in my rear. I tried to recall what my NLP tutor had said about fear and nerves being chemically the same release of adrenaline as excitement; it was merely the mental attachment associated with the act that determined whether we feared or revelled in it. I tried to suppress any negative thoughts I had about sodomy and focus on the prior times we'd enjoyed fooling around with my rear. A touch to the ring of muscle jolted me from my reverie. I looked back. Adam had his face there: he was such a filthy animal. He licked again and the fear melted a little. It did feel so good to be licked between my cheeks. Over and over he swabbed his tongue across the entrance to my puckered passage, teasing the nerve endings and sending shivers up my spine. I moaned appreciatively. Adam spoke and I could tell by the cracks in his voice that he was in heaven. "You have such a beautiful bottom." "I know." The wine was helping, and it wouldn't be long before the slug I had just consumed helped further. The unrelenting attack of his tongue on and around my anus and upturned cheeks served to relax me further. Occasionally he'd let his tongue slip south and drive inside my wet pussy, slathering my juices over the entire area, then return to licking my derriere. This back and forth between my pussy and arse was incredibly arousing as he prepared my virgin backside for his cock. Although I didn't believe it possible I began to feel the stirrings of excitement once more inside me. I truly was a slut; an anal slut at that. When he pushed his tongue inside my rear and began to repeatedly probe my back passage I experienced further wetness forming in my pussy. It felt so dirty to be used; to be licked in such a taboo part of my body. But equally it felt right and aroused me. Perhaps part of the thrill was the fact it was forbidden, naughty, and nasty. Or maybe I was wired wrong inside; nothing like the other girls, my driving force being base instinct and raw desire which I'd masked for so long. Either way I could feel my anal passage opening up as I relaxed further. Adam knew exactly what he was doing back there, spreading my hot cheeks with his palms and driving his tongue inside me. It was making me so fucking horny. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. He stopped for a second. "Wow, B. the taste of your come and your arse is such a delicious mixture." I just moaned in appreciation as his huge tongue returned to probing me, widening and priming my rear. I wondered if we'd need any additional lubrication or if his saliva, my pussy juice and raw passion alone would be enough. I pushed the thought from my mind: since Adam had planned the whole evening in meticulous detail, there was every chance he'd have some lube nearby if he thought it necessary. His tongue slithered expertly in, out and around my nether hole, occasionally seeking refuge in the familiar wetness of my smooth pussy while his nose pressed firmly against my shaved rosebud. He always inhaled deeply at this point: it was so depraved for him to be aroused by the smell of my bottom but it didn't bother me like it did at the beginning of our relationship. When I accepted it I actually found it to be an incredible turn on and our bond had grown stronger and our sex more diverse with this shared pleasure. I suspected our sex life was about to take another turn tonight. Abruptly, the probing ceased. The emptiness in my rear passage felt suddenly unnatural. Perhaps that was Adam's point; to make me want something back there so badly that I practically craved it. In which case he'd succeeded. Despite every misgiving I had about the act, at that moment I desperately wanted him to fill my backside with his fat cock. I suddenly yearned to know what it would feel like; to continue where his tongue had left off; to have my bottom ripped apart as he sank his length into me; and to be used for his dirty gratification. Behind me I heard him unzip his trousers and I prepared for my anal virginity to be taken, tensing yet trying to relax to ease the inevitable pain. Instead he slammed into my sopping pussy in one stroke. I gasped loudly and wailed in unexpected pleasure. He grabbed my hips and sawed his rock hard dick savagely, completely exiting my distended lips on every stroke and driving his six inches fully home again and again. He had never fucked me this hard all the time we'd been together. It was as if he'd been coiled up in a box with someone gradually winding the key, and they'd just flipped the release catch. I screamed over and over in pleasure as thrust after thrust threatened to split me in two. My sodden pussy was a more than willing conduit to the hormones he was triggering inside me as his unrelenting cock scorched my soaked tunnel. Between shrieks I managed to squeeze some words out: "I thought... you... wanted my... arse?" "Surprise! That's what I wanted you to think." Part of me was relieved to be off the hook, but another part -- the bit that was disappointed when he withdrew his tongue -- had actually geared up for sodomy and was now crying out for the act. Was I really that disgusting that I was prepared to beg for anal, when less than ten minutes earlier I'd dismissed it? As if to answer my unvoiced question, I heard some deep, dark corner of my consciousness ask out loud: "Actually, I... quite want you to... uuhhhh.. fuck me... back there." He gradually slowed to a stop, his cock buried to the hilt in my wet slit. "Seriously?" "Yes, seriously." I looked back at him, meeting his gaze. "Fuck me, Adam. Take my anal virginity. Slide your cock in my tight arse and fuck me until I can't take any more. I promised you could do anything to me and you've paid for it, so take what's yours." He looked stunned but wasn't about to question my request: raw lust had taken over. He withdrew his hard tool from my sopping cunt and pressed the head of his blunt instrument to my backside. I felt the pressure building at the entrance to my anus. The rest of the world fell away as he gradually applied more force and my ring began to widen to accommodate his girth. I focused intently on the sensations his cock produced. Ingress felt so much stranger than egress. The muscle that was so used to being opened from the inside was being widened from the other direction and the signals in my brain told me it was all wrong. But the fire spreading in my bottom told me it was right. Matter over mind. Twenty Says I had never felt as degenerate as I did at that moment; on my knees with a fat cock sliding inside my rear passage millimetre by millimetre. My eyes watered with the combination of uncertainty, discomfort and anticipation. Adam swatted my backside lightly and called me names for being such a dirty bitch who had to be paid to be fucked. I could sense his prick head swelling in the entrance to my rear as the words turned him on. How he kept his orgasm in check I'll never know. The invasion continued and I panted in pleasure, aware of my insides widening in a most unnatural manner. It felt both incredible and disgusting to think of where Adam's cock was heading. I cried out in a little pain and bit my lip as he jerked his hips. Almost immediately there was a satisfying sucking motion as my bottom accepted the inevitable and the wide head of his cock penetrated the inner ring of muscle. He waited for me to become familiar with the sensation of having my arse packed so tightly, our laboured breathing the only sound in the room, then in one thrust slid inside me an inch further. It felt like ten and I cried out. "Slowly!" My mouth was dry, my head was spinning and my bottom ached with the dull acceptance of Adam's manhood in my dark chute. My breathing was ragged as the remainder of the assault took place. Inch by sordid inch I was impaled from behind and I became aware of beads of sweat on my forehead, dripping to the rug as I bit my lip harder and whimpered at Adam's breadth tunnelling into my tight anus. If I was worried earlier what my parents would think of their little girl imagining strangers ravaging her lithe body, they would probably die of shock if they knew how much I was starting to enjoy being at the receiving end of my boyfriend's anal intrusion. I'd begged for it, too, like a cheap, dirty bitch. What could possibly drive a girl to such depths of sexual degradation in the name of guilty pleasure? Did I need counselling? Animalistic desires and chemicals mixed like a home made atom bomb inside me and the prior feelings of pain and depravity gave way to curious enjoyment and deep-seated excitement. The result was that sometime before he was fully inside, the throbbing began to ease somewhat and I grew accustomed to the large object embedded in my bowels. A strange calm enveloped me, like passing the epicentre of a storm, and moments later I developed an uncontrollable urge to take an active role in fucking him. I slid my hips back and forth just a few millimetres at first and the sensations delivered to my thighs and empty pussy were incredible. Every pore and every follicle of my skin crawled with pinpricks of electricity. Renewed wetness surged into my raw cunt and sparks ignited in my brain. I had never felt so deliciously dirty and yet so fulfilled as my motions increased. First an inch, then two, then three slid back and forth inside my rear. On each outward stroke the muscles fought to eject the invader, but I resisted with an inner squeeze, preventing the head from popping out, greedily sucking him back to me. In the opposite direction, as I gently glided my curvaceous bottom towards the base of his prick until I could feel his pubic hairs tickling my damp skin, I moaned deeply and loudly as his huge cock searched for the deepest parts of my body. He always maintained that his six inches was average, but it felt far more than that in my arse. An inch below the meat that was steadily entering and leaving my bottom, my engorged pussy lips hung apart in a vulgar display of wantonness; petals opened by a primal craving that required fulfilment. If a second cock had been on offer I might even have accepted it in my wet, hairless snatch. I was so dirty. I panted in delight and realised at that moment I was beyond emotion and had entered an avenue of raw sexual hunger. The slut within me had been truly unleashed. I became aware of starting to really enjoy myself: happy to be giving in to his carnal desires, and my own. Why hadn't we tried sooner? I couldn't get enough. I begged Adam to fuck my arse. Hard. He didn't need asking twice. His hands sought my hips and held tightly to my curvy rear. The two of us started to build up a faster rhythm, his groin slapping my bottom at one extreme and my ring muscles sucking him back into my nether depths at the other. He progressively increased the speed of his fucking and I started crying out with each inward stroke. His cock felt colossal in my tight, recently deflowered butt. At one point he started to stick so he spat on my arse a few times to add much-needed lubrication, then continued to piston into me, grunting in satisfaction at his whore of a girlfriend. He spanked me roughly a few times for good measure, the echo of his handprint meeting my taut flesh bouncing around the room. My insides were on fire; both my arse and my pussy. Despite not thinking I had it in me, I felt the inferno start deep within my core and quickly spread to every tip of my body. It wasn't going to top the last few orgasms but it felt wonderful all the same. Each slap and powerful thrust of Adam's hard tool in my virgin rear canal magnified the bliss and I found myself yelling his name into the rug, pleading him to fuck his tight, slutty whore. Bucking roughly against him, thrust after deliciously decadent thrust, the money in my hold-ups scratched against his trousers and my thighs. Adam had certainly bought more than he bargained for; his own personal anal fuck toy had begged for his meat and was on the brink of yet another orgasm. I doubted I would ever be the same again and imagined us performing this immoral act in future: in bed; in the shower; in the park; on the back row of the local cinema; on a plane. Bodies banging together in carnal, sinful, sweaty sodomy; the thrill of the depravity knotting my insides. The thoughts were suddenly too much for my body to cope with. My pussy and anal muscles contracted forcefully and rhythmically as I came, groaning into the floor, gripping Adam's hard prick with my body. For his part he started moaning too and unleashed a torrent of sperm into my bottom. Was it my imagination or could I vaguely sense it splashing against my insides as my anal ring milked every drop from his thick, pulsing cock? I wasn't sure. Adam continued to pant and I could hardly breathe as our bodies locked and the endorphins raced, touching every part of me in series. Inside, I was a jumble of interconnected wires firing off messages in all directions as every square millimetre of my body fought for the lion's share of my brain's love drug. It roared through me, igniting pores and nerve endings in rapid succession like a well-orchestrated Mexican wave, eventually focusing on my sensitive clitoris. The little pleasure centre tingled as the heat swirled around it and then burst outward, broadcasting warmth from my tiny pink beacon, flooding my spent body in ever diminishing ripples of ecstasy until the contractions lessened and my external senses switched back on, one by one. My bottom ached, my cheeks felt red where they'd been slapped, and my nipples threatened to pop off the end of my breasts into the rug. But I felt so fucking alive. We stayed fixed in position for a long while, neither of us able to move during our orgasmic releases. The fluttering in my belly and heat coursing my veins flushed my soft skin. I shuddered and breathed deeply, glowing in the flickering candlelight as the grip of Adam's fingers digging into my voluptuous bottom gradually lessened. I was utterly exhausted as we started to come down from our delicious sexual high; the mental torment of the evening's activities equally to blame as the physical exertion. We were both laden with sweat when we eventually began to part. The sensation of his slowly softening cock sliding from my tiny rosebud and the head being forced out of me by a natural anal contraction caused a deep sigh to escape my lips. A dribble of sperm leaked from my distended ring, then I felt nothing but emptiness inside my loins and an intense satisfaction enveloped me as I collapsed to the rug, panting softly. Adam lay down beside me and stroked my long black hair, smiling broadly. "You are truly incredible." "Thank you. I never realised it could feel like that." "Me neither." He covered me with the throw from the sofa and continued to lazily trace his fingers over my body as we lay facing one another. I sighed in contentment. "You do know what you've created tonight don't you?" Adam shook his head. "What's that?" "Someone who won't be able to leave you alone. I think I might have to badger you for anal from now on." His beaming expression told me all I needed to know and I grinned back. "Somehow I knew you wouldn't mind." "So what are you going to do with the money?" "You mean I really can keep it?" "Of course. You've more than earned it." I smiled at that. Wasn't that the truth! "Thanks. Hmmm, maybe I'll book a spa day or two to recover. It might be a bit more expensive than the whore's wages I earned today, though. Have you got any more fantasies you want to pay me for?" He leant in and kissed me lovingly, tenderly and I melted into his arms. When he broke the kiss he spoke. "That's for me to know and you to find out." Such a tease.