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Anonymous

By: Yvie



That boy. He came into my coffee shop one day, pulled a stool out from under the counter, and sat with his chin resting on his hand. Looking at me with wide dark eyes, he smiled slightly. I was busy, distracted. I turned off the steamer but forgot to wipe the handle. In the midst of filling another order, I asked him what he wanted.

I made him a mocha, decorated with whipped cream and thin shavings of chocolate, embarrassing myself by serving him before I finished with the people before him. I sang along with the music playing over the speakers, trying valiantly to ignore him. Sneaking glances out of the corner of my eye, I took in every detail of the boy's appearance. He ate the whipped cream off his drink with a spoon, parting his full pink lips to let the white froth into his mouth, suggestive, almost trashy. He had short bleached hair tipped with bright blue, tan skin, broad and muscular shoulders. 18. Dreamy. Not my type, but somehow so attractive. Whenever I turned my head he was looking at me, his eyes tipping up from the book he was reading, then darting back down, lashes black against his skin. The milk I was steaming overflowed; I startled and spilled it on the front of my shirt. I rolled my eyes at my own lack of concentration. My cheeks burned. He quickly hid a smile.

I went into the bathroom and unbuttoned my shirt, slid it off. As I wet a paper towel, the door opened; the bathroom was a single stall, but I had forgotten to lock it. I looked in the mirror and saw him behind me. Feeling braver, I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry about that.... You seem pretty busy. Do you want help?" His words were inane, but somehow sexy, a transparent ploy. I fell for it, halfway on purpose.

"I've got it. I'm not that dumb."

He took the damp towel out of my hand and set it on the counter. Still behind me, still looking at me in the mirror, he ran his hands down my sides over the ribbed undershirt, his hands coming to rest on my waist. I put my palms on the countertop, arched my back slightly. He had locked the door when he came in. I wasn't on a break, but I deserved one. My jeans-encased ass brushed against the front of his pants. He turned me to face him, his lips near mine, his firm gaze on me. He pulled me closer and kissed me, holding me against him, his soft lips opening to reveal a darting tongue and the lingering taste of chocolate. I caught his lower lip between my teeth, bit him gently, felt his cock begin to harden. His strong hands rubbed my back and grabbed my ass as I slid my own hands under his t-shirt, touching the soft skin of his back and the hard, thick muscles beneath. I broke the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor as I bent my head to take one of his small, brown nipples into my mouth. Feeling the muscles of his chest beneath my cheek, I flicked my tongue over the hard bit of flesh and heard him gasp slightly.

He ran his hands over my upper body and we kissed again, his tongue in my mouth and his fingers on my collarbone, pecs, nipples, stomach. He slid one hand to the small of my back, the other along the zipper of my jeans, feeling the hardness underneath. Suddenly nervous, I took a deep breath and unbuckled his belt, painfully slowly unzipping his black pants, revealing grey boxers with a big bulge in the front. My cock was hard almost to bursting, and all I wanted was to take this boy's meat into my soft, wet mouth. He fumbled with my zipper, unfastening my jeans and sliding them down over my tight round ass to my ankles, gripping my cock with one hand and cupping my balls in the other. He moved his warm hand gently up my shaft, rubbing the head with his thumb as I slid my hand into his fly, freeing from his pants an eight-inch, circumcised cock. I bit my lip at the sight, and my cock got even harder. I couldn't wait: I knelt before him and kissed the head of his beautiful dick, causing him to arch his back, running a hand over my shaved head. 

I opened my mouth and ran my tongue over the head of his cock, sliding the wetness over the smooth, taut skin. Reaching up, I wrapped a hand firmly around the shaft as I accepted the head into my mouth, sucking gently, my tongue busy with the sensitive skin beneath the head. The boy let out a quiet groan. I slid more of his meat along my tongue, relaxed my throat, jacking him off with my hand. The head reached the back of my mouth, and I took a deep breath and slid it down my throat until I had taken almost his entire eight inches into my mouth, tightening my wet lips around the base of his cock, swallowing around the head. His moan was louder this time. 

"That's it, take my cock. You're a good little cocksucker, damn," he said softly as he began to thrust against my face. Guiding him with one hand on his ass, my other hand playing with his balls, I smelled soap and boy-sweat in front of my face. His cock was getting harder. I pulled my head back, began to jack him off as I tongued the head of his dick. He fucked my wet mouth slowly, then faster; I took him down my throat again.

"Fuck, don't stop," he gasped, and I tightened my hand around the base of his cock. "I'm gonna come," he whispered. His hard ass thrust forward and I opened my mouth, his head on my tongue as he began to shoot. The slippery come spurted onto my face, dripped down my throat; I tried to catch every drop in my mouth as he looked down at me. I jacked him off more slowly, getting all the come I could from his hot cock as it began to soften in my hand. He pulled me to my feet and kissed me, tasting his own come.

"You're pretty fucking good at that, boy," he said, a teasing smile on his face as he backed me up against the sink. He took my hard cock in his hand as he groped my butt. I sighed with pleasure at the feeling of his firm hands on my flesh. As he watched my cock and his hand sliding up and down the length, I watched his face, the stubble along his jawline, his downcast eyes. I was so horny from making this hot boy come that I knew it wouldn't be long for me. He gripped my cock firmly, touching it all the right ways, his fingers passing over the head. Leaning over, he bit my earlobe. 

"Come on," he whispered. "I want you to shoot your load all over me." His words made me even hotter and I let out a soft groan. 

I arched forward. "I'm gonna fucking come," I said, clutching the edge of the counter behind me. A dizzying feeling swept through me and exploded into a breathtaking orgasm, my white come shooting onto his hand, his cock, the front of his pants. The wetness slid down my shaft under his hand and made me come even harder, thrusting forward against his hand. I began to breathe again as the orgasm subsided. He rubbed my come across my pubic hair, found the paper towel on the counter, and attempted to wipe off his pants. 

We put our clothes back on, and he wetted a new paper towel, cleaning the milk off the front of my shirt. He kissed me and left the bathroom. I leaned against the counter for a second, trying to catch my breath and appear composed. When I left the bathroom, I suddenly felt shy. Noting that the coffee shop had calmed down and my coworker was doing fine on her own, I tried to busy myself in the back of the shop, wondering if the boy was still there. After a few minutes I took a deep breath and went back behind the counter. He had left the money for his coffee under the empty cup. As I picked it up, a white piece of paper fluttered to the floor. 

"Call me," it said, a phone number scrawled in black. I grinned.

Anonymous



The bag hangs off her right shoulder. It is small and light, considering it's for a four day stay, but it is still of considerable size. He's waiting for her when she comes out of the gate, and runs to her a moment later. They embrace, for the first time in years, each squeezing the other as if to crush. He takes the satchel, over her protestations, and they walk through the station. At the other end, they take the escalator, and go through the doors, to the subway. He brought an extra pass, and they quickly go through. They're speaking about the city, their recent lives, successes, and troubles, but their eyes are wandering lower.

They wait three minutes for the train, and board. There are a few scattered other passengers, mostly boarding from that same station. The train is otherwise nigh deserted. They're sitting together, her resting her tired head on his shoulder--she is still waking from the train, even as they talk.

Three stops later they disembark, and walk down the stairs to their transfer platform. They wait a few minutes more, and yet another train arrives. They get on the last car. It is the late evening, on a Thursday, on a disused line on the rearmost car, and they are the lone passengers. Still, though the car is empty, they sit in the rear alcove of the car. They sit next to each other again, though by now is she fully revived. His arm is around her waist, and, as they talk, he playfully tickles her side.

She laughs, and tickles his, and kisses his lips lightly. He returns the favor, then kisses her more deeply, sensually, with just a hint of tongue. Even as the smooch reaches its height, he tickles her again, and it ends in a sputtered giggle from both sides.

Her eyes quietly survey the train again, before she quickly unzips his fly, unbuttons his boxers [though not his jeans], and pulls out his penis, already partially erect from their tense play. She nibbles his earlobe, and whispers "See? You're ticklish, too."

Her cool hand still wrapped around his phallus, she kisses him again deeply, with tongue. As their lips part, she sticks out her tongue, and licks her right hand, then brings it down on his head. She feels it expand fully beneath her palm, in that familiar inflation she finds strangely satisfying, as she begins to stroke it lovingly. She brings her hands up and down on it, her fingers playfully running across its underside, and she revels in the subtle throbbing of his excitement.

She kisses him again, thrusting her tongue deeply down his throat, as though to dominate his mouth as fully as she now did his loins, in an embrace of lips more passionate than any either had yet felt, perhaps because of the adrenaline each took from the risk of exposure. As the kiss heightened to a fevered pitch, and as her rubbing grew faster and harder, he undid her zipper, and unbuttoned her jeans. He slid his fingers down, and felt her hair beneath.

She broke the kiss for a moment to breathe "Just like you asked," heavily, "Nothing under the denim, dear."

His fingers slid down, stroking her labia, and deliberately avoiding her clitoris. They reached the bottom of her slit, then pushed between her lower lips. Then, just as her stroking reached its low point on his shaft, he began to stroke up, over her hole. She shivered lightly, and just as her fingers tickled the top of his penis, his half-stroked, half-pinched her clitoris. Her hand dropped down his shaft, and his stroked down her slit, their mouths locked in a sensuous embrace. Up and down, their pulses quickened. Up and down, their passion built. The fifth synchronous stroke was too much denial to bear. 

She swung on leg over his, straddling him, her knees at the back of his chair's seat, her hips sitting halfway up his thighs, since he was sitting forward in his seat. Her hands dropped to the base of his hard shaft, holding it like a knife pointed at herself, and she thrust her pelvis forward. Even as she did so, he sunk his fingers into her, and used his palm to cover the rest of her quivering, wet vulva. His penis was harmlessly deflected by the back of his palm.

She thrust down harder, pressing his hand into his hers, still gripped at the base of his shaft, and pushing her cleavage into his chin. "Please," she whispered, undulating her famished hips. His fingers began to move inside her and she arched her back and neck. As she did, her shirt caught on his chin, buried between her breasts, and he pulled it off the right one. 

He began to move his fingers faster within her, and now her hands were not distracting him. With his teeth, he carefully pulled her bra from off her right breast, to reveal the swollen nipple beneath. He moved his lips to it, and sucked gently. She began, against her will, to moan softly as her pleasure built.

Keeping one hand wrapped around his shaft, she sunk the other one into his boxers, and began to tickle his sack, gently stroking it, even as his fingers bent and twisted inside her. They touched every inch they could find, probing, seeking, tickling and enticing her wet, tight, hot core. His tongue danced across her nipple, and ecstasy began to overtake her. 

Desperately, she turned her face down, and whispered "Please, make love to me." His fingers pushed in harder, moving yet faster. His sucking grew more intense. She could feel her pussy begin to contract on the two welcome, yet torturous, probes. "Please," she continued, biting back orgasm, "I want you inside me."

He gently placed his teeth around her nipple's bulbous head. "No," he said, then sucked down hard. Her wetness drenched his hand, as he pushed it as deeply as he could inside her.

Every muscle in her body clenched to hold back the onrushing wave. "Why not?" she moaned, as the dam began to crack. He took his mouth off her nipple. With his free hand, he brushed her two arms off his groin. She was too paralyzed and distracted by her own gathering storm to resist.

Abruptly, he removed his fingers from her hole. She for a moment abated her tense struggle against coming. Even as she momentarily released, however, he stood up with a start. With every muscle in his body, he rammed forward, slamming her against the reinforced-glass that partially divided the small alcove from the rest of the car. The motion didn't even have time to register before he followed, crashing into her, and sliding his cock up her now-vacant hole with all the force his body could exert. The sudden shock, the abrupt entry of his shaft, and her own brief release of restraint were too much. 

She came, with him inside her like a pillar supporting a crumbling building, her every muscle contorting and releasing in an iron-hard orgasm. It built, and built, higher and higher, washing over her as none before had, her legs buckling under her. Unable to contain herself, she let out a small, barely-concealed scream. For a brief second as it began, she was afraid they would be discovered--what conductor wouldn't check when he heard a woman scream late at night?--until she heard the metal squeal of a braking train. Even as her orgasm crested, he whispered in her ear, tickling the lobe with his breath and ear, "Because this is our stop."

Her screaming moan turned into a giggling sigh, as she came down, in lock step with the slowing of the train. As her body calmed, he withdrew, sliding his now-soaking wet penis out of her quivering pussy. He gently moved her bra and shirt back over her breast, and, just as the door of the train opened, redid her jeans. He picked up her bags, as she reached for his fly. For a moment, however, the wanton sensualist in her took over once more, and before she placed it back in its clothing, she wrapped her lips around its head, and licked and sucked it briefly clean. His motion paused to revel in it for an instant, then resumed as she zippered him up. They walked calmly out of the train, with no outward signs but somewhat mussed hair.

They left the metro station, riding the long escalator to street level, their hands interlaced. They were again chatting of the events of their lives, joking, smiling, and generally enjoying each others' company. They reached the top of the escalator, and began to walk the four blocks to his building. He had her bag on his left shoulder, his right arm around her, resting his gloved hand slightly below her right breast. 

The weather was not much different than in Richmond, only a few degrees colder. Perhaps under normal conditions, she would have been slightly uncomfortable in the trivially greater chill, but she found it almost pleasant, cooler her off after the earlier passions. They passed building after building, the streets slipping by unnoticed as the old friends rekindled the intimacy that physical separation had somewhat inhibited.

They reached the entrance to his building, and he swiped the scanner with his ID. The doors silently opened, and, without breaking conversation, they continued into the building and up the stairs. Their paces independently, but simultaneously, quickened as they got, step by step, closer to their destination. They walked onto the second floor, almost jogging, and he led her to his room at the end of the hall. He rustled for the keys in his pockets, as she quietly asked "Your roommates?"

He inserted the key into the lock, and quietly breathed "Aren't back from Winter Break." He was so distracted by the coming passions that he hadn't even made a joke about the obviously sexual connotations of sliding the key into the lock.

He opened the door, tossed the bag inside, and closed it behind him. Almost as the lock clicked, he felt her hands embrace him like a vice. He felt her lips press down on his neck, and sensed the hands unbuttoning his shirt. 

He wrapped his own arms around her, one on each of her hips, and hooked his thumbs under her jeans. As she finished unbuttoning his shirt, one hand began to explore his chest, while the other slid down his torso, and undid his fly. His own hands slid around to the front of her jeans, and, even as his pants fell, hers followed. In synchrony, each stepped out of the discarded garments. He grasped her hands, and spun around, face to face, their arms crossed in front.

"No fair," she grinned. "I've nothing to hide behind, and you have THAT little thing," she joked.

"Does it bother you?" he asked, spinning her around as though in a tango, so that now she faced away from him. He pulled her in, her back against his belly. She could feel his ramrod-readiness poking the small of her back. He let go of her hands, and she pulled his boxers down, even as he began to pull her shirt up. She obliged, lifting her arms. 

As the woolen sweater left her body, she undid her own bra strap. She pulled it off, as he removed his own already-unbuttoned shirt. They kicked off their shoes--neither wore socks. They were now completely naked, her leaning back against his chest. He slid his hands forward, between her arms and flanks, so that they met and clasped at her belly button.

He bent his knees a little, so that his chin rested on her shoulder, and his cheek rubbed up against hers. His shaft, hard as a rock in anticipation, stuck out between her thighs, its head and part of its length extending beyond her thighs. He bent his arms, raising his hands to his face, and licked first one, then the other, then moved each to start massaging her nipples. She nuzzled his cheek, then licked her own palms. She lowered her hands to his shafter, and began to stroke his head. She could feel the throbbing--he hadn't come in the subway, and she knew he had to be feeling the twinge of blue balls. 

"Don't worry," she crooned. "I'll make it all better," she continued. She let go of his head, turned around, and kissed his nose, before lowering to her knees. He leaned back against the door for balance, and she resumed stroking his shaft. "My only demand is that afterwards, I stand back up, and you go in from behind," she dictated, to which his response was a grin and a nod.

"I know how much you like that," he assented with a knowing smirk.

She began to stroke his shaft again, but the friction was too high. Perhaps her mouth was a little dry, or she hadn't licked her palms enough, or perhaps the surface area was simply to great for a little saliva to smooth the way--there was a downside to size, after all--but her palms were meeting with too much resistance. She kissed the tip of his head, and said "Needs to be a little slipperier." 

She leaned back, and spread her knees, to reveal her dripping pussy, still wet from the train, compounded by her current arousal. She dipped two fingers into herself, and pushed her pelvis against her hand. She rocked back and forth, back and forth, against her hand, then removed it, and repeated with the other hand. She then placed each around his shaft, and gripped. He sucked in air, as her now-slippery hands slid up and down his lengths, tightening around his cock. She moved them forward and back, forward and back, then, as they reached their furthest from his body, she removed further hand, and, as she pushed back towards him, slid her mouth around his head. 

She could see his muscles tense as she took in his masculinity, her free hand moving to caress his scrotum. She ran her tongue across his head, and she could feel the pre-cum slowly ooze from the eye as the pulsing throbs grew stronger. Her fingers danced across his sack, as her hand stroked up and down his quivering shaft. 

Her mouth inched further and further around him, taking more of him, bit by bit, inside her. Her tongue covered more and more of his head and shaft, circling it, stroking it, caressing it, as more entered her mouth. She began to suck in, ceasing her mouth's advance, clamping down on the bulging vein atop his length. Her fingers stroked furiously around and over his testicles, as her other hand gripped as hard as she could on his cock. 

He leaned to the corner, where the door met the wall, for better balance, and jerkingly lifted a foot off the ground. He pushed it forward, between her still-spread knees, and stroked her dripping pussy with his big toe. The stroke sent a shiver up her spine, all the way to her dancing tongue. As that muscle within her mouth shuddered, she felt his scrotum rise, and she felt an upward pressure from his dripping cock. His every muscle now opposed his orgasm. Her thighs squeezed in, trapping his foot, and she released her sucking on his cock. "What's between my legs can wait a moment or two, love--it's YOUR turn to lose control" she murmured gleefully, then leaned in. 

Releasing the hand gripped around his penis, she placed the tip of her tongue on the bottom of his scrotum. She then dragged it back, tracing a line down the bottom of his shaft. She could feel his toes curl against her labia. As her tongue reached the base of his head, just as her mouth once again wrapped around his quivering cock's tip, with a moaning sigh he exploded. She clamped her mouth down around his spraying head as it went mad with built up lust. 

She ticked his scrotum with both hands, and smiled inwardly as he screamed her name, as loud as he dared in the not-quite-soundproof suite. She sucked hard on his cock, rubbing it against the roof of her mouth even as her tongue stroked its underside, as he rode the orgasm down.

As his shaking and moaning stopped, she released his foot, and slid her mouth off his cock. She rested her hands on his hips, and slowly, kissing every inch from the base of his shaft up his belly, up his chest, to his mouth. She looked deep into his eyes, and gulped, taking in his bitter-sweetness, just as she knew he would, at some point that evening, take in hers. His arms snapped around her body, and held her close. 

He nibbled her ear, then whispered "That might have been my turn, but now it's yours." He spun around her, so that she faced the door, and he faced her spine, and slid his arms once more under hers, so that they ticked her nipples. His cock, unable to decide between hardness from extreme arousal, and softness from exhaustion, dangled semi-flaccid against her legs. She reached down, and rubbed its head, pulling it up, to lie against her slit. She didn't even notice as his hands dropped down to meet hers.

His left index and middle finger softly stroked her labia, and pushed them aside to expose her moist hole, while the other guided his head up, so that its tip just barely punctured the opening. Her fingers stroked up and down his shaft, as he held it in place, and as his left hand abandoned her labia, and began to caress her clitoris. His cock expanded under her soft touch, pushing into her, and she closed her eyes at the sweet feeling of his entrance. 

Now both his hands moved to pleasure her clitoris and her upper labia, cavorting across them like dancers on a stage. He pushed up into her slowly, at the same time thrusting forward, inching her towards the wall. His left hand grasped her clitoris between two fingers, and began to cradle it, twirl it, and hold it. His length sunk up into her, and her hard nipples pressed the door.

He bent his knees slowly, dragging himself back out, until only his head was in her. He stood back up, glacially slow. and continued to rock her clitoris in his left hand. The tip of his head reached her g-spot, and his right hand grabbed the base of his shaft. He pulled it towards the wall, while standing up slightly, and started to circle with his hands. 

With the strength of his arm behind it, his head caressed and circled his g-spot. She gasped at the unexpected move, her mind caught between the fingers pleasuring her clit, and the thick, hard head pressing against her spot. Her own hands curved back around him, and she ran her fingers across his bare spine. His pelvis pushed forward further.

His fingers held her clitoris like a cigarette, and he shifted them to roll the nub, as her pelvis, pushed forward by his, crushed his hand against the wall. His broad head pushed harder against her spot, now squashed between his arm and his cock. She could feel the second orgasm building--even though he was not thrusting deeply into her, her fluids dripped down his bulging shaft. He nibbled on her earlobe, and she began to moan. She felt two of the fingers on his right hand slide into her, and they pushed directly against his head into her spot. 

Having his broad shaft, and two large fingers, inside her brought a pleasurable pain from overextending her tight vagina. His left hand pressed his fingers back and together, so that they pressed in tightly on her pulsing clitoris, and so the tip of it just barely stroked the door beyond. Her hips began to buck against him, as though struggling to escape, but it was involuntary. His penis stroked and pressed harder and harder against her spot. She could barely contain herself as he rolled her clitoris, and pressed to strongly within her.

She could feel herself contracting, tensing down on her overstuffed cave, mingling a sharp buy mild pain with a sharp but overwhelming pleasure. He sensed the tension, and slid his hand out of her. He pulled his pelvis back, dragging almost all of himself out of her, and, as her hips followed his, bringing her a foot and a half back from the door. Her teeth clenched, biting down on the orgasm to come, and his hands moved up to her shoulders. 

Before she realized what that meant, he thrust his hips up, and pulled her shoulders down, throwing his full length into her cove, already on the brink. She started to come, and her legs fell out from under her. He had slid beneath her to get a better angle into which to penetrate her, and she fell onto his lap, pressing and holding his entire shaft in her. She let out a shrill moan/shriek as his hands now returned to stroking her clit, and her orgasm overran her mind completely. For a moment she lost herself to the primal beast within her, not thinking, not observing what was around her, merely embracing the shattering orgasm of the moment. 




Anonymous



Anonymous

Everyone knows my name. I'm Anonymous. My given name is Chuck. I write porno novels that everyone reads and no legit writer wants to be associated with. It more than pays the bills and I really enjoy writing them. I write on a variety of topics but mostly the subject tends to fall in the cross-dressing area.

I get my ideas and thoughts from all over. How guys discover they enjoy it and what happens went they get caught as usual. They can never keep it a secret. This was true even in my case.

When I write, I like to get into character. Especially writing CD stories. Getting dressed up like a girl helps me identify with the character better. Okay, so maybe it is just an excuse to dress up in my girlie things.

I had to start the new outline for my editor. The story line was about some young executive being caught out by his female boss and how she changed him to her house girl. Yeah I know it's a sad, typical premise but my editor and fans loved it.

I got out of bed and showered. I took the time to shave... everything. Getting into the part was really important to me. Everything below the neck was smooth and slick, not that there was a lot anyways. I was mostly hairless. Anything there was ultra-fine. My beard was pretty much non-existent. I only had to shave a couple of times a week and then there was hardly anything to shave.

I used a perfumed powder on over my body. I liked the smell. And it made my body feel like silk. Speaking of which, I pulled up a pair of pink, silk panties. They were a full front with lace panel in front and matching black trim. The back was a T-back frilly strip that ran up my butt crack and pressed against my hole.

Now I have a variety of breast forms from A's to DD's depending on what I was writing and what the character did. Today, nice C sized forms would be perfect. I supported them with the matching pink with black lace trim bra. The cups were demi's that allowed the breast form nipples to peek over. I pulled and adjusted my forms to give me a deep, ample cleavage.

Even though it was to be a warmer summer day, the basement where my office was located remained cool. Wearing stocking would be more than comfortable. I selected a pair of 30 denier white ones with a heavy pink seam up the back of the legs and pink RHT. The tops were scalloped with white and pink lace.

I still needed to have breakfast and read the paper. It was nice enough that I left the back door open to the eating area. I didn't want to expose myself too much although the back yard was very well treed. I pulled on an over sized golf shirt that almost looked like a dress rather than a shirt and some little material pull up pants. I slipped on a pair of low heeled slippers with marabou trim. They didn't really go with my outfit. "I should really buy something that matches." I thought to myself.

After a couple of hours of enjoying the paper and coffee and trying to get other ideas of what to write, I decided to get my panty ass in gear. I went downstairs and booted up my PC. I pulled off my shirt and pants before I sat down to enter in my PC password.

The outline was more difficult that I thought it would be. I always try not to follow the typical and repetitive plots and go for more twisted scenarios. That's the trouble with writing for a living. You might have ideas but how to make them unique from your past writings or other authors was eternally hard.

Things were going slowly at first, but I managed to get a majority of it written. A lot of times, I become hard even writing my own stuff. Pretty narcissistic but I can't help it. I often wished I had three hands so I could typed with the two and use the other to play with myself. 

I checked at the clock. "Two hours. Not bad I guess." I muttered to myself and then realized there was some pressure in my lower abdomen. "Hmmm. Need to go pee."

The toilet was upstairs on the main floor. I didn't bother pulling on my cover ups and walked up the stairs. While the back is treed in, the front is open. There's a big picture window I needed to pass to get to the can. The thought of getting caught was always exciting. Before passing the window, I peeked and checked to see if anyone was coming or might be looking in. "Clear." I dashed to the bathroom. 

When I wear garters, I almost always wear the straps over my panties rather than through the leg holes. This prevented me from pulling my panties all the way down and I have to sit to pee rather than stand. I think pulling my panties to one side was rude and stretched them out. Also in my mind, it was just so much sexier.

I shimmied down my thong as far as my garters would allow and sat down. The cool blast of air hit my slightly firm cock but I managed a long tinkle. I wiped off the dribble with some tissue but looking down at myself, I could help but give myself a few tugs. Okay, more than a few and ended up with a full blow hard on. My foreskin pulled back and my knob an angry purple.

"Fuck, I should stop but it feels so good!" I grunted. I needed to discipline myself. "Fuck!" I reluctantly stopped. If I didn't I wouldn't have the edge to continue writing. I pulled up my panties back into place and flushed the loo. Yes, I washed my hands, not that it would soon make a difference.

Making it safely back downstairs and into my office, I resettled myself at my PC. I lost my place and had to re-read what I wrote. My hand dropped down to my crotch and massaged my cock through my panties. A big drop of pre-cum leaked through the material so I used my finger to spread it around my piss hole.

While I had to use both hands to type corrections and amendments, but I remained hard. That third hand would come in really handy right now. My hands quickly returned to my lap.

I opened up my desk drawer and found the bottle of lube I kept there. I placed a big dollop of it onto the wet spot on my panties. It was water based so I wasn't worried about it staining. The slippery feeling on my piss hole was intense. I poured on more, spread it over my panties and down my shaft. 

When I came to the part where the main character Charlotta was caught by his boss who discovered he had a secret weapon hidden in his panties, I had to do something.

I pulled my panty waist over my cock and under my balls (yes, it stretched it but what the fuck). More lube. "Oh..." I moaned loudly as my hand stroked my cock. I needed something more. 

I found my well used, jelly fuck sleeve. I pushed my knob into the little opening. It easily slid over my well lubed cock. The sleeve felt like a little tight cunt as I slid it up and down. I still needed something more. 

I dug around for my new variable speed, vibrating egg. There was a hole on the top of the sleeve that I could slip it into. It touched my pee hole. "Oh god!" I moaned again. A few more strokes. I still needed something more.

"My vibrating ass plug!" I thought. "Perfect." With a bit more lube, the slippery, tapered tip would easily push through. My ass hole easily accepted and accommodated the widening plug until it snap closed around the narrow base. I replaced the back strap of my thong to hold it in place. 

I matched the vibration levels and felt it from the tip of my dick all the way deep inside my ass and against my prostate. The stroking sleeve was bringing me to the climatic edge. "Oh fucking god!" I cried out. My whole body started to shake. I knew I wasn't going to hold out much longer.

"Hey, Gary! Are you in?" I recognized the voice of my neighbour Vicky.

"Fuck!" I'm not sure I swore because I heard Vicky or because I was so close to cumming. I down looked at myself still only dressed in my bra and panties. My shirt and pants were unreachable across the room. I couldn't stop and started to climax. 

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Ooooo...!" I shot huge wads of white cum into the fuck sleeve, but much of it erupted out of the sleeve and over my hands. 

"Hi Gary. The back door was open... Oh excuse me!" I heard Vicky's voice in my office. 

Vicky had come downstairs and stood in the doorway of my office. She stared at me, soaking in every detail: my big breasts; pink bra and matching panties; stockings and garters. I still had my cock in the sleeve and the plug was still vibrating hard in my asshole. I was still shaking from my intense orgasm.

"Uhh... Vicky. I uh.." I stammered. I eyed Vicky.

Vicky stood about 5' 1" and couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds. She wore a tight, shortie crop top that did little to control the big nipples of her B sized breasts. Her belly was completely exposed. The tight bum shorts looked more like shorty boy panties and allowed me to look at her smooth and shapely legs all the way up to her tight camel toe. Her tiny feet were in flip flops and let her crimson painted toe nails sparkle.

"Umm.. Gary. I am sor... I don't know what to say." Vicky looked at me but didn't look away. She licked her lips. Her eyes widened. Her breathing was now almost a pant. She brought one hand to her tit and started to play with her nipple. She spread her legs apart as she slipped her other hand inside her shorts. I could see her finger play with clit.

Between the vibrating egg on my dick and the vibrating plug up my ass, my cock remained hard in the masturbation sleeve and I still spasmed from my orgasm. She pulled up her top and pinched her nipples. Her shorts were pulled down around her thighs. Her hand moved at a blinding speed. "Oh god, fucking cum..m..ing!"

By the time I managed to turn off both vibrators, Vicky collapsed on to the leather sofa in my office. As I looked about for my shirt and pants, I managed to pull off the sleeve but for some reason was now really embarrassed to pull out the one from my ass. 

"Leave it in!" Vicky told me while still panting. "What the fuck are you doing dressed like that?"

Over the next while, I explained that I wrote porn novels. I told her of the different stories I wrote. Most about CD's getting caught typically by his girlfriend, wife, sister or some other female. "I dress this way to get more empathetic with the character.

"Pathetic, more like it." She laughed, then eyed me up and down. "But you know you have very nice legs. Especially in those stockings and garters. And a nice cock too. Nicer than Dave's"

Dave was her husband. I think he was away on a business trip this week.

"I was going to ask you over to do me a favour and for lunch, but now I have a different favour and something else to munch on." Vicky told me.

She stood between my legs and started stroking me. I could believe how hard I remained. A new bead of pre-cum formed out my piss hole. Vicky collected it on her index finger and brought it to my lips. Cautiously I stuck out my tongue as she touched the bead against the tip. It was sticky and sweet. 

"Your tits are bigger than mine!" She lowered her head and in turn took each nipple into her mouth. I swear it felt like she was actually suckling my own. "Hmm... but my nipples are bigger and harder than yours." 

Vicky started to kneel. Her hands ran down the sides of my body. She descended downwards until she was face to cock. "Uncut! Nice, not like Dave's" She pulled the foreskin back and licked another bead of pre-cum from me. "Hmm... Very tasty." And took me half way into her mouth.

"Oh fuck Vicky. Your mouth is so hot and wet." I moaned. 

Vicky grabbed my ass cheeks with both hands and pulled me into her face. Her nose pressed against me as I felt my dick go down her throat. Her long tongue lapped the underside of my ball sack. 

"OH GOD!" I groaned loudly. I grabbed her head with both hands. My toes pointed out as nylon legs went stiff. "Oh fuck!" 

Vicky pulled me down onto the carpet floor. She parted and guided my legs upwards until my ass was off the floor. She pulled the thong strap away and slowly extracted the plug from my ass. She looked at me and smiled. She pushed her tongue out from between her pursed lips. It was really long. It had to be almost 4 inches long. She leaned in and lightly tickled my gaping asshole with the tip of her tongue. I felt her spit drip down as she poked the sharp tip harder into me. 

"Oh fuck me, Vicky." I begged. "Fuck me with your tongue!"

She took hold of my hips. Slowly and steadily she forced her tongue in. I didn't realize how thick she could make it as it opened me up. Her nose was pressed into my ball sack when she wriggled her tongue deep inside me.

"Oh gawd!" I cried. I tried to jerk myself but Vicky slapped my hands away. I grabbed handfuls of my breasts. "God I wish these were real!"

Vicky was forcing her tongue in and out and was really fucking my ass now. I was about to...

"CUM!" I screamed like a little girl. Wads of white goo shot out and bukaked all over my face.

I laid on the floor panting. My dick still hard and pointing straight up in the air. I could already feel my cum drying and the skin tightening on my face. I looked over at Vicky who literally had a shit eating grin on her face.

"THAT was fucking nice!" She plopped herself into my office chair not bothering to wipe her wet face. "I didn't realize how fucking weird you are."



Anonymous



I'm on my knees, staring up at a beautifully round, fleshy, tanned ass. It's spherical shape so perfect, and because the woman who belonged to it was bending slightly forward and bending at the knees as if she's about to sit down directly onto my open mouth I was infatuated and driven to fanatical heights thinking about it, looking at it, admiring it...it belongs to my mistress after all. She tanned at the gym and her workouts were clearly evident but because her as is so full and round and completely shaven I was hard in my body and in my mind. I wanted to run my tongue up along her entirety. 

All of this is going through my mind and I've only been kneeling behind her in this position for a minute. I'd helped her dress—bottomless girdle/bustier with 6 straps, Wolford ultra-sheer nude stockings, 4 inch black leather sandals, straps bound her freshly pedicured feet and after dressing her to her satisfaction she beckoned me to kneel behind her and I stared at her beautifully shaved and tan ass as she slowly squatted down and sat on my face. As I watched her come closer I noticed her smooth pussy and ass weren't just shaven, she'd gotten a Brazilian at the salon. She was as smooth as I'd ever seen and somehow my mind couldn't take it and I felt for the first time the love and devotion we shared. I knew she loved our games as much as I did and I set my mind to service her as best as I could...I swore utter devotion to her body and mind and set my mind to the task. 'I want to please you mistress. I will make you beg for my tongue.' 

And, just as her ass was about to meet my lips she moved back and my whole mouth met her warm, soft, wet pussy. She was so warm and wet and I fed off of her as she rested her entire weight onto my face as if I was a chair. 

She giggled softly and used me as a resting spot while she put on her makeup. She doesn't use much, just enough to highlight her ravenous eyes...dark and bright at once, cold and hot simultaneously. Of course I couldn't watch her and she knows I adore watching her do her eyes. She stood briefly and turned to look at me. She caressed my face and with her soft hand, slipping her fore and middle finger into my mouth and told me to suck. Suck my sweet sissy girl, suck my cock she told me.

I was over the moon. I pictured myself kneeling in my pink chemise, white sheer-to-waste nylons with criss-crossed lace woven and connected with pink bows Wolfords, knee-length 5 inch black leather heels. I felt the smoothness of my nylons against my depilatory-smoothed legs, ass and clit, I imagined what I must look like and I devoted myself to the task and sucked her fingers as if they were her cock. I felt so much like a woman...I wanted to be a woman...I love to be a woman. 

She told me I could bring a chair over for her and one for myself but to fill our wine glasses first and I stood, wobbled on my heels and she giggled again and I strutted in as feminine a fashion as I could muster and filled our glasses with a nice white from California. She told me how sexy I look when I walk. She must know that in these heels one can only behave like a woman, walk and try to talk like a woman. The heels forced me to sway my hips and I turned at my torso and my long blonde haired wig swung adding to the effect and I pursed my painted lips kissed her thru the air. It feels so divine to be so open with her. She knows me and loves me for what I am. I felt butterflies in my stomach and my head seemed to sing with excitement. I was experiencing the best sex I've ever had in my life and I wasn't actually having sex. She was in my mind, granting me permission and loving me for it. I brought the freshly filled glasses to her and kissed her mouth. Our painted mouths met warmly and our tongues were specifically slow and we caressed each other's mouths with wetness and the flavor of lipstick and wine filled with each other's wet saliva made me swoon and exert even more effort to please her mouth and the way she kissed me back told me she was doing the same and we kissed like this until she broke it off and resumed her makeup. 

She told me to sit and watch and we talked about what tonight might bring and how she knew the man who was coming over later. When she was in college she dated a guy who was bi. She didn't know he actually preferred men but apparently when he saw her in the library one day, he was instantly infatuated. She has that effect on men. She'll tell you it's her open-mindedness, but I think it's her vulnerability, but more than that it's her eyes. Her eyes will make you cum. He sat across from her in one of the pc carols and "accidentally" dropped his pen underneath and it landed on her side. She handed it to him as he was standing up to get it from her and he glanced at her terminal and struck up a conversation over the art history essay she was working on. They had some mutual friends and he was so handsome and cute she found herself opening up to him in a way she wasn't accustomed to. They agreed to meet for a drink on that Friday and that night she was sneaking into his dorm room through the window. She couldn't explain it, he was hot and harmless and whatever she said or did she knew he was wrapped around her finger. His cock was huge and he made her cum with it. He never seemed to want anything from her and he talked to her like a girlfriend. She got him to admit is sexual orientation on their third date. She has that effect. It's her eyes. 

The entire time she was telling me this story I sat in my outfit and felt like a real woman. Sharing our stories, drinking wine, putting on makeup, the whole experience was driving me wild and she knew it. I stood behind her, so tall and overwhelming she submitted to my mouth and I kissed her tenderly and softly behind her ears and licked and breathed hot breath onto her ear and rubbed my hands along the crevice of her slickened pussy. I slid a finger into her and she moaned. I brought her to the bed and lay her on her stomach. I told her to relax and let me please her. I massaged her and moved my hands around her body. I lay on top of her and the friction between our satin and nylon covered bodies heightened the moment and I leaned over her and pulled her long soft brown hair away from her neck and worked her soft tender erotic zones with my mouth, lips and tongue. She moaned and thrust her ass against my hard clit. 

I glanced to the side and caught a glimpse of us on the bed in the mirror-covered wall and the picture I saw was of two women pleasuring one another. I wanted to be a woman, but I know she likes a man. I wanted her to feel my lust. I pressed my cock into her and kissed and slid my wet tongue around her neck and behind her ears. I reveled in her sent. Her hair, her skin, her sex. I could literally smell her sex. Hungry I moved down her back licking and tasting her. I moved to her ass and she tried to resist but my male side forced her down and I told her to relax, rest, let me please you. I rested there, my face so close to her ass. I playfully traced my fingers along her thighs, calves and ankles. I used the strength in my hands to need and feel her flesh. I massaged and needed her legs and calves, behind her knees I kissed and licked. I moved in on the flesh of her ass and softly pulled and pushed her ass flesh, opening momentarily her ass cheeks so I could see her sweet puckered asshole and then let the flesh collapse onto themselves. I licked her round buttocks and thighs, the while massaging her ass, loosening her resolve and licked slowly, slowly from her ass cheeks inward until I was rimming her hole. Eventually I dragged my tongue in its most softened position up and around her asshole. I was so soft and gentle she couldn't resist. She moaned and I knew I'd won her over and softly and diligently worked my tongue around, over, up and down her ass until she began to meet my mouth with thrusts of her own. I was thrusting my hot hands underneath her, between her body and the soft sheets of the bed and used the full breadth of my large hands to feel every crease and crevice of her pussy, thighs and stomach. She was thrusting now and I held her completely lodged between my mouth on her ass and my hands on her pussy. She moaned oh god she moaned. I want to please her. I want to please her. 

Her phone rang. She talked to Grant. She laughed and giggled. She told him that I was waiting to suck his cock. She told him I was dressed. She told him I was bare of hair and my face was painted like a slut and she laughed as she looked at my expression on my face. She told him to get here asap. 

I was humiliated. I didn't know what to do. I was turned on beyond any other experience I'd ever had. I wanted to be a woman but what she was saying and how she was saying it made me want to be a man. She looked at me after she hung up and told me exactly what I was afraid of. Don't worry honey she told me. Don't let what people expect, don't let what people will say bother you. You are a woman Audrie. You are my sissy. Grant is gay, you can please him. He will fuck me with his glorious cock and he will make me cum but it's you he will be turned on by. You will make him cum Audrie. She told me these things and rubbed my clit through my nylons and told me she knows what I am and what I want. And I told her how much I love her. I told her I am her sissy girl slut and because she's here watching and encouraging me it makes me love her even more. She caressed me and kissed me and we made out like sluts. 

She told me to fill our glasses and we fixed our makeup together. She helped me with my eyes. She painted my lips. I was finally making my dreams come true and my mistress was making it happen. She looked at me and I saw in her eyes acceptance, desire, love and lust. She wanted me to open up to her. I wanted to. We talked and laughed and I was free. I loved being a woman with her, yet she knew I was a man. That's what made me so grateful. I am a man but I love to be a woman. I love to see a woman orgasm. I love to watch a woman be a woman and I wanted to be a woman too. My cock was my clit. My ass is a pussy. I am a slut. I love to be a slut, to suck cock, to take cock in my pussy. But I want a woman to do these things to me. My mistress is a woman who knows me and the moments we shared makes me the woman I want to be. My mistress asked me a question. "What do you want?"

I hesitated. "Tell me Oz...what do you want?"

I want you to see me Aimz. See me as I am. I love to be a woman. I love to be a slut. I love to suck cock, but what makes it real is you being here. You love me for who I am. I love you because you know me more and better than anyone else. 

"Show me Oz...Show me who you are...."

I stand and I walk around the room in my heels. I look at her and I am hypnotized by her eyes. I want to show her. I caress myself and tilt my head back in lust and I show her. Look at me mistress, look at me.



Anonymous



Had her mind been processing what was going on around her, she would have felt the telltale pulsing of his penetrating shaft, and known that he, too, was not far from climax, but she wasn't. All her mind was experiencing her ecstasy. As she floated down from it, she lay back against his chest. All she felt was his flesh supporting and embracing her. All she saw was his eyes, looking into hers, as her head turned back to meet his gaze. All she heard was the dull dripping of their mingled fluids on the floorboards beneath. All she smelled was his warm breath. Her quaking subsided, and they stood up, covered in their own sweat, and her come, and he gently led her to his bed a few steps away. He lay her down, and she sighed. Her legs were spread, and a trickle of fluid formed a gradually-expanding wet spot beneath.

He gazed at her form for a few seconds, and she smiled. Then he lay down on top of her, nuzzling cheek to cheek. He kissed her neck, then her cleavage. His lips then touched the top of her right breast, then wrapped around her left nipple. He kissed below her breasts--first right, then left--then kissed above her belly button. His tongue dipped into the button, tickling her playfully, before he kissed just above her pubic hair. 

He kissed her hair, then moved his face millimeters in from of her dripping vulva. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and approached so close to her flowering that she could feel the very air it move, nipping in the humid fog. He darted it to the side, torturously evading her swollen, tantalized pussy, and sensuously licked her left side, the crease where her thigh joined her pelvis. So aroused was she, that even a near-miss like that sent a spike of pleasure through her body. His tongue stroked that cleft again and again, and, seemingly every time he did, another droplet of her liquid escaped her oozing hole. 

He dragged his tongue up and around, slipping above her pussy, sojourning through her pubic hair, sticky with both their come, to emerge on the other side, and slide down to her other crease. He stroked that joint with the tip of his tongue once, twice, thrice... now every drop of pleasure that that tonguing gave was outweighed by ten of agony, as her vulva demanded further pleasure, insisting on a third orgasm.

"Please," she murmured, mirroring her request on the train. He slid his tongue left, dragging it along the line that marked the nadir of her pelvis. He dragged it back and forth between those two creases like a clock... tic... toc... tic... toc... and it was almost too much denial for her to stand. 

He flatted his tongue against her, placing its entire surface on her groin, and pulled it up, like a lame limb, and slightly right, skirting the outside of her screaming pussy. Her pelvis arched up, and began twitching in all directions, as if to force his deadbeat tongue to her more sensitive regions. To no avail, his tongue moved with her, orbiting down the other side of her throbbing, achingly horny femininity. He reached the bottom of her pussy, now utterly drenched, and she moved her hands, palm down, to the sides of her pussy, to block his tongue. 

He now either had to slide it over her hands [thus stopping the torture, and being simple denial] or begin to pleasure her slit. He pushed his tongue upward slightly, running over the bottom of her slit, but stopped before the telltale creases of her hole. She pushed her pelvis upward again, but, once more to no avail, his tongue slid back down. His tongue moved up again, and her hips again, reflexively, pushed up, only to have his probing flesh retreat. She was nearly in tears, so great was her denied passion. 

As he ran his tongue up her soaked slit again, he moved his arms up her body, skimming her belly, and moved to her rock-hard nipples. He gripped them in his fingers just as his tongue peaked beneath her hole, then began to massage them as his tongue dropped back down.

"Please!" she begged, through clenched teeth, her desperation clearly audible. He was touching every erogenous zone she had, save only those who could bring her to orgasm, and the pain from that sweetness was awesome. As his tongue moved upward again, and as his fingers played with her nipples, her own thumbs, almost involuntarily, moved inward, and began to stroke her own clit. His tongue moved down again, and she seemed to forget about blocking his teases. 

Her right hand moved to concentrate on her clitoris, massaging, stroking, and playing with the hub of her pleasure, while her left began to penetrate herself. His hands continued to stroke her nipples, while she began to hump the three fingers she dipped into her pussy. Her pelvis slid up and down, thrusting into the trio. "Look what you made me do," she crooned. "I travel all the way up here, and still you make me touch myself, rather than feel a cock inside me. You're so mean," she continued. 

He slid up her body, snakelike, until they were face to face. Her left hand, the one whose fingers were sliding into and out of her dripping cave, could feel his pubic hair dancing across her knuckles. He didn't stop tickling her nipples, and her right hand continued to play with her clitoris. So far had he cruel maraudings gone that she could even now, fifteen seconds after first touching her swollen clit, feel the orgasm coming like an onrushing wave. His eyes were locked to hers. 

He moved his right hand to her side, and balanced himself on it, while the right pulled her hands away from her pelvis. "If that's all you wanted, why didn't you just say so?" he quietly breathed. Her left hand, the one now drenched with fluid from within herself, gripped his shaft. She could feel its hardness--teasing her must have been nearly as arousing for him as for her, since a finger dancing across his head detected a few drops of pre-cum. 

She pointed his head towards her hole, but her fluid made it too slippery to pull him into her. Her eyes implored him, her sweat-soaked body invited him, and her lake like vulva wept for him to enter her. He moved his hands back to her nipples, and as he began to play with them again, he slowly pushed his pelvis upward. He played with the nubs between his fingers, dancing and twirling them the way a connoisseur toyed with a wine glass. 

His head pressed against her hole, and, almost as though a button had been pressed, her legs wrapped around his waist. Their gazes remained transfixed upon each other, as his broad head began to pierce her. She could feel the pleasurable release approaching... the telltale tickles flashed inside of her. His head was fully inside now, and her legs tightened around him. Her nipples were like tiny grapes in his hands, as he pinched and squeezed them, as though testing them for ripeness. 

His shaft entered her, centimeter by centimeter. So sensitive and ready was she that she could feel every fold of skin on his circumference. She could feel the pulsing, thick vein on top of his shaft, like the spine on his glorious battering ram, that was knocking down the doors of her pleasure. She broke his gaze, and looked down. Sensing her intent, he spread her breasts to the side, while still playing with her nipples, and she moved one hand to support his body in response. 

Her view now unobstructed, she watched him slowly slide into her. More than half his length was still outside her, though she was nearly coming. Every nerve his shaft and head awoke screamed out to come, and every nerve within her that was not yet engaged begged her to wait, wait for them. Still, she watched him sinking in, as though it were some enrapturing pornography. Her free hand moved down, and tickled his shaft, her fingers dancing up and down its slick, moist surface. His length engaged nearly her entire depth now, and her inner walls began to tremble. But as if to answer his cruelty with kindness, she refused to come before he was fully inside her. 

He continued to sink deeper, stretching out her quivering innards, and her nipples almost sang with glee as he pleasured them further. She could not fit her hand between them enough to stroke his shaft, so she, perhaps in punishment for his selfish denials, moved to her own clitoris once more, and toyed with it. That was perhaps a mistake, because now she could barely contain the gathering orgasm--her vagina was very nearly vibrating around the invading cock, as she danced on the precipice. 

She reveled in that sensation, the teetering-on-coming that she knew so well, before removing her hand from her clit, and the one that supported him, and pulling inward on the legs that still clenched his waist. With that, he sank fully into her. For perhaps three seconds, she reveled in the sensation of having a shaft pierce so deeply. She could feel him break her inner barriers, pushing into her cervix, and, even without the prior teasing and play, she thought that just holding that deep penetration would bring her to ecstasy. But that was not the point, for when those three seconds were up, the crashing orgasm overtook her. 

Her pussy clenched around him like a vise, her entire body aglow with shock and overpowering joy. Wave of pleasure rode through her, which deepened with every passing moment. As if for stability, she grabbed her own thighs, still wrapped around his waist, but in this moment of utter, shocking, orgasmic reverie, even that contact felt like passionate masturbation. She opened her mouth to scream, but he clamped his onto it before a peep escaped. 

As she climbed higher and higher, utter nirvana caressing her every nerve and pore, his tongue thrust into her, and stroked the upper wall of her mouth. Her vision blurred as she reached the peak, and she felt her moisture dribble down her pelvis and belly, seemingly in every direction. She came and she came; afterwards, she would be unable to recall how long the shattering orgasm lasted, her perception of time falling victim to absolute carnal delight. When she came down, an eternity later, he was still deep inside her. 

As her vision refocused, and the world stopped spinning, his eyes were piercing hers. He shifted his cock inside her, lightly, and whispered "again?" She moved her hands to caress his balls. They were swelling in anticipation--a few minutes riding his shaft, and he would explode inside her. "Perhaps after a short nap. For your cruelty, knave, I sentence you to endure blue balls," she concluded. 

And with that, his head still probing the back edge of her vagina, still sunk as deeply into her as anything she had ever felt, she tossed a blanket over the both of them, closed her eyes, and started to feign sleep.



Anonymous



This is a nonfiction story. I'm writing it in regards to all of the negative feedback from readers that read my words just to criticize me for the stories I write. But before I begin, I wonder why anyone would read a story that appalls him. 

I'm sure that you can't tell me that you don't get off on my words. So see if you can get off on these. 

So in answer to your questions, "Do you hate all men?" 

My answer is no, I love men. 

You make comments about my divorces but you have no information to pull from other than words on my profile that states that I've been divorced twice. So here is the real story of my life.

My father was a pedophile. He raped me at an age too young to say on this site. All of my life men have pursued me for my prowess. 

I left home when I was eighteen to get away from the abuse of my father.

I moved to Washington D.C. where I met and married my first husband because he got me pregnant; something that I don't regret because my daughter is my most treasured gift from the Lord.

Her father, whom I was married to for thirteen years, was very deceptive. He led me to believe that he loved me and would care for our daughter and me for the rest of our lives. 

As soon as he had that ring on my finger, I became his "property. He was not a nice Master. He was a tyrant. And he was proud of it.

He beat me nightly and then forced me to have sex with him. He drank regularly and took out his aggressions on my body; only he knew where to hide the bruises. No one ever knew. 

That is until one day, his father dropped by unexpectedly and found him beating the hell out of me and took him out of the house so that he could "cool down."

A few weeks later, I had a car accident with Al Hurt. My sweet, loving husband was upset that I wasn't hurt badly enough to sue, so he grabbed my hair and tore my head back and forth with such fury that he did give me whiplash. 

My daughter was two years old at the time and she saw it all. Would you want your child to see that happen to your wife?

I stayed for thirteen years. I left because my daughter told me that if I didn't leave her dad, that she would leave me. What you have done? 

My daughter means more to me than anyone in my life. And my life I would give for her.

A few years later, I met a man that was wonderful. He pleaded with me to marry him and I knew that he was the one that would love me forever. So I said yes.

I had had a hysterectomy because of cancer so I had no more children. My daughter was grown with a child of her own. We were free to travel and do all the things we dreamed of. A trip to Spain, which was a wonderful time. We traveled the USA and were so in love I just knew he would never leave me. 

Then, my father had major surgery and I went to Arizona to help my mother with him. I was gone from home for weeks and months at a time. 

My husband was going to college to become a therapist. I was the one that was paying the bills. 

When I came back home after a three-week stint with my father, he informed me that he had taken off his wedding band and thrown it in a field.

But he had it on his hand. 

I asked him why he had it on. His answer was that he knew it would upset me if I came home and he didn't have it so he found it before he came home. Then he took it off and put in a jewelry box.

He told me that he was in love with someone else. Someone he had met at school. And he started not coming home. Finally he told me he wanted a divorce without even trying to work out any of the problems he saw in our marriage.

So now you can judge me. You can say that I hate men. You can say that I'm a real bitch. But at least now you know the real story.

The man that you say I abuse and hurt, wants to be treated that way. I love him so I give him the treatment he wants and expects from me. 

Cuckolds love seeing their wives with other men. They are unable to please the woman because their cocks are usually too small to give her the rapture that he believes she deserves. So judge me. But don't condemn me about things you don't even know.

But you know what really makes me angry? The fact that you don't even give me the chance to respond to your criticism by using the "Anonymous" label. 



Anonymous



A big thank you to my editors, LadyCibelle who sticks by me even though at times she may disagree with my stories, and to Jake River's who's sitting in for my editor Techsan They still edit my stories so the readers get a much better read.

*

Chapter 1: The Explanation

Let me begin by saying, "Most authors hate me." I'm the guy that leaves comments mostly on 'Cheating Wives' and 'Wimp Husband' stories. I decided to come out and explain to you why I do this. Of course I'll change a few facts like my name and where I'm from; I won't give you an e-mail address where you can find me either. My only purpose is to let you know why I do what I do. Here are a few of my previous comments:

Anonymous in USA "I cannot understand why a wife would want to fuck her husband after she had just fucked another man. She said she had the ultimate, a strange lover. Fucking her husband after that seems somewhat anti-climactic to me. Why would she want to fuck her him? Maybe, just to humiliate him? I don't know. In a real life situation the wife would probably have met him at the door and pecked him on the cheek telling him she was just too worn out; standing there in a cotton floor length robe, and told him she had been well fucked by a stranger and would see him in the morning."

Anonymous in USA "Garbage, if she wasn't satisfied, she should have left him. Otherwise, he should kill her cheating fucking whoring ass. He's a wimp, she's a whore, they should both die of aids."

Anonymous " Take pics, kick them both out, and get all your assets frozen. The woman you called your wife is now nothing more than used trash and will be used until she is a worthless used up piece of meat or worse yet totally drugged out and disease infected. Get out, get out now!"

It all began a number of years ago when I met my wife. She was pretty much my life. I worked hard in the factory to help make a good life for us. She worked in an insurance office as a receptionist and secretary. We met after a minor car accident when I went in to see my agent and there she was at the front desk.

She is a good-looking woman; especially when she is dressed up. Of course she always spends time in the morning getting ready for work. I'm getting a little ahead of myself here.

Anyway, I asked her out and she said okay. We went out and had dinner and it was the beginning of a romance between us. I can still remember the first time with her. We had been dating about a month, when she let me slip my hand into her panties; I almost shot off in my boxers. Feeling her soft wet mound and the wetness of her opening made me want her then and there in the lounge. I did finger her to a mini- orgasm in our booth.

Later we went to my apartment and fucked like bunnies. I have to say she was the best I ever had. We did everything, oral, doggie style, her on top, me on top, even tried a little anal. Of course this was over a period of time. We didn't do it all in one night.

We were both in our early twenties. In the beginning I wore condoms but after we became better acquainted and monogamous I started going bareback. Even though she was on the pill, she got pregnant... I don't know why. Maybe they weren't strong enough or maybe she forgot to take some. I really don't know but it didn't make any difference. I loved her and we got married.

Our daughter was born; a little over a year later we had a second child, another girl. Of course, we fell into the family life style that most people have. Our kids always came first and our love life was put somewhere on the back burner.

We still had sex but it wasn't like when we first got married. It was good but a lot less emotions. I understood that working and being a mother was a hard job. She didn't want to quit working. She said it was kind of her escape from always being home with the kids and of course the second income always helped.

My escape, was going on the computer at night and I started reading erotic-literature. I couldn't believe how turned on I got from reading some of these stories. I thought about all the fantasies these people had and some of them said they were based on real life experiences. I found myself going on the Internet more and more. I had to read these stories. I started thinking that I was the man in every story I read.

My fantasies started to get out of hand, I know that now. How fucking stupid I was. These stories seemed so real. I would go in the room and just look at my wife sleeping and picture her having sex with someone else. It started to become a fantasy to me. I couldn't really see it happening but I did have mixed emotions about it.

Don't get me wrong here. I wasn't the wimp type. It was like I was in charge and I decided who had sex with my wife, I was the decision maker. It was my fantasy and it would only happen when I made it happen. Jamee, my wife didn't have a say-so, it was my choice.

I read stories where the husband drugged his wife and let other men have her. I don't know why but this got me hard every time. It wasn't as though she knew what was happening. In my fantasy, she did respond to the sex she was having. Moaning and pushing her hips up and down trying to get that cock deeper in her. I guess deep down I didn't want her to like it better with someone else. Boy, I can't believe I was such an idiot.

When Jamee and I did go out with friends, which wasn't very often, we liked dancing and dinner. We were still young and often drank more than we should but I never drove drunk. We would name a dedicated driver. Once in awhile it was me. I actually liked the job of dedicated driver. Everyone got drunk and I had my sense about me and took extra liberties with a few wives. We had a young circle of friends who always kidded each other about sexual things. As far as I knew none of our friends were swingers or swappers.

I saw more than one hand squeeze my wife's butt when everyone was dancing. She would laugh and push it back up to her waist. I was doing my bit of feeling the girls too. As I said it was all in fun but now I realize that I let it go because it always happened in those stories I read, no harm no foul. If anyone would have touched my wife's ass before I started reading the stories, I know my jealousy would have put a stop to it.

I did mention it to Jamee one night while we were making love. She told me that it was nothing and that she saw me do a little squeezing of my own. I couldn't deny it and just let it go. I did wonder if she liked it or if it meant anything. These stories have a tendency to help warp the mind. I wondered if this was where my lifestyle changes began. If I would have stopped reading erotic stories or at least left them in fantasy land, maybe everything would have been different. 

I remember reading a story by DG Hear that started off 'What If'. It made sense to me but fantasies have a way of overriding comment sense. Here is an excerpt from that story.

"I'll start with the, 'What If'? We had three way sex?"

"Let's take three ways, with me, my wife and a third party. I can see where making it with two women would probably be a turn on for me. Wow! Just think, I can have two women do all kind of sexual things to me, I can be eating one of them out while the other is fucking me. That would be something, especially if the other woman was a looker; maybe a good friend of my wife, or even her sister. 

How about one of the women who work at my office? I could fuck and suck her without worry, because my wife would be right there joining me. Boy, could it get any better then that? Geez, might even get a little woman on woman action. Hope my wife wouldn't like it more with her then with me. Of course after we get done, there would be consequences to my actions.

What would my wife think? Would our married life change? Would it only be a one-time thing? Hmmm? Lots of questions would need answered.

"Now lets look at MMF, or in this case my wife with two men, one being me, the husband, and the other being a stranger or friend of mine. I can see where she might get a lot of enjoyment out of it. For me though, the thought of my wife fucking another guy might give me a hard on, but, the reality of seeing her with another man wouldn't sit so well with me.

"What if he was a better sexual partner than I was? What would she think of me afterwards? Would she want to see the guy alone some time without me around? How would it affect our marriage after that? Would it just be a one-time thing? If she really enjoyed it, would she want more? And with whom? Many, many questions would need answering.

"What If? We had group sex? We are at a party, I'm having sex with anyone of my choosing, my wife is doing the same. We both have a great time and fuck ourselves to complete satisfation. We don't have a sexual care in the world. I feel and fuck all the women I can, I climax a couple of times. (That's about all I'm good for)"

If only I would have listened or at least paid attention to what that author DG Hear had to say. No, instead I went with the authors who said, "Sex is fun, your wife will love you more for what you let her do", "You'll enjoy watching her get totally fucked by other men."

I remember the story by DG Hear saying: 

"I look across the yard and see my wife naked; two maybe even three guys are feeling her up. They all have hard cocks and want to place them somewhere. So they start spreading my wife's legs apart. She just gets in sexual mania heaven, kind of a never-never land, she has climax after climax. She even takes a cock in her mouth, though she generally isn't big on oral. Right now she just doesn't care; she just wants orgasms."

I was becoming obsessed with my wild fantasies. Why did I let these stories take over my mind? I honestly can't answer that. I don't know.

DG went on to say, "This idea is a wild fantasy in my mind, but I don't ever want to see it happen. The consequences are just too great and I know I would never want to see it. The aftermath would drive me crazy. Why would she ever want me if she could have this kind of sexual lifestyle? Why would she even need me around except to pay the bills and help raise the kids? No, this lifestyle is just not for me."

I remember him asking the question, "What happens after we go home? What happens to us in the real life now? Do we totally trust our spouses? Is life going to be normal for us any more? How about when we are out alone, we see the people we had sex with. Is everything still normal in our life or did we turn it all upside down for a night of sex? More and more questions would need to be answered."

I thought about what DG said about wife swapping. To be honest here, I would love to fuck another man's wife but I don't know about watching Jamee in real life fucking someone else, I just don't know. I, for some reason, don't think I could handle it. Why didn't I listen to my real conscience?

"What if? We tried wife swapping, I hear it goes on everywhere. What if? We decided to try it. We could find a nice clean couple, go to their house or a motel and just swap partners. I could take this man's wife and have my way with her. We could suck and fuck to our hearts' content. We don't have any worries because our partners are in the other room doing the same thing. Maybe this man's wife will do all the things for me that my wife won't. Wow! Wouldn't that be great? No problems, no worries, or are there?"

I remember thinking about Bob and Rachel at our last night out. It was Bob's hands roaming over Jamee's ass. Of course I was squeezing the hell out of Rachel's also. I even squeezed a little tit and rubbed her pussy through her clothes. She didn't seem to mind. She was pretty drunk. I often wonder how far it could have gone. Of course, if I laid Rachel, would Bob be fucking Jamee?

DG went on to explain why we shouldn't do it. "For starters, my wife is in the other room fucking and sucking some other guy. I don't like that idea. All the same questions come back to my mind. Does my wife think he's better looking then me? Is his dick bigger? For some reason that always seems to come up. Is she enjoying sex with him more then with me? Does he get her off better then I do? The questions go on and on. 

"No answers, just questions, the consequences are just too much to pay for a nights fuck of liberation with a stranger. Some may say I'm a male chauvinist; maybe I am but, I don't cheat on my wife because I don't want her having sex with other men. If that makes me a chauvinist, so be it. At least I'll be a happy married chauvinist."

Here's the part of DG's story I should have really paid attention to. 

"I believe fantasies in our sex lives can be good, but what after they are lived out. Do we just stop with the one fantasy? Or do we start living out others? Do all the people we have sex with outside of our marriage feel the same as we do, or are they just out there for their own pleasure?

"I don't know the answers to all these questions but, I'm sure many readers have done a lot of the above or at least would like to try some of them. I know I can get pretty aroused reading many of the erotic stories, but how will it affect my marriage if any of them are lived out?

"The, What if? That bothers me the most is "cuckolding". This I believe is when the woman goes out, finds a man to fuck her, in front of her husband, this in my opinion turns him into a wimp. 

"Here's the problem I have with this: What if my wife tried this? I tell my wife that I want her to have sex with another man so I can get excited watching her. I tell her to find a man who is better looking then I am, more then likely younger. He has to have a body like a god, with six-pack abs and a gigantic cock that she could hardly get her hand around. He has to be able to have multiple orgasms and great staying power. Then I tell my wife that I want her to give herself totally and completely to this man so I can get off.

"I want her to give him oral sex, better then she has ever given me, I want him to do the same for her till she has an orgasm. Then I want her to take him in her pussy, which only I have been in, (or maybe a few lovers I don't know about) and ride him like there is no tomorrow. After multiple orgasms, I want her to take that big cock that she is worshipping and put it in her ass, a place where she doesn't much care for me to be. Have some more orgasms, look at me during all this and tell me how much she loves me and what a wonderful husband I am.

"Maybe next time he can bring some of his friends with him and they all can enjoy her, while she enjoys them. All this time I will sit there and masturbate while listening to her tell me what a wonderful, understanding, loving, husband she is married too. 

"What kind of a man, husband, even father is this kind of person? Why would any woman want to be married to a gutless, wimp like this? It's got to be the money and support. She can do what she wants sexually and probably does anything else she wants while this sorry excuse for a human being sits there and says, 'yes honey' and jacks off."

These thoughts were constantly on my mind. I would read these fucking stories, in every sense of the word and think about my wife doing the same thing. The more I read, the more I fantasized. A vicious circle that I couldn't or wouldn't stop.

I began having fantasies while Jamee and I were making love. I started talking to her and trying to get answers to get me more aroused. I began with talk like, "Damn Honey, you are one great fuck. Does it feel good? Are you enjoying it?"

She would answer, "Oh Jerry, it does feel good, just fuck me Honey."

I remember during our lovemaking telling her how her body turned me on. I asked her if she got a lot of looks at work. At first she didn't answer and after I asked a couple of times she said, "Sometimes she gets compliments."

A few days later we were at it again; this was getting to be a lot of fun. This time while I was eating her out and rubbing her tits, I dropped a little fantasy and said damn, I wish I had two more hands so I could do all these things at the same time. I said maybe I ought to get someone to help me out. 

She said, "What do you mean Honey," while she was breathing hard.

I said, "Another man could rub and suck these tits for me while I work harder on this pussy." I said, "Would you like that?"

She was a little startled and said, "You're all I need Honey."

I replied, "I know that, but as a fantasy wouldn't you like it if you could have your pussy eaten and fucked and at the same time have your tits being sucked on? 

She said, "Oh God, of course it would feel wonderful... but I would never do it." 

I could feel her pussy really get wet and hot after I said these things, that's just something you can't hide. So instead of fucking her I just kept eating and tonguing her till she had an orgasm. I can't remember the last time I made her cum that way. I did end up sticking my dick in her because I had to come also. 

After that every time we made love I would mention the fantasy of the extra guy. Most of the time I had him eating her out while I played with her tits and kissing her.

She actually started to get into the fantasy and told the man (which of course was me) to eat that pussy. She would orgasm most of the time just from the oral sex. I always got my fuck in afterwards and didn't usually have to worry about her having a climax, since she got it while being eaten out. Once in a while she had two, but most of the time just the one.

It was time for a little more fantasy. 

When she was in deep concentration, saying things like, "Eat my pussy, eat my pussy." I would respond by saying, "Who do you want eating your pussy?" 

She said, "What do you mean Jerry?"

I said, "The man eating your pussy has to have a name. Who is it? Who's eating that pussy while I'm sucking these tits?" 

"I don't know, anybody you want, Honey, I don't care. Just make love to me."

I wanted her to say another man's name; why I didn't know. These damn stories make you think of all kinds of shit. Of course it was still only a fantasy. Maybe that's why it was so hot.

Since I brought all this fantasy into our lovemaking it was almost like old times. We would put the girls to bed and head to our bedroom and make love; of course it was more raw sex than love. 

We had a lot of friends we kidded around with. I, for some reason, always brought up Bob. I think it was because I saw him grab her ass at the lounge one night. So, I decided to make Bob the extra man in our fantasy bed.

One night as I was fingering her, I asked her if it felt good.

"Oh, it feels real good," she answered.

"Jamee, pretend I'm Bob tonight and tell me what you want."

She wasn't talking so I asked her questions, "Hi Jamee, I'm Bob. Do you want me to eat your pussy?"

She was getting hot and responded, "Oh Bob, stick your tongue in and suck me off."

I licked and sucked her pussy. "Do you want my cock in you Jamee?"

"Yes, fuck me."

"Who am I, Jamee? Tell me who you want to fuck you?" I asked.

"You're Bob and I want you to fuck me. Fuck me now! Put your cock in me and make me come," said Jamee.

She had one of the biggest orgasms ever. The fantasy fuck talk really works. I came as hard as I ever had. Now I was a little afraid; afraid I might be pushing Jamee too far into the fantasy world.

Our fantasy fucks went on for a month or two. I did use different guys' names. I was torn between wanting to see it happen and afraid that it could. The damn stories half took over my mind,

I switched name to a guy she said came on to her at work. His name was Jim. So the next time we were having sex, was a little surprised and said, "Tell Jim what you want him to do." 

She said, "Lick my pussy Jim, and make me cum." The next thing I knew she had the biggest orgasm so far, spewing juices into my face, I loved it. 




Anonymous



I looked at her and asked her if she wanted me to fuck her? 

She said, "Fuck me hard, baby", and then again, "Fuck me hard." 

"Who am I baby? Who do you want to fuck you hard?"

"You Jim, you fuck me hard." I did just that and she did come again.

After our last round of sex, Jamee said she wanted to talk to me. She told me it turned her on while we were having sex but it bothered her afterwards. She wanted me to know that she was doing it because I asked her too. She didn't really want to make love with anyone but me.

As I told you earlier I know at parties and dances she probably got felt up, kissed a few people, probably teased and flirted. But, more than likely stopped before going too far if someone tried to feel her up she wouldn't tell me about it; I know her, she would take care of the problem herself. She was that kind of woman.

I told her I didn't want her to have sex with anyone else either. I don't want to see her with another man but, in a fantasy, it's a little different knowing it is not going to happen.

It was about a month later that Jamee came home and said we were invited to Jim's thirtieth birthday party. His wife Linda stopped by and invited most of their office friends. It was going to be on Saturday and that they had a pool so most everyone was going swimming.

Linda was a nice looking woman also. We didn't go out with them very often. Mostly it would only be company parties and such. Linda was also a little flirty and did her share of sexual innuendoes. As with most of our friends we just wrote it up to kidding around. What I didn't know until much later was that Jim tried to put the make on Jamee a number of times. She never told me about it; she told me later she was always able to handle it.

The party was nice. A lot of booze was flowing. I drank way too much. What I didn't know until later was that Jamee was drinking too much also. We had on our swimsuits the same as most of the people there. Jamee had on a nice two piece. I didn't think it was over revealing for a two-piece but she did look damn good in it.

Throughout the night I noticed that whenever I wasn't with Jamee, Jim was there. As I said, I found out later he had been hitting on her the whole night. It was getting late and the party was starting to break up. I had drunk too much and went inside and sat on the couch for a few minutes to wait for Jamee. I didn't realize it but dozed off.

When I woke, I was a bit disoriented. The room was dark but I could hear voices coming from one of the bedrooms. I wondered where everyone had gone, especially Jamee. I stood up and walked toward the bedroom, wobbling a little from all the booze. There was my sweet loving wife on her back with Jim's cock stuck in her.

I have to tell you this and I really mean it. It was not a sexual sight to see my wife with another man's cock in her. It had to be the worst picture I could imagine. All those stories that said I would get a hard on or be turned on were full of shit. My stomach started to churn at the sight of my wife lying on the bed saying more. "I want more."

I was still pretty much drunk but I staggered into the room and got in two sucker punches to Jim's head before he turned and pulled his cock out of my wife. He jumped off the bed with his cock dangling and caught me a good one in my stomach with his foot. 

I started vomiting right then and there on the end of Jim's bed. I heard Jamee scream out, "God no, what have I done?"

A number of things happened at the same time. Jim just stood back, standing there naked, while I was puking on his bed and floor. Jamee was sitting on the bed naked and crying and Linda came running into her bedroom asking what the hell was going on?

She had taken a few friends home and returned sooner than Jim had expected her. She looked at her husband and asked him what the hell he had done. It didn't take but a few seconds to see what had happened. She went into her bathroom and handed me a towel. "Take your fucking slut wife and get the hell out of my house." Jamee was still crying and quickly put her bathing suit back on.

I told Linda how sorry I was and she just said, "Get that fucking bitch out of my house. You can keep the damn towel." I walked out of the room and Jamee went to say something to Linda but she wasn't listening. We heard her screaming at her husband as we walked out the front door.

We got in the car and headed home. I couldn't say a word to her. She cried and tried to apologize all the way home. I wasn't listening. My mind was mush right now. When we got home I went down the basement and slept on a bed we kept down there. I told Jamee we would talk in the morning.

I couldn't sleep I just lay there and tried to figure out what to do next. Jamee was the cheater but I really have to wonder how much of the situation I had created with my stupid fantasizing. Was our marriage over? Could I forgive her? Should I forgive her? What about our jobs, family and friends? Now I realized the moral that DG Hear wrote in his story. Cheating or affairs affect everything and everyone in our life. A hell of a price to pay for some sex!

Chapter 2: The aftermath of cheating.

I got up the next morning and cleaned up. I put the coffee on and waited for Jamee to get up. I had heard her crying most of the night and I doubt if she got much sleep either. I heard her going into the bathroom and my stomach began to churn. I was a bundle of nerves. When she came out of the bathroom, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down.

Looking at her was hard. I knew I should start the conversation so I asked her straight out, "Why did you do it?"

"It just happened. I was drunk and it just happened. I love you Jerry, I wish it hadn't happened but it did. We have to move on now," replied Jamee.

"Bullshit! It doesn't just happen. He doesn't just take you into his bedroom; just undress you and stick his dick in you. You could have stopped him at any time. When I walked in the room he wasn't raping you. You were giving yourself freely to him." 

She started to cry lightly. "He was hitting on me and I drank a lot."

"Bullshit Jamee, I don't want excuses, I want answers. I want to know everything if we are to stay married."

I know I had a real problem here. I was the one who put all those ideas in her head. I knew what she did was partially a result of what I half conditioned her to do. Now I had to wonder if I could live with the results of her infidelity and my actions. 

I think that was the first time that she realized that our marriage might be over, that I might leave. "What? You're thinking of leaving me. Jerry, we can work through this," said Jamee.

"Then I need the truth. How long have you been seeing him?"

"This was the only time that it had ever gone that far," replied Jamee.

"So, you've been with him before? How many other guys did you fuck behind my back?"

"No, it wasn't like that. I've never fuck... made love to anyone but you. You have to believe me. It was the only time. Jim would hit on me at work. You know, ask for dates or pat my behind. He would say a lot of sexy things to me about my body or how he would like to get me alone for a half hour, things like that."

"Was he the only one to do that? You know, talk sexy to you," I asked.

"No, you know that. All our friends kid around like that. It's never meant anything. Guys hit on girls all the time but we just laugh it off. If I'm to be honest with you, I like to be looked at; I like compliments as much as the next girl. I know that you talk like that to other women too. Does that mean you wanted to fuck them?"

"You went further than talk. You were fucking him! Now lets talk about that."

Jamee was holding back her crying as best she could as she tried to explain what happened. "We arrived at the party and as I said, I had been drinking too much. It's not an excuse but it is a fact that alcohol lowers the inhibitions of people. Jim was talking sex to me all night. Things like how nice I looked and he talked about my butt. He tried touching me a few times when we were in the pool."

"Did he succeed," I asked.

Jamee lowered her head, "Yes, but I thought it was all in fun. I started thinking about how we used him in our fantasy. So, yes, he touched me. I was getting a little turned on thinking about what you and I do and it started to go too far with Jim. I pushed his hand away when I realized he was fingering me. I was still drinking and you were getting drunk too. One time when Jim came back to me in the water we were joking about having sex. I laughed and told him about our sexual fantasy."

"You what? You told him that you used his name in our lovemaking? How stupid could you get? Why would you tell him such a thing?"

Again, I realized I was the one who started it. I was only reaping what I sowed. I knew I was blaming her when half the guilt was mine. I guess I was trying to deny my guilt and face the truth. But still, I didn't think it was something she should have shared.

"It just came out. He laughed and started in touching me again. It felt good. You had disappeared, I looked up for you but you weren't there. I was getting turned on thinking about what we do in our fantasies. Most everyone had left the party and Linda told Jim she would be back in about an hour. She was going to take some people home. She didn't drink that night for that reason. Jim offered but she told him he had too much to drink. 

"When she left, Jim was back on me again, right away. It was only me and him. You weren't around. He kept touching me and fingering me the same way you do. He told me we just had a few minutes till Linda got back and we could turn that fantasy into a reality. I don't know why I did it but I went into his bedroom and, ... well, you know the rest."

"No, tell me," I demanded.

"Jerry, please, you know what happened."

"Say it, tell me what he did to you." I wasn't getting off on this, in fact I had tears in my eyes. I wanted her to admit to everything she did."

"We walked into the house and Jim saw you asleep on the couch and laughed. He took me by the hand into his bedroom and undid my top and started sucking my breasts. It felt good; I can't deny that. He slipped off my bottoms and I lay on his bed. Jerry, that's enough, please."

"Finish the damn story; I want to hear it all. How you cheated on me and made me a wimp."

"God, Jerry, you're no wimp. You know that," said Jamee.

"Just finish the damn story," I replied.

"As I lay on the bed, Jim started eating me out, just like you always say in the fantasy. I was thinking about the three of us while he was doing it. How you always talk about it. I was getting hotter when he stopped eating me and he mounted me. He put his cock in me. He felt good but not like when you do it."

"I heard you yell out give me more. Sounds like you enjoyed it," I said.

"I was getting fucked for Pete's sake, of course it felt good but with you it always felt so much better. It's why I kept saying more. I was thinking about us together and I wanted more, you always gave me more. I never did come. That's when you came in the room. When you hit Jim, my whole married life flashed before me and I realized what might happen. You aren't going to leave me are you, Jerry? I made a big mistake. I regret it but I can't undo it. Please forgive me," asked Jamee.

I loved her, I really did. I loved my girls and I wondered how this situation would affect our family. I looked over at Jamee and all I could see is her fucking another man, fucking Jim.

I know Jamee cheated but how much did I contribute to it? It all began with what I probably put into her head. I guess I just didn't want to face the truth. I was the biggest part of the fault here. The stupid ass fantasies and stories where every man wants to see his wife get fucked while he jacks off in the corner. God, how stupid can a person be. How stupid was I? Now I had to deal with the after effects of our actions. I knew I needed time away from her. I had to work this out in my mind. I created this situation and didn't know how to fix it. I continually pictured her in bed with another man.

"Jamee, I love you. I love you more than anything but this tore my insides out. I can't look at you without picturing you on your back, getting fucked by Jim. I do feel that some of the blame is mine because of the fantasies but you acted them out. I have to get away. Right now I can't live in the same house with you."

Jamee was crying and kept telling me how sorry she was. I packed my bags. I called my parents and asked them if I could move back home for a while. I just told them that Jamee and I had some marital problems to overcome and I didn't want to stay at our house any more. Jamee got dressed and went over to get our girls. When she got back I was gone. 

Over the next few months I would stop over at the house most everyday to see my daughters. It was hard leaving them to go to my temporary home.

They were four and five years old. I wanted to be with them as much as possible. Jamee was always there and asked me when I was coming home. She always looked nice and I missed her so much. It was just that I couldn't come to the grips of my own reality. I always pictured her on the bed fucking Jim. I just couldn't let it go.

We had a good relationship other than not living together. We kept a good relationship together mostly for the kids but we still loved each other. We would take the kids someplace almost every weekend, parks, beach, the zoo, movies. We did it all as a family, except I went to another home every night. I began crying a lot after leaving my family. I knew I couldn't go on forever like this. I had to do something.

Before I tell you what I decided to do, I will do my best to update you on what happened after I left the house. I moved in as I mentioned with my parents. Jamee's parents live about sixty miles away. All she had here were her friends. Most of her friends stuck by her. Of course the rumors were circulating and were somewhat true.

After we left Jim and Linda's place they got into a big argument. I guess this wasn't the first time that Jim played around. Linda threw him out and applied for a divorce. Any mutual friends that Linda and Jamee had sided with Linda. The wives didn't want their husbands anywhere around Jamee. This crowd labeled her as a home wrecker. She pretty much hung out with Rachel and some of our joint friends. She told me in little talks that we had that she didn't joke around like we used to.

At work Jim started to hit on her hot and heavy and also told a few of the other agents how hot Jamee was and that she broke up his marriage. She told me that she told him off a dozen times and told him to leave her alone. When he started calling her at the house she filed a harassment suit against him and two other agents. It got so bad that she quit her job. Her attorney said she had a good case because she recorded the harassment messages after the first incident.

She quit her job and now works with Rachel at one of the local department stores. I have talked to Rachel and she told me that Jamee really loves me and admits she made a huge mistake. She also told me that Jamee as been asked out a number of times but always refuses. She was hoping that someday I would forgive her.

I stopped by the insurance office where Jim worked. I waited for him to leave the office and approached him.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asked. "Want another beating?"

"I'm not drunk now. I'm only going to say this once. Leave Jamee the fuck alone. The next time you bother her I will come back and kill you. This isn't a threat; it's a fact. You messed up my life and I would have no problem going to jail for killing you."

Jim knew I was very serious. I guess I was one of those guys that you just knew to leave alone when I was in certain moods. I meant every word I said to him and even showed him my pistol. He backed up and got in his car and drove away. He never said a word and he never bothered Jamee again.

I applied for a dissolution of our marriage right after the incident happened. I had until a certain date to change my mind. I was in total turmoil and actually talked to a psychiatrist about my problems. Jamee was happy that I was seeing a doctor. She figured that was the first stage in our getting back together.

I stopped by to see her two days before the dissolution was to take place. I asked to talk to her and she said she would take the girls to Rachel's so we could be alone.

"Are you going to stop the dissolution and come back to me and the girls? You know I've never stopped loving you and regret everything I did. There's nothing I can do to change it. It's all up to you now. I don't want a divorce. I want you back Jerry." She had tears in her eyes as she spoke.

"Jamee, I'm going through with the divorce. We need a new start."

"No, I'm trying Jerry, I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." She was crying out loud now.

"Please listen, I talked to the doctor and I have an idea. You tell me what you think."

"I don't understand. You just said you're divorcing me," replied Jamee.

"I want us to start out new. I want to get the divorce and move up to Ravenna where your parents live. We can get remarried there. I want us to write our own vows and both sign them and promise to live by them. I want to put our past into the past and start anew in a town where no one knows our history. I asked at the factory and I'm transferring up there the week after next. If you want to go..."

"Of course I want to go; I'm madly in love with you. I'll go anywhere you want as long as we can be a family again." Jamee was crying full tilt now.

"Do you want to make love to me now?" asked Jamee. "The kids are at Rachel's and I want you so bad."

"No, you'll have to wait the same as me. We will get married in two weeks if you want to and we will be together again," I replied. "We can kiss though," I said as I took her into my arms.

God she was so soft and warm. I wanted her so bad but it would just have to wait. I had to start anew. We went over to Rachel and Bob's to get the kids. When they saw us together they came running up.

"Daddy, Daddy, you're back. Are you going to stay with us now? Why is mommy crying?" the kids asked.

"I'm happy sweetheart. Pretty soon we are going to be a whole family again. Now you kids go play so Daddy and I can talk to Rachel."

"So you're not getting the divorce? I knew you two could work it out," said Rachel.

Jamee looked at Rachel and said, "We are getting a divorce Rachel."

"No, no you can't you two belong together. You have to work it out," said Rachel.

"Rach, I said. "This is going to be hard for you to understand. I have to start over again. I'm going through with the divorce but we are going to get remarried and start over with a new slate. Most people won't understand but it's something I have to do. We will be moving to Ravenna and starting over. You and Bob are our best friends. You are always welcome to come see us. It's just over an hour away."

"I think I do understand," said Rachel. "Bob and I have been talking and we decided that things were getting a little out of hand with us too. I think we all learned a good lesson before it went too far with us."

Bob looked over at Jamee. "I'm not allowed to touch that cute butt of yours anymore. I think I'm going to miss that," he said trying to put a little humor into the conversation.

Jamee smiled at Bob and said, "You're right! The only person who gets to play with my ass will be my new husband. I won't let him touch it till we get married either." We all started laughing.

"Seriously guys, I want to thank you for standing by Jamee and me during this time. It meant a lot to us."

"What are real friends for? We'll always be there for you two and the girls. Don't forget that visiting goes both ways. We'll expect to see you whenever you're in town," remarked Rachel.




Anonymous



After leaving Bob and Rachel's place we went and explained it all to my parents. They didn't understand getting divorced and remarried but they stood beside us. They were good parents. They said they would miss seeing the girls but would get up there to see them as often as possible.

I never did tell them what caused the divorced between Jamee and I. Did they know? Maybe, but they never brought it up with me. They always told me they love Jamee and hoped we could work things out.

I had the next two weeks off work. I used them to find a place for us to live. I told Jamee I would be going up Monday to look around and see what I could find.

"You're not going without me Big Boy," smiled Jamee. "We'll all go together. I called Mom and told her of our plans. She didn't understand letting the divorce proceed and then getting remarried but she's happy we're staying together. She said we belong together. Everyone says that you know? I've always known it."

Epilogue:

We did get remarried. We wrote our own vows together and are doing our best to live by it. The local pastor agreed to marry us. Everything felt so clean, so new. I remember Jamee telling me that she didn't understand going through the whole marriage process when I suggested it, but now she felt it. It was like a new beginning, all our mistakes were in that first marriage. This time we will try avoiding some of the pitfalls.

Our new wedding night was one of the greatest nights of my life. Jamee and I spent the night at a local motel and made love for hours. There is nothing better than having sex with the person you truly love.

All that happened two years ago. We are as happy as a family of five can be. Ryan (our son) was the result of our all night love making on the night of our second wedding. For now Jamee isn't going to work outside the home. She said she has her hands full with the three kids with two of them in school. She also has family and friends around.

Jamee got a settlement from her harassment suit against the agents and the insurance company. Of course they wanted to settle out of court and didn't want any publicity that would hurt their business. Each of the three agents had to pay her five thousands dollars. The company paid her an additional fifty thousand dollars. She put the money in a savings program for now. It's in both of our names.

I'm a happy camper too. Most people who heard we got divorced and remarried think it was weird but Jamee and I know it was the right thing to do. We now talk over our problems and solve them together. For those who are wondering ... we still have some fantasy sex. We do understand fantasy from reality. 

I still read erotic stories now and then, as a lot of authors know. If the husbands are wimps or the wives are total sluts, I still leave my comments. I read one where the husband set up his wife to have sex with black men. I had to ask myself, can this man really love his wife?

Here was my comment:

Anonymous "Another original story of a white man doing nothing while his wife fucks a big black dick. Not to mention forgiving her and setting it up. I swear, the only men like this in the world must be the ones who write the erotic stories about it. You're sick man, get help."

I read another story about a man and woman who wanted to live out a fantasy. He wanted to watch her having sex with another man. They thought it would spice up their marriage. The story explained how they went about it and the wife told her how great it was and what a wonderful husband he was for letting her do it. Of course he was all turned on watching his wife get fucked.

I was starting to write a comment when Jamee came into the room.

"What are you reading? I see your getting ready to comment again. Mind if I read it?"

She sat down and read the short story. She was shaking her head back and forth. "What stupid people. The people reading this have no idea the problems this would cause. I'm going to leave the comment."

Anonymous

"To those reading this story. Fantasies should be just that 'Fantasies'. Never let those thoughts creep into your real life. I should know, I almost lost my family because of it. Find new ways of making love that you and your husband can both enjoy. Don't be afraid to try new things with him. You'll be glad you did."

Signed, A very happy housewife.

A lot of the time Jamee and I would read stories together. We read one by Jake Rivers, called, Dying Embers. After we read it, Jamee got excited with a new idea. 

"Jerry, instead of just reading these stories, we should write something ... or at least try it. We know all the problems with doing the wrong thing so we should write about the good stuff, the romance that love and good communication can bring. We'll start with telling our own story so people can know the truth about fantasies vs. reality.

"Let's do it Jerry! We will need to get a userid so we can submit stories, how about MAJA for Jerry and Jamee Always? And when we make comments we won't have to use that silly Anonymous id anymore."

We did just what Jamee suggested and this was our first story. I hope it makes you think twice before cheating or sharing your spouse.

*

Thank you for reading my story

Comments are always welcome and appreciated

DG Hear

Note: Excerpt's from my story 'What If?' are from my own writing. I gave myself permission to use it. The anonymous feedbacks were made up by me for this my story even though I do receive similar feedback.



Anonymous



My eyes shot fully open as I felt the head of his cock pop into my ass. I heard a loud moan as I felt him slip slowly, inch by agonizing inch, into me. It took me a moment to realize that it was me moaning as my eyes focused on the water in the clean, white bowl in front of my face.

I had snapped into full consciousness suddenly, but it still took a few moments for my brain to slip completely into gear and ask the most important questions: where the hell am I? Who is attached to the baseball bat sized cock that's now starting to slowly fuck me?

The first question was relatively easy. I've never been fucked over a toilet before, but I've certainly used enough toilets to recognize the porcelain bowl I was leaning over. I'm not at home because my bathroom has a carpet floor, and I can feel that I'm kneeling on tile. Besides, I'm reasonably certain that I'm in a public toilet as I can feel the part in the front of the toilet seat digging into my stomach. Does anyone have a u-shaped toilet seat at home?

I still don't remember how I got here, my head is screaming, and the world is swimming in front of my eyes. Still, I pick my head up for a moment to look and see who is behind me. I catch a glimpse of metal piping in front of my face, and graffitied, beige partition to my left. Definitely a public toilet. But, when I turn around, all I see is a huge, calloused hand. He had quickly moved his hand off my hip, and he pushed my face back into the toilet bowl before I could get a look at him.

I grunted as he slammed into me even harder now. His right hand still on my hip; his left hand now firmly holding my head on the toilet. Thankfully, he seemed content to let me rest my head on my forearms on the back of the toilet seat. The limited view I'd had of his hand, and the force that he was fucking me with left little doubt that he was strong enough to put my face in the water if he decided to do so.

I remember heading out to a bar earlier this evening. The bar was a couple blocks over from my hotel, but it had looked interesting enough to try having a couple drinks at. Besides, I never like hanging out in the hotel bar. You never know who's around, and if I do get lucky, I don't want word to filter back to the office that I'm using these trips to meet men.

The bar was dimly lit with a few tvs in the corners playing various sporting events. I remember picking a seat at a table in the corner, and sitting back with a bottle of beer to watch a football game. That's where my memory starts to break down.

I remember being approached by a tall, muscular guy with short, dark, spiky hair. He was wearing a nice, blue striped shirt and khaki pants. He was exactly my type, physically, and I remember the impression that he was very friendly. I only remember bits and pieces of our conversation, but I definitely remember wondering why he was making such an effort to get me drunk as he bought shot after shot of tequila. I remember admiring his ass as he walked back to the bar for more shots one time, and wondering to myself how much longer he'd wait to invite me somewhere more quiet.

I hear myself moaning again as he's fucking me. The water in the toilet is starting to slosh around he's pounding into me so hard. He's not moving quickly, just incredibly forcefully. He pulls out until just the very tip of his cock is still into me. Then, he slams into me in one move until I can feel his pubes grinding into my ass. He pushes so hard into me that I get the feeling that he would push his cock right out my belly button if he could. He twists his hips around a few times, grinding himself into me as hard as he could, then slowly, so incredibly slowly, he pulls out until just the tip was left in me again. He was constantly changing his rhythm. Sometimes I would gasp in surprise as he slammed back into me before he was done pulling all the way out. Other times, he would leave just the tip in me for so long that I couldn't resist whimpering a little, wanting him back inside me.

I certainly couldn't complain about his technique as he fucked me. He felt incredible. Now, if only I could remember who it was, I could really enjoy this. Well, I would enjoy this if I knew who he was, and if we were somewhere safer. I didn't enjoy the thought of being caught like this in an unfamiliar bar that hadn't even given off a vibe as a gay bar, though given the circumstances, some gay men obviously hooked up here. More importantly, I tried to keep my mind off the activity that usually took place on the toilet that my face was now mashed into. I've bent over a counter once or twice before, but never a toilet. I was usually so much smarter and more cautious about the guys that I let get into my pants.

I wouldn't mind so much if I knew that it was the man in the blue shirt from the bar. I was certainly ready to let him fuck me even without him getting me this drunk. Or had i been drugged? I've never had my memory this trashed before. Was it Steve? No, Paul sounded right. Maybe Mike? God, I have no idea what his name is, if it's even him. I felt like such a slut.

I felt his right hand running up my naked back as he fucks me, and I suddenly wonder where my clothes are. I can still feel my socks on my feet and up my calves, but I don't think that I am wearing anything else. I don't even feel my shoes. I gasp as he pounds into me particularly violently, and I struggle to remember what happened to my tie. I liked that tie.

I don't remember anything between doing tequila shots with... let's call him Steve... and having his cock in my ass. Based on the slight taste left in my mouth, I assume I sucked him at some point tonight. At least I hope it was the guy fucking me and I haven't acted like even more of a slut than I realize.

Shit, I hope he's wearing a condom. I don't let guys fuck me bare, but I don't even remember him taking my pants off, I certainly don't remember getting a condom onto him. I've never hoped that a guy went through my pockets without my permission before, but if he had, he at least would have found the condom I always keep in my back pocket when I go out.

He's been fucking me for what feels like hours now. He must be close. How the hell am I going to get him to pull out. It's still risky, but it's at least slightly better than letting him cum inside me bare, isn't it?

I felt his weight shift as he put both his hands on my shoulders and leaned down over me. He wasn't really fucking me anymore. More like grinding into my ass, his cock all the way inside me, as he leaned down far enough to whisper into my ear. I could feel his hot breathe on my cheek as I hear, "does it turn you on to know that I'm going to cum in your ass?"

I did my best to shake my head. I was still too drunk to trust that words would come out properly.

He chuckled in my ear for a moment as he continued to grind into me. "Oh really? So this slut does have boundaries after all. You're willing to bend over in a public toilet for a guy you just met, but you draw the line at letting me cum inside you?"

His cock picked that moment to find a particularly good spot in my ass, and I just moaned.

"Ok then, so you don't want me cumming inside you." He pulled out and slammed all the way into me. "Does it turn you on to know that you don't have a choice?"

I whimpered as I realized that he was right. He felt like a bodybuilder. I probably didn't stand a chance under the best of circumstances. There was no way I could fight him off from this position while I was still so drunk or drugged or whatever.

"Please?" I managed to croak out.

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as he just laughed again and resumed fucking me.

"Please." He just kept fucking me. Faster now, clearly getting ready to cum. What would get his attention? "I... want to feel you... on my ass. Please"

He just laughed again. "Pull out of this sweet ass just to cum up your back? Not a shot."

Terror swept through me. Sure, maybe I've been a bit slutty over the years, but I always play safe. I'm obsessive about not letting guys into me unless they're wearing a condom. I know one time is probably no big deal, and he's already in me bare, but I was drunk and emotional. I slumped down into the toilet, going limp. "Please," I almost sobbed. "Anywhere else."

My heart leapt as I heard, "fine. I wouldn't want to be accused of forcing you or anything." My heart quickly sunk back down as his next words came out, "I guess I could be convinced to pull out if you really like to take it on your face."

I hate cum on my face. It always feels so demeaning, and it's impossible to clean off. The most recent guy who'd done it to me had shot straight into my eyes. It burned like hell. Asshole. I can't let... Steve... cum inside me bare though. A little pain and humiliation is better than HIV or hepatitis.

"Fine, yes. You can cum on my face."

He didn't even break his rhythm as he kept fucking me. "Like I said, I can be convinced if you really like it on your face. You'll have to do better than that."

He was only pulling part way out now before grinding back into me. He was fucking me fast and hard, and his breathing was getting heavier and heavier. I was running out of time. "Please sir. I want to watch you cum. I want to see that massive cock finishing for me. I want to feel you all over my face. I would do anything to feel your cum on my face."

The world was still fuzzy and swimming in front of my eyes, but the thought of him cumming in me bare was sobering me up fast. The horror of having to explain a positive test to my wife was like a shot of ice water directly to my brain. I can understand how people lift cars off of babies now.

He didn't answer me. He just grabbed my hair and pulled me back off the toilet. I felt my ass gape as he pulled out. He used my hair as a handle to spin me around and put me on my knees in front of him. I felt the cold porcelain of the front of the toilet digging into my back. The tiles under my knees now damp from my sweat. 

I was face to face with his penis. I caught a glimpse of the odd, cherry red color of his cock before my eyes slammed shut. I was still too drunk for my stomach to handle that spin maneuver, so I shut my eyes and concentrated all my effort on not puking on this guys crotch.

My drunken brain finally registered what that bizarre color on his cock had been as I felt him drop the used condom on my forehead. I didn't even care about how I was going to have to clean my hair; all I could feel was the slimy part of the condom draped down the middle of my forehead. He's been essentially raping a guy drugged or drunk into submission in a public toilet, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he's an asshole. At least he wasn't in me bare like I'd feared.

I hear him grunt loudly, simultaneous with a thick rope of cum splattering up over my nose, my right eyelid, and surely back into my hair. He grunts again. Another rope of cum lands further down the right side of my face, on my cheek and forehead. By the fourth or fifth grunt, I feel the tip of my cock running along my upper lip as he gives me a cum moustache. Again, asshole.

He pushed his cock between my lips as much as he could. I knew what he wanted, but I was done pleasuring this ass. His cum is cooling all over my face and in my hair, I can't open my eyes because there's cum on my eyelids, I feel his slimy, used condom across my forehead, and all I can taste on his cock is the latex and lube from the condom. He's lucky I'm avoiding puking on him, there's no way I'll be sucking his cock any more. 

He gives up after a minute, and I hear the stall door open. I reach up to rub the cum out of my eyes so I can open them, but he is gone by the time I can see anything. He didn't even say goodbye. I feel so... used.

I shakily get to my feet, and I can see myself through the open stall door in the mirror above the sinks. I'm a mess. Naked, with cum all over my face, and an obviously used, cherry red condom draped across my forehead and back into my hair. My ass is sore and still gaping slightly, my face feels revolting, and I just want to go home.

I look around for my clothes and find my white undershirt, my grey pants, and my black shoes scattered all over the floor of the bathroom. I have no idea how we didn't get caught with the amount of noise we were making and my clothes all over the place. The pockets have been emptied on my pants. My cell phone, wallet, and keys were all gone. I didn't even care at this point. I just wanted to go home. My nice shirt, boxers, and tie were nowhere to be seen. I really liked that tie.

I did my best to use the sink and paper towels to wipe the cum off my face. I got my face reasonably clean, but my hair was hopeless. I just had to move quickly through the bar and back to my hotel room to get the rest of the way cleaned up. The bar was dark, and it must be night time outside by now, so I had some hope. The brightly lit hotel lobby would be humiliating, but there wasn't much I could do about that at this point.

I steadied myself against the door for a moment. Then, I pulled it open and stepped out into the bar. Immediately, I could see that something was wrong.

The man in the blue shirt was nowhere to be seen. No one else was at the bar or at the tables either. All the tvs were off, and the place was almost deserted. There were two hulking bouncers standing at the door with their arms crossed. Between the bouncers was a large, older white guy. Where the bouncers looked like pure muscle, he looked like he hadn't seen a gym a day in his life. He was probably 6 inches shorter than the bouncers, but still taller than me. He glowered at me as I walked toward the door. 

My heart sunk lower and lower into my stomach as he stared me down. I knew what was coming, my face burning with shame. He just silently stared me down as I got closer and closer to him. He was rooted to the spot, not moving out of my way. I stopped, two feet away from him with no way to get by him and the bouncers. Then, I heard the two most terrifying words I've ever heard in my life.

"Have fun?"

I stared at his feet with no idea what to say. My ass still sore and the room still spinning from the drinks. I had cleaned myself as best as I could, but I still felt like I had hot cum all over my face as he stared at me. I had thrown the condom away, but I felt like I could still feel its slime cooling across my forehead.

"Nothing to say for yourself? A gay hooker's been working my bar for months now. Harassing my customers, fucking up my bathroom, getting me in trouble with the cops. You wouldn't have any idea about that either, would you?"

Hooker? Months? I've only been in town for a few days, and I certainly didn't get paid for what had happened back there. I looked at him and shakily said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really? So you weren't just fucking in my bathroom?"

I stared at his feet again, my face burning in shame. I mumbled something so incoherently and quietly that even I didn't know what I was trying to say. I flinched as his hand came out toward my face. He didn't hit me though. Instead, he reached a finger out and ran it along my hairline. When he pulled it back, we could both clearly see the glob of cum on the tip of his finger.

Each bouncer silently plopped a massive hand on each of my shoulders, and I fell to my knees in front of them. I could feel the tears running down my face as I looked up at what was clearly the owner from on my knees. He had his phone in his hand, dialing what I could only assume was the police.

"Please." I begged. "Please don't call the police."

The phone was at his ear. My life flashed before my eyes. My wife finding out, getting fired from my job, my friends and family hearing it reported that I was accused (even falsely) of being a prostitute. 

"Yes, this is Mr. O'Neil of O'Neil's bar and grill. I'd like to report that I've made a citizens arrest. Sure, I'll hold."

"Please," I sobbed. "I'll do anything."

The owner just raised his eyebrows at me as he reached to the front of his pants and lowered his zipper. The phone was still up to his ear as he said, "you have until I'm off hold to convince me."

I crawled across the floor to him and lowered his pants to his ankles. His hard cock fell out of his pants and onto my face. He tasted musky as I took him into my mouth as enthusiastically as I've ever sucked a cock in my life. He wasn't my type at all, and he smelled like he hadn't had a shower all day, but unemployment and divorce were even less my type.

I hadn't been sucking him for more than a few moments when I heard him on the phone again. "Yes? No, it looks like I actually don't have anything to report now. Yes, it looks like he's decided to pay up. I apparently just needed you to scare him a bit. Thanks for that. Oh yes, it looks like he has a long night ahead of him, but I think we'll be able to solve this as private citizens."

My heart sunk as I heard about my "long night." I just wanted to go home. I tried to concentrate on the cock in my mouth, but I couldn't help noticing the bouncers lowering the blinds and starting to rub their own crotches.

I heard him on the phone above me again after a long pause, and the gravity of my situation really began to hit home. "Yes, of course you can come by anytime tonight, officer. I'd be happy to have him do some work for you or any of your squad. Of course I'll call back if he decides to resist any more. Let me know when you're going to drop by, and I'll have him ready."

I tried to focus on the taste in my mouth, his gray pubic hair in front of my face, the bead of sweat starting to trickle down his inner thigh. Anything but the situation I was in.

I felt his hands on my head when he hung up the phone. "It looks like you've convinced me. You'll be repaying me and my staff for all the trouble you've caused. I'd move quickly too if I were you. I've heard that Officer Daniel and his squad can be quite vicious when they catch a whore like you. Do you understand?"

I tried to ignore the now naked bouncers on either side of me and the terrifying thought of what was in store for me as I redoubled my efforts on the owner's cock. 



Anonymous and Loving It



I'm much like any other 18 year old girl you might meet – ex private school, uni fresher, Papa is paying the bills, and life is generally pretty cool. I'm not spoilt, but I have been brought up to appreciate the better things in life and in the main get what I want.

Being pretty helps – Papa falls for the sweet eyelash fluttering routine every time. I've noticed that wearing something revealing seems to help. Not that he'd ever do anything, but I catch him sneaking a look at my ass or a down blouse nipple peak – oh and he loves me bringing my friends around or me bringing them along for a drink with him and his mates. He's a sweetie really, but he is still a man and I'm sure he is imagining slipping his hardening cock into some young piece of cunt when we tease him and them – I really don't mind. Most of them are lovely blokes with wives who milk them for everything and never put out in return. A little thrill doesn't hurt.

Anyway, back to me (as always!!) - I'm not tall, perhaps 5'3", but I'm petite, slim and if you follow the line of the blouse or the party dress that I wear at the weekend, and catch a glimpse behind that mass of brown hair, you will see a decent rack mounted on the tiniest of frames. I'm a 32C, but on me it looks like a good D cup. I love those girls and they do me proud!

Most of my friends are super cute too. It's a bit of a cliché but we seem to attract each other and well, the ugly ones seem to enjoy each other's company too. If you could see our Facebook pages they are typical of our age, all drinking and posing, daring each other to wear the raciest of dresses and show just enough to maintain our prized 'hot' status.

It's probably true that we are self-obsessed attention seekers. If I could be bothered to think about it long enough I'd probably agree. But then that introspection ain't much fun. We are all in it for what we can get out of it and University seemed to offer the perfect opportunity to really let our hair down.

I'm not sure any of us knew why we were excited about going there. There is like this two or three year build up as you try and pick the place that is the coolest for nights out, but the reality is we just didn't know. Again, I don't think any of us could be bothered to really think about the details – typical of the Now-generation, we would just expect it to be there when we got there.

I ended up at one of the northern city universities thanks to my distinctly average results (too much partying, not enough studying) along with a few of my pals, though on different courses. My scraping in meant my acceptance was late and I was forced to take digs with a bunch of strangers, though the room is solo and I do have an en-suite, so I'm totally self contained when I want to be. 

At first I was disappointed to be away from my mates 24/7, but after a week or two I began to enjoy mixing with other folk as well and then being able to hide away when me and my liver needed to chill out for a bit. It also means I do actually do some work, though the course is so easy and I have loads of time off to nip home, do sports or whatever.

A couple of semesters in and it really is this 'whatever' that is turning out to be the surprise. When I came to university I was not totally inexperienced in sex matters. A few boyfriends had cum and gone, if you excuse the pun, but none of them had rocked my world sexually. Oh, they are good looking for sure, all muscles and stamina, but technique 3/10, engagement 2/10 and chances of them not telling their mates they have had you and what your beaver regime was, nil/10.

And so as much as you may look at us and think we must be getting loads, a girl can still get an undeserved (or deserved) reputation for being a slut/whore/slag/cum-dumpster all too easily. And you know what? It is the other girls who decide that reputation. 

What is appropriate you ask? A steady boyfriend is dull, worse still if he is at home. One at home and a fuck-buddy at uni are ok, as are a couple of friends with benefits at uni. However, stray into pulling and fucking a different guy every week and the veneer of super coolness that most girls try to exhibit just melts away and you become a threat – any guy they pull is sure to be taken by you and whether they like the guy or not, that means bitch war. Ugly.

And then there is the other side of sex – the kinky, experimental side. Go down that road and you are labelled in a heartbeat. Share a bed with another girl and have a little 'play' and you are a screaming dyke; admit to taking it up the ass and you may as well walk the streets; anything tie and tease and well, might as well rename the room the 'dungeon'. All in all, just when we should be trying everything, what we are really discovering is society's prejudices.

And so here is where I discovered that the anonymous thing works. I have spent 6 months having lots of the best, most novel sex you can almost imagine and nobody is any the wiser. 

The first time I realised was when a few of us ventured to an R&B club on a Sunday night. When I walked in it was incredible – almost totally black guys and white girls. I was actually quite frightened at first and some of the guys were really aggressive in their manner. Soon though a few drinks had been taken and we had split into smaller groups of two and three. 

I had found a lovely guy, John-Paul, who was such fun and a great dancer. Soon some of the girls were leaving and it was clear I should go too, but John-Paul insisted on giving me his number and that I should ring him. The next day, alone in the flat I thought, fuck it, why not. An hour later I had slipped out, tight jeans, tiny blouse and all hair and makeup intact to meet my date at his house.

What a place it was -great house, sports car on the drive, mega music system throughout the place. Spend too much time with students and you can forget that some people don't live like pigs! Wine wasn't the cheap stuff and well, drinking in the late afternoon with nowhere else to go felt so decadent I guess I started to get cocky. That nobody knew where I was didn't strike me as dangerous, but liberating. I could do or be whatever I wanted.

I thought of dear old Papa, a closet racist if ever there was one and what he would have said if he could have seen me now, slightly pissed in a black guy's flat and getting hornier by the second. As he poured another drink I walked up behind him, covered the glass and simply said 'I think I have had enough', spun him round, looked up at his handsome features and kissed him hard on the lips. It would be the last time I was in control of anything in this situation. 

All 6' of John-Paul took charge. In minutes I was naked with his big fingers and tongue probing every inch of my body. As I began to lose myself in the onslaught suddenly he was ordering me onto my knees. As he stripped off his own top I reached for his zipper. I wasn't so confident now, but he just swept my hands away and tore open his jeans. There were no boxers, no shorts underneath just this big fat black cock that was almost hard. He grabbed it by the base and rammed it into my gaping mouth. To instruction about getting it wet for fucking I was slobbering up and down it like a rank amateur. He knew it and began to tease and instruct in equal measure. I loved the degrading nature of what was happening. I wanted to be shown what to do, how to fuck.

As soon as he was fully hard I was pushed back onto the sofa and my legs rudely pushed into the air. He told me he wanted me to see my first black cock entering my 'virgin pussy' (his words not mine!) and with that began to push what must have been 8" of thick cock into my tiny pussy. God it hurt – not totally bad, but this was something beyond what I was used to. 

He spat on my pussy for more lube a couple of times, something I would have freaked at normally, but this was something totally new. I was no better than a cheap slut coming off the street to fuck him. There was no way this was heading for relationship city – nope, we just needed to fuck. At that moment, with him totally buried in me, I could picture my Dad walking in, struggling to decide whether this was the hottest scene ever, or a scar on the face of the family. I plumped for the latter and imagined him wanking himself off as I cried out in orgasm skewered by this black stud.

I had cum at least twice when I was picked up and hung over the arm of the sofa, face down and ass up. I felt so exposed like this. He ran his cock down my ass crack, slick with my pussy juices that were pouring out. He playfully poked it at my ass, but I jumped and he burst out laughing saying that was for another day, before plunging back into from behind. Jesus H Christ I just about passed out as he powered in and out grabbing my tits hard as he did so. 

I was thrashing about like I was having a fit, but he just didn't slow down. This was no making love – this was brutal fucking, a show of animal strength. In all I reckon he must have gone at me like that for over 45 minutes, no respite. Without warning he pulled it out, spun me round again and jammed two fingers of his left hand up my pussy and onto my G-spot – one of my hands grabbed his wrist to hold him there and the second reached up to cover his right hand pumping his cock furiously in my face. 

I watched that gorgeous mushroom headed cock erupt right into my face – this was a first – us hot teens don't like our hair messing with, but this guy wasn't going to take no for an answer and this was him claiming his prize. I was covered in the mess and then his cock was pushed back in my mouth with an instruction to clean him good. I did. I never went back.

After I had left, I knew I was onto something. I had done a black guy, a bit of a no-no amongst us 'marry well' girls, but nobody would ever know unless I told them. I made up my mind to try other opportunities as they came and that if I was to get them I probably needed to look outside the University for my Social Life.

Friday night that followed brought the first chance for something different. I decided to burn a bit of Papa's money in one of the posh hotel bars rather than in the union bar. After the first drink I didn't put my hand in my pocket once. A sequence of, well, mostly creepy guys offered to buy me a drink, keen to see if I was a girl on my own in the hotel for the night. I'm sure a few patrons thought I must be a hooker touting for custom.

I was getting particularly bothered by one guy who had rather got me pinned at the bar. The situation looked like a blow out when we were interrupted by a gorgeous blonde MILF (I watch porn too...) who announced that she was glad she had finally found me and that the champagne was getting warm, before plonking a bucket of bubbly on the bar, giving the guy one quick glance that said 'fuck off now' and pulling up a stool right in front of me.

She had spotted I looked in bother and introduced herself as Kylie, a dentist with some consultancy work to do the next day in town. She was staying in the hotel and offered to keep me company for a while until the hounds had been called off. Well, half an hour later we were having a really blast, bitching about the other people in the bar, talking work and uni life, holidays and shopping. 

This was the woman I wanted to be when I got older. She was about my height I guess, similar build to me, although her ass was a little rounder it was awesome, the whole look so gorgeous and yet about 40 (she wouldn't say). Fab dress sense and hair, mega chat, confidence in spades and a good career was the package to die for, but didn't explain the lack of husband or kid talk. I had to ask – she explained it just wasn't for her. 

She liked her single life, and that it was selfish enough for her to do what she wanted, when and with whom she wanted. Holidays with men and women had been mentioned so I didn't really pay too much attention to the comment. Then she asked me why I was sitting in a hotel bar all dolled up and all alone.

Shit, this was a tricky one. I plumped for the truth and told her about my quest to try and 'meet' different people for new experiences. She seemed fascinated by this. Suddenly she said it was getting on and she really had to eat, but didn't want to get a table and preferred room service, but did I want to join her as we were having so much fun. Cool I thought, I get to see what the rooms are like. Sometimes I guess I can be a bit naive.

Up in the fabulous suite room we ordered food and set about another bottle of champagne. It sure beat pints of cheap lager and the stink of the usual student bars. Like I said, I like the finer things. And then she went for the jugular by asking about the new experiences I had tried already. Again I stuttered to an answer and then coaxed along began to tell the tale of last Monday. She laughed and feigned amazement at my exploits. I got the feeling she could trump my tale but didn't tease me about how 'daring' it was of me to fuck a black guy, but simply said she loved my story and wished she could have been there. 

And then she kissed me.

I was paralysed. I was kind of responding, but slowly and uncertainly. She kept kissing me and a hand began to stroke my arm with what felt like pure electricity. She stopped for a moment, looked at me and reminded me that nobody knew I was here and that my new experiences could continue right now if I wanted them to. She was so right. She was so gorgeous. I was so taken. I was hers.

I asked what she had in mind. 'Fucking' came the one word answer. She stripped her own top off first and revealed a set of tits so like my own, just heading a little south and a few blemishes, but with these rock hard pencil eraser nipples where mine are soft and pink with tiny little centres on large areolas. They were beautiful. 

She made me stand and dropped my dress to the floor before reaching round me and grabbing my bra encased tits for a feel. I could feel hers pressing into my back, the first time a nearly naked woman had held me in a passionate way. My head fell back raising my titties up into her grasp still further. My bra was removed in an instance and my tits groped again, kneading from back to front as if trying to get my milk to come out, so firm but so gentle at the same time. And then one hand dropped behind me and between my legs. 

A firm finger pressed urgently at my sodden slit, running from clit to anus, slowly sawing back and forwards, pushing the silky material up into my pussy. I reached back trying to catch something of her, but again she was in charge, not me. Then that same finger slipped up the side of my knickers and straight up my pussy. She groaned and muttered 'gorgeous' in my ear – I nearly bloody exploded!

A brief pause told me she was undressing and I wanted to see it. I turned round and witnessed this beautiful tanned woman stand right in front of me with not a stitch of clothing left on. Her pussy was bald, absolutely smooth, giving her the appearance of almost a pre-teen with great tits. Being darker and not a fan of the 'shadow' I keep mine (you've been dying to know haven't you?) as a short soft cover. Fortunately I'm not overly hairy and it is soft, and I find one of the horniest things is to see it matted with cum sprayed from a newly fucked cock.

I digress – we were now locked together in the most passionate snog I think I have ever enjoyed. Our hands roamed across each other's naked breasts, asses and pussies. These were first after first after first for me. I was fascinated by these breasts, delighted at the way I could make them harden and jump at my touch, and then tentatively I let a hand stray down to her pussy.

The heat from it was amazing. It was almost like bursting it as I felt just a glistening around there at first, but as I penetrated what was obviously a well kept vagina (no kids through here for sure!) her fluids simply flooded out, her body going noticeably limp at that moment. I clumsily spread the juices around and even cheekily stuck the end of my finger up her now well lubed anal entrance. She pulled back for a moment and was grinning. She grabbed my hand and brought it up to her mouth. Simultaneously she forced her fingers into mine so at the same moment we tasted each other for the first time. She tasted good. I was surprised I hadn't backed off, but it felt natural.

I was easily toppled back onto the bed. She stood over me and feasted on the view. I asked if she liked soft fresh 18 year old girls. She replied that she was about to find out. I was something different for her too! Now I understood why SHE liked to be single. She wasn't some butch dyke picking up girls in hotels, but just like me, an opportunist, anonymously taking advantage of situations like this. 

She bent down, kissed me on the lips and then began to work down my body towards my throbbing pussy. As she did she said she assumed it was my first time with another woman so she would show me what to do first. As her tongue ran teasingly down my pouting slit I almost came there and then. It took just a couple of minutes for the real thing. I was on fire and everything shook.

She gave me no chance to stop though and was suddenly over my face and lowering her own pussy onto my face. I suddenly had a vision of what I was doing but that nobody knew, just Kylie and I. I had no need to hold back and I didn't – I gorged on that beautiful woman like a porn star. 

She came gratifyingly quickly, we tribbed to a mutual orgasm and we kissed and cuddled, groped and squeezed, keeping each other going for nigh on an hour. As we tried to draw breath, she said that now she would really fuck me and slipped from the bed. 

As she walked back in, there between her legs was a lovely big black strap on, probably not unlike John-Paul for size. She asked how long he had lasted and then bet me this would be better. I wasn't inclined to disagree. As she mounted me in the missionary position and slowly inserted the hard phallus into me her eyes were full of lust, her teeth gritted and then it started, the pumping rhythm so familiar.

It felt good to be able to kiss as we fucked, doubly good that there was this amazing pair of tits to hang onto as well, dangling into my eager mouth as she drove into me ever harder. As I stole a glimpse of the cock pulling out, there was a creamy white cum being forced out of me in a quantity I did not believe. 

Then she shouted over her shoulder. 'Don't just stand there, get undressed' – what the fuck! It was the bell boy with the food. I say boy, he was a gorgeous young guy who had just gotten luckier than he could ever believe. Kylie urged him to help her fuck me, grabbing his rock hard cock and dragging him over to the bed, before feeding it into my mouth.

I was being double teamed for the first time in my life now, with a woman and a guy I had never even spoken to. This was so wild. What followed got even wider as they swapped ends with me on all fours taking him in my cunt (it felt like a cunt, not a pussy, now it was so depraved) while deep -throating her dildo like the porn queen I was playing. 

And then she pulled out and stripped off the dildo ordering me to put it on. The boy looked a little crestfallen at his loss of orifice to fuck, but didn't have to wait long. He was going to get two for the price of one tonight. As soon as the plastic cock was on me, Kylie sank down onto it. As soon as she was comfortable, she motioned him to get up behind her.

At first he looked confused, and then she started to rub him up and down her ass. I'd never seen anal before let alone done it and here she was about to give me the kinkiest of demo's. As he was about to enter she whispered that my finger had got her anal juices up earlier and that she loved this from time to time, but this double was to be an ambition fulfilled.




Anonymous and Loving It



And with that he forced his way up her ass, right to the balls. I was groping them and her and feeling exactly where it was all going. This was the hottest thing I had ever done by far. And then the fucking started. And boy did we fuck her! For twenty minutes or more the two of us fucked her in unison. She was screaming and cumming almost constantly. 

As he began to tighten she ordered him to cum up her ass and sure enough that's what he did. In two minutes he was gone, dismissed by my lover. She swivelled around and now with her pussy once more above my face, she went down on my cock, tasting the juices that coated it. I wasn't let off and as she curled her taut stomach, her asshole and ruined pussy were presented to me.

One word came back from her – 'clean'. It was an order. Fresh cum from a plundered asshole was something I never ever envisaged I would try. But try I did, keeping the last bit in my mouth and sharing it with Kylie in a final tongue twisting kiss that tasted of cum and ass and pussy and the most delicious sex of my life.

Did I go back there again? Too damn right I did. When she comes to town I always have a night in her hotel. Sometimes together, sometimes with a lover or two we have acquired. Last time we had a 'party' as she called it and had no less than six young guys back at once. Now that was a night! 

If only Papa could see his little girl having her swollen pussy cleaned out by a horny blond woman almost his age after it has been spunked in by six studs he would have a fit. Or would he? Of course if we could do it anonymously, there is almost nothing I wouldn't do now...



Anonymous Beast



The man had walked around all day. He had wandered all over the city. Always looking for that which he could not find. The man wandered through the crowded street and stalked dark tunnels and alleys. He scanned vast areas. Nothing. He could not find what he had been sent to find. He was growing impatient and decided to leave the city. He wandered into the countryside and soon found the perfect area to do what he meant to.

He was a tall young man with black hair and pale green eyes. He did not look a day over twenty. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except everything about him was an illusion. When people looked at him, they saw a young man. That was the illusion itself. This was not a man but something masquerading as a human being.

The man entered the clearing. He looked about, all senses alert to his surroundings as he made sure that he was alone. Once he was sure, he crouched on the ground and tried to focus on the change. He pictured himself returning to his true form. The form he wore was not his own. It was a very clever disguise. The man's body began to change. Hair grew all over it. The body became covered with thick fur. He became more muscular. His eyes turned yellow. His teeth elongated and sharpened. He grew larger and decidedly stronger and more feral in appearance. Where once stood a young man now a strange beast remained. A seven-foot tall humanoid creature covered with fur and armed with long fangs and thick, sharp claws. Something out of the realm of nightmares.

The creature had a name. A name that humanity could not pronounce. This creature's kind had been around long before humanity dominated the world. Creatures like these once ruled the planet Earth without rivals. They were around in the times of the great cold. They were around at a time when humans hadn't evolved yet. Always they were there. These strange creatures were not savage beasts. They were sentient beings of great power. Underneath their bestial appearance, they were beings of great intelligence and knowledge. The knowledge they had was acquired through a life spanning thousands of years. These beings were very long-lived. They had to adapt to changes in the world when humanity became the dominant lifeform on the planet Earth.

This creature was called Khiros. In the language of his people, it meant bravery. Khiros lived in a valley with many of his people somewhere in the land of Scandinavia. They used their shapeshifting abilities to make themselves look human and thus blend into the human world. These creatures were known as the Macrokran but preferred to be called The Wild People, as they collectively called themselves. They did not want open confrontation with humanity. They wanted to live in peace. Khiros was young by his people's standards. He was only three hundred years old. Barely more than a child. He lived in the Bikouros Clan, which was ruled by his father Khaphor and his mother Gatrah. The Bikouros Clan had two hundred members. They were one of the largest and most powerful clans in the world.

Khiros was far away from home. He had been sent on the trail of his sister Gerya. She was a young one, only one century old. She had left the Clan with her lover, a crafty young male named Thoshura. Thoshura was the leader of a small band of rebels. These rebels were members of Khiros's own species who did not want to live the way of the Clan. Khiros had been sent to find them and bring them back home. The rebels were collectively known as the Ishod. Khiros had orders to bring them back. By force if necessary. He had been sent on a mission by his father and could not fail. If he did, a harsh punishment would befall him. His father had been alive for three thousand years and ruled the Clan for half of that. He was known to be a stern ruler.

Khiros had tracked the Ishod from Scandinavia to this small city in Russia. He had traveled a long way. A very long way. He was beginning to tire of this mission. Seriously. He did not want to be out there chasing his cursed little sister or her lover. He would rather be at home, romancing the beautiful female who had caught his attention. What was her name? Laskhira. She was a tall and slender female. The daughter of one of his father's war chiefs. She was a skilled warrior. Khiros was a poet and a chronicler of his People's lives. He was not a warrior. His father had many sons and daughters but somehow ended up picking him to go chasing around after the rebels. Just his luck.

Khiros needed to find a place to spend the night. He took to the trees, leaping thirty feet off the ground in one bound. He landed on a tall, ragged tree. He began to leap from tree to tree with amazing agility. His kind were more agile than the apes. Khiros was hungry. He would need to find something to eat. There were none of his favorite fruits or vegetables around. Although his kind were equipped with fangs, they were for stripping bark off trees. None of the Macrokran ate meat. They were vegetarians. Their diet consisted of fruits, vegetables and roots. Occasionally, they ate insects but that was it.

Khiros did not like to be in the wilderness of Russia. Khiros had studied many languages during his short life and had always dislike the language of this region. Also, his kind rarely ventured outside Scandinavia or the heart of Europe. Sure, they were spread all over the Globe but they preferred colder regions. Khiros's father told him of how he traveled as far as Africa in his day. Khiros was not envious. There was a time when some menace from Africa threatened the great Clans so much that they were forced to unite into army and wage war against it.

Khiros was leaping from place to place when he came upon a strange scene not far from the road. A young man was being attacked by two men on horses. The young man ran but could not possibly hope to outrun the horsemen. Khiros watched the scene. The desperate young men turned around and faced the horsemen with a small knife. Khiros almost laughed. Humans were strange creatures. They killed their own kind. This was something unthinkable for the Macrokran. 

Khiros felt some manner of pity for the young man and dropped down from the trees. He waded into the horsemen. They were no match for his strength. He threw them off their steeds. They fell. He slammed them into unconsciousness. All in the time it took to draw two quick breaths. Khiros was not a warrior but his kind were blessed with strength and speed far beyond that of the humans with whom they shared the world. Two armed men on horseback were no match for a healthy member of the Macrokran race. The People were of tough stock. 

The young fugutive turned around to see his pursuers on the ground, beaten. He found himself staring at.....someone. Khiros had changed form in a flash. He had gone from his true form to his human disguise in the blink of an eye. No longer was he a shaggy beast of superhuman strength, he was just a tall young man clad in a fur coat and pants. A young man who had appeared out of nowhere and defeated two horsemen with his bare hands.

Khiros looked at the young fugutive. The fugutive looked alert. He was still brandishing the knife. He had seen nothing of the battle. Khiros was pleased of that. His kind had a rule about humanity finding out what they were. Any human who discovered that the Macrokran existed was to be put to death. The secret of the Wild People had to be protected. This was the law. The one rule none of his kind had ever disobeyed in countless millennia.

"Who are you?" he asked.

" I am Khiros, a humble traveler." His savior said.

It took the human fugutive awhile to get convinced that Khiros meant him no harm. Later, Khiros learned that the human's name was Ivan. Ivan was the son of a Russian farmer. When queried about his strange pursuers, he said nothing. He seemed eager to take possession of their horses and get away. Khiros agreed. Although he loathed all domesticated animals, traveling on horseback would be faster than jumping from tree to tree in the Russian steppe.

Khiros needed to get back to his mission. He learned that Ivan had seen some strange people traveling in the steppe. They were going to the city of Bolshev. Apparently, Ivan lived in the countryside around that town. Khiros agreed to travel with him. Ivan was not bad company. He was also attractive, as far as humans went. One night, they took refuge in an abandoned farm. Ivan made a fire and killed two hares. Khiros declined to eat the meat and went off to dig up some roots. He had to strip some barks off the trees and feasted on a meager meal. He needed to stay alert and healthy otherwise his body would cease to function properly.

They traveled through the Russian steppe. They saw the carnage wrought by hordes of Kurgan over the land. The Kurgan were bloodthirsty killers who destroyed everything they saw. They were incredibly dangerous and destructive. Khiros had heard of the Kurgans. They were the scourge of the human world. They took refuge in a cave. A cave that had once been inhabited. As usual, they made themselves at home. Ivan offered Khiros some food and for once, just to indulge his human companion, Khiros ate some food. It tasted nasty to him and he spat it out when his friend was not looking. Ivan looked at Khiros strangely. Khiros could smell the heat of desire coming off him.

Khiros looked at Ivan. The young man looked beautiful. His body was lean yet muscular. His eyes were sparkling with lust and mischief. His usually pale skin seemed golden in the firelight. Khiros smiled. Ivan smiled back at him. With a confident stride, Ivan walked up to Khiros. Khiros watched as Ivan came dangerously close to him. Ivan smiled and put his arms around Khiros. They kissed. It was a long and deep kiss. Ivan drew Khiros down to the bed. They kissed again and Ivan tenderly caressed Khiros's body. Khiros found his human male body responding all too easily to Ivan's touch. Ivan kissed his face, his neck and his chest. Ivan's slim hand held his groin. Ivan kissed a path down from his chest to his belly then buried his face into his groin. Khiros let out a sigh as Ivan took his erect cock into his mouth. Khiros felt like he was about to burst. Ivan sucked him off. Khiros screamed. He exploded. It was over. Ivan rested his head on his lover's stomach. Khiros was breathing heavily. 

He was quite surprised when Ivan climbed on top of him. Ivan lowered himself onto Khiros erect cock. Khiros instinctively grabbed him by the hips and thrust into him. Ivan groaned. Khiros plunged his cock inside him. Ivan screamed and rode him like a wild horse. Khiros roared and thrust into his lover, enjoying the feeling of Ivan's tender flesh yielding to his mighty thrusts. He exploded. Ivan screamed at the top of his lungs. Khiros held him fast. They looked into each other's eyes. Both were filled with animal passion. Ivan kissed Khiros tenderly on the lips. They lay on the bed, breathing heavily. It was over.

When Khiros woke up the next day, Ivan was gone. Khiros was surprised. He searched everywhere for the young Russian. Ivan was not to be found anywhere. Khiros sighed. A very human thing to do. He missed Ivan. He had grown to like the young man. He liked Ivan. He missed his charm and wit. Also, his gorgeous body. The first human body which Khiros had found attractive. Khiros missed him sorely. He looked for him for days, then decided to go back to his mission. He still had to find his sister. He still had to bring back the rebels. 

He went back on the road and traveled for close to a hundred miles before he ran into a single soul. He came in view of a farm. This one was inhabited. Khiros missed Ivan so much that he lost his appetite. By the time he arrived at the farm, he had lost much of his strength. His kind went into something ressembling suspended animation when they went without food or drink for a long time. Suspended animation could last several months. It was dangerous for them. Especially in the winter. Khiros came in view of the farm and basically fell off his horse. He had lost consciousness.

Khiros looked at Katrina. She was a lovely girl. Short and slim, with short brown hair and light gray eyes. She was beautiful. He smiled at her. She smiled at him shyly. He was surprised at himself. He found the humans attractive. Both male and female. This was strange. An unknown taboo among his people. The Macrokran had very liberal attitudes toward sex. Sexual relations between members of the same sex and members of the opposite sex were seen in the same liberal light. Nothing was taboo. Still, heaven help the Macrokran who dared to cross the inter-species barrier. Any Macrokran male or female who did something so heinous with a human would be punished by death.

Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of it that drew Khiros. He let himself go in the surprisingly strong embrace of Katrina. She was kissing him all over. He felt her breasts press against his belly. Her small hands were caressing him. They soon reached his cock. It was erect. She looked at it with wonder. Khiros said nothing as she started to give him oral sex. She sucked his cock and licked his balls. She was so good at what she did that he was hard almost instantly. He came, and she drank his seed. He wanted to take her. He lifted her up. She held onto him. Down she came. She impaled herself onto his cock. He thrust into her. Her pussy gripped his cock. He slammed into her. She rode him for all he was worth. And he was worth a lot! They went at it like this for a long time before achieving simultaneous orgasm and falling on the bed, exhausted.

Khiros and Katrina became lovers overnight. They had sex several times over the next couple of days. Khiros went back on the road three days later. He liked her but had other things to do. He had to find his sister and the rebels. Also, he was a bit troubled by the fact that he was sexually attracted to women and men. Bisexuality was very common and accepted among the Macrokran but inter-species relations were not. Khiros realized that if he were ever found out, he would be put to death. Better to forget about the humans and find his sister. He would bring the rebels back to his father to await judgement. That was his mission and that's what he would do.

He could not let himself be distracted. He had left Katrina's farm in the morning. By night, he had abandoned the horse. He reverted to his true form, the bestial one. He took to the trees and disappeared in the night. Just a shadow in the darkness. That's how it was supposed to be. Humans and his kind were never meant to mix. Maybe there was a reason for that. 

To be continued...



Anonymous Blowjobs



Jess pulled away from my neck, which she had been biting.

"I tell you what," she said, looking at me with her large blue eyes. "We have a little proposal to make."

"Oh yeah?" I said, grabbing her right breast and squeezing, firmly pinching the nipple.

"Well, we had this idea a while ago, and since we've met you we thought you would be perfect for it."

Alex popped his head up, my cock coming out of his mouth.

"We wanted to get you as horny as we could before we suggested it!" 

They certainly had succeeded: a naked gay boy sat between my legs giving me one of the best blowjobs I'd ever received as I perched on the end of his bed. His neighbor, Jess, whose sexual preferences seemed to be 'nympho', was sat next to me in just her lace panties. Her hands were all over my balls and chest as she bit and sucked my neck. The smell of her feminine hair flooded my nostrils as I squeezed her back.

I had met Alex that semester (detailed in Camping Experimentation) who was the first guy to seduce me. He'd introduced his naughty college buddy to me recently (detailed in College Threesome) and I had ended up in his room after a night of drinking. 

Things had quickly progressed to Jess and I blowing him, then me eating her pussy as he licked my asshole, before him finally giving me head myself.

"Get back to sucking my cock, you little gay slut! Ohh, yeah, like that. What is this plan, Jess?"

"Well, we think it would be really hot, and we've spoken to a couple of friends of ours who would be up for it, if you got sucked off by a load of strangers, completely unaware of it."

"What the fuck are you on about girl? That don't make no sense?"

"OK, well basically, we'd handcuff you to like a chair or something, then- OW!" I'd pinched her nipple real fucking hard. She responded by squeezing my balls. It was actually quite pleasurable - they were full what with Alex's round lips now vigorously going up and down the length of my rock hard cock.

"Then," she resumed "we'd blindfold you and you'd wait. The first person would come in, sit down, suck your cock for two minutes, then leave. Then the next would come in, etc etc."

"But are they men or women?"

"That's the beauty - you have no idea. They could be all girls or all guys, or a mix. Anyway, it's good for you cause you just have the amazing feeling, and it's hot for us cause we, like, get to watch these randos sucking your cock while your completely helpless."

I must admit, it did sound good. With a loud pop Alex withdrew his head from my penis.

"What the fuck, man, I'm nearly there! Finish me!"

"No way - you agree to this first." Jess squeezed my balls again.

"OK OK, just get on with making me cum!"

Alex giggled and lowered his head, wrapping his wet mouth around my shaft once more. His hands caressed my thighs, Jess's on my balls and nipples.

I felt the rush in my chest, the ecstasy, and the amazing sensation in the end of my penis. I squirted, Alex happily glugging down every last drop.

***

So the next Thursday afternoon I found myself sitting in Alex's desk chair in his college room utterly naked, my linp cock lying on my leg. My hands were tied behind me with a pair of fluffy cuffs, and a blindfold was around my eyes. There were some strongly scented candles to prevent the masculine or feminine smells of my suckers helping me figure out their gender.

"OK," I heard Jess say. "This is gonna be so hot!"

"Right, I think we're ready girlfriend," Alex warned. "We're gonna get a text when the first is here. We've told them to come at ten minute intervals, so should be perfect."

Just at that point, I heard his phone buzz. The door slammed, presumably as he went out. Silence.

Two minutes later, the door went again, and I heard Alex say "sit there and go for it."

I felt the presence of someone in front of me. Presumably they were kneeling. Suddenly, my cock was enveloped by a strange mouth. It was limp, and the tongue gave it tingles as it swirled around. I instantly started to firm.

Within twenty seconds, me penis was fully erect. Whoever was in front of me was not starting slowly. They had not let my member out of their mouth since they took it in, and had their lips wrapped rightly around the shaft. 

Their head was going up and down, up and down, up and down. I was getting near an orgasm.

I felt myself stirring, ready to cum. Just as I was about to open my mouth to announce this fact, the feeling stopped. They had let my cock go.

I heard the door slam and realized that that was it - my two minutes was up!

"OK, big guy," said Jess. "Now wait for the next one!"

So I sat there, panting softly. My penis soon shrank, and within another minute or so it was fully limp. I could feel the cold pool of pre cum on my thigh. The room was hot.

Then the door was opened and closed. Another two minutes. It opened and closed again. A second presence was felt it front of me.

I realized that a tongue was very softly making its way down my penis. It snaked from the base up to the top of the head. Then it went down again to the balls, tickling them.

I responded quickly. By the time that the stranger had taken both testicles in their mouth my penis was bobbing up, swaying and gently tapping their ear. It was impossible to tell whether this was a man or woman.

A thought struck me - Alex and Jess had obviously told these people not to use their hands in case I worked out which gender they were.

The tongue went over the base of my penis again, gently kissing my thighs. I moaned. This was just sensational! I felt more pre cum dribbling out.

They kissed my cock and slowly took the head in their mouth. They sucked and sucked at it, before inching their lips down.

Soon my whole member was down their throat. I could feel the warm sides of their mouth all around my penis, and I was in Heaven.

And then - I should have guessed - the feeling stopped short and the door slammed. Once again, I was sat there with my cock softening into the pre cum on my leg.

The standard couple of minutes came and went. I was bored.

"What the fuck's going on? Can I cum soon?"

"Just wait big boy," replied Jess.

"You got one more baby," teased Alex. "They're on their way."

I suspected those two were just tantalizing me.

Five minutes. This time there was a knock. Someone opened the door and in no time my limp penis was in a mouth. They swirled their tongue over.

In about ten seconds, my cock popped out. I felt a funny sensation - it was the mystery blower literally blowing on my little head. It was cold and funny, and I liked it.

They moved onto my balls, blowing all around before licking. These weren't soft licks, but hungry licks up and down, like when you have an ice cream.

I moaned.

"OK OK, I'm cumming!" I said.

"No!" cried Jess. Hold on or you're never getting a blowjob from me again!"

I tried to hold on. The mouth disappeared, only to reattach itself with an icy tingle. They had an ice cube on their tongue! It was like nothing I'd felt before. If you've never felt this, then get it done soon.

Anyway, this was too much. Just as the ice cube had melted completely against my penis, I felt my body tense. Obviously, at this point the mouth went. The cum was almost at the top of my penis and then stopped.

The door slammed.

Fuck! That was my last one.

"Fuck you two! I need to cum!" I shouted.

"Yes yes, don't worry," said Alex, removing my blindfold.

"We want your cum," announced Jess. Phew! I was still rock hard, and the thought of her lips round my shaft was nearly pushing me over the edge.

To my surprise, Jess then opened the door. Alex wheeled me out. What were they doing?

"Hey guys, what the hell, I'm naked!" I protested as they pushed me into the hall of their college dorm. It was empty, but I was chained to a chair with a massive boner.

They just giggled as they both got on their knees. Alex put his hand around my penis and jerked for ten seconds.

Jess then leaned over and took my cock in her pretty little mouth. Alex kissed my thighs and his hands rubbed my chest.

I was nearly there.

Once again I felt myself building. Jess took her right hand and squeezed my balls. Her left hand suddenly went underneath and she stuck a finger straight into my asshole!

This was too much. From my torso to my penis to my ass I was having a sensory overload.

"Ffffuuuuck!" I managed before exploding into her mouth. It spurted a good half a dozen times, and she choked on the quantity of cum.

After it subsided, both gave their tongues to the clean up operation.

I sat in the corridor, panting.

"Fuck."

They looked up at me and chuckled, before wheeling me back in and undoing the cuffs. I'm glad I'd said yes...



Anonymous Destiny



Erika's long black hair bounce lively on her shoulders as she negotiated the steps away from her favorite bar on the corner of Fifth and Monroe, quickly: she was always in a hurry. She walked at a very early age, she finished high school at 16, she finished Harvard Law at 23, and was the youngest District Attorney for Hoboken at the age of 26, with a very impressive record as young assistant DA. Her relationships were equally fast, she fell in and out of love with equal rapidity. 

She walked south on Monroe Street under the dim lights that cast long shadows among the dilapidated buildings, which held Hoboken's booming economy, at least until the 1940's when the harbor was taken over by the government and all the ships sailed into New York harbor and bypassed Hoboken. In the 70's there was only one vessel line that called Hoboken home, but even Seatrain lost it's financial footing and had to abandon the expensive and restrictive harbor.

Erika grew up in Hoboken and knew first hand the dangerous places to travel at night, but she also knew where to get excitement. This night, after a long court battle that finally put a serial killer behind bars, she sought the thrills that Hoboken's seediest places could offer. Lost in her thoughts she reached Second street, but instead of turning East and the safety of the Yuppie haven of downtown Hoboken, she turned west towards the palisades and to where the old projects still stood reminding everyone of the early 80's when Hoboken's fortunes were still to be made, and when housing costs would skyrocket from three hundred dollar a month for a two bedroom apartment, to two thousand dollars a month for the same place remodeled and painted for the Yuppies, and the Yummies of New York City to enjoy.

The street was dark; the only light coming from the middle of the block. Candidly speaking, the term light was too good for it. There was some kind of a dark glow the radiated from the bulb some sixty feet in the air. She walked along the burned out shell of the old factory on the broken glass. Kids loved to shoot into the darkened buildings and practice their night skills. Some day, she thought, some day I'll be able to fix this end of town too.