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Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 1

By: nawty48



Slouching in her chair, Carmen drew up her dress and rested her unshaved legs on her desk. The student's paper she was reading, though competent and well composed, lacked passion and fire, and the dry topic tempted her to read between the lines and extract more mouth-watering fare. From habit, the naughty professor conjured up a fantasy involving the paper's author, an older graduate student named Sandy. 

The voluptuous redhead is walking across campus unprotected from the afternoon sun. Though she's wearing a short cotton dress, she sweats fiercely and feels terribly uncomfortable. But the sun is not wholly to blame, for the coeds passing by boast firm bellies and shapely legs and make her feel old, fat, and unattractive. It isn't that her own body is so bad. True, her ankles and calves are thick, and her thighs could benefit from more exercise. And her belly bulges out more than she'd like, and her butt is anything but small. But her breasts require DD-cups to keep them in tow, and her lips are full and sensual. Moreover, at 5'6" she looks good in heels, and everyone loves her hair. 

Still, what twenty years will do to youth! And what a change in one's suitors! Only dirty old men seem to hit on her now as if she carried a sign saying, "Divorced and Easy." She flogs herself with these disturbing thoughts until her sarcastic conscience intrudes. It chides her for making tortuous comparisons and for mourning the fact that she's no longer young. 

"Where's the shame in turning forty?" asks her inner voice. "Except for growing pimples, what can't you do now--and better--that you did at nineteen? So unless you get off on feeling miserable, accept the fact that you're middle-aged and be grateful that anyone still desires you. For many women your age aren't hit on at all!" 

"It's stupid letting these girls upset me," Sandy scolds herself. "I'm not here to compete with them is some beauty contest." But being a woman means always competing, and being surrounded by a sea of pageant winners means struggling to stay out of last place. 

Two coeds stroll by wearing summer dresses like herself, and she’s compelled to make a comparison. Their legs look sexy, but it's unlikely they’d say the same about hers. However, their half-buttoned blouses are less intimidating, and even with the help of push-up bras, they don't come close to matching her cleavage. At least she’s the clear winner in this category, and her self-esteem creeps up a notch. 

But as the girls pass by, she gives in to an urge to look back. Their seamless contours say that they've abandoned panties, and she quickly puts it down to the hot climate. But her inner voice mocks her pious rationale. "You go without panties because it gives you a thrill! So does wearing a black bra! But you’re too much of a 'good girl' to admit it!" 

The internal lecture and ungodly heat makes Sandy's temples throb, and the merciless sun gives her a rabbit's pulse and leaves her feeling unbalanced. In times like this, the world grows distorted as if she were viewing life through a warped lens. It's a lifelong problem that she’s never licked, and she longs for the shadows and a one-track mind.

But the pitiless sun burns away the protective layers of her psyche, rousing her animal nature which she fights to keep caged. Dark desires fly up from her depths like bats and flutter around in her head, battling with her forces of restraint and threatening to gain the upper hand. Now thrashing in an orgy of conflicting impulses, her brain crashes like a computer, leaving her face looking blank. No longer making comparisons with the girls, she simply moves dumbly with the herd. But the sun won't allow her any escape, tattooing her fair skin with freckles until the stinging pain forces her to confront herself. 

Wishing that she had a hat to screen her--or her own dark cloud--she peers up at the hostile sky for signs of relief. As if disgusted by her presence, the sun lashes her naked shoulders as if trying to drive her off, and when she looks to see if others are suffering, none wear a pained expression. Worse, the other students seem to avoid her as if fearing contagion! So with head down and spirit crushed, Sandy trudges on in private agony. 

Where is she going? Carmen scratched the mole on her thigh while dreaming up a suitable destination. To the library? The bookstore? Hmmm? Lured to her bush, her fingers combed through the soft sable hairs. 

A different fantasy. That one would have to wait. She still had Sandy wrestling with her conscience as she crosses the campus in the hellish heat. But where is she going? To the bus stop, of course. Sandy hurries to catch her ride, but it rumbles away, bathing her in its hot exhaust. Locking eyes with the female bus driver in the side mirror, she sees the woman smile wickedly, and the grin is branded onto Sandy's brain. She’ll now have to wait a full hour, and what to do until then?

Carmen teased her clit, watching it twitch like a worm in a frying pan. "Hurry up with the story!" it cried out to her. "I’m getting excited!" But its eagerness was disciplined with a brisk slap. "Patience is a virtue!" the professor chastised. "Never rush good things!" Then she slid down further in her chair to continue her fantasy. 

Sandy hoists herself onto the wall facing the main drag. The slender trees lining the boulevard provide little shade, and the slight breeze from the traffic comes with unpleasant fumes. Three other people are already perched on the wall. Two girls with nice tans are reading a naughty novel together; and a homeless black man with a cigarette in his mouth is scrounging through his pockets for a match. Though dying for a smoke herself, Sandy resists the urge to bum one from the transient and instead stares down at her legs wishing they had more color.

A big blonde in spike heels now comes weaving down the sidewalk. Encased in a dirty pink T-shirt with matching leggings, the woman sports a shoulder bag with a designer's label and reeks of perfume. But she's clearly no runway model, for her curves are far too voluptuous, and a spider tattoo guards the slope to her heavy breasts. She stops by the wall to dig a cigarette out of her bag, but her drunken coordination makes it hard for her to strike a match. 

Cursing after repeated failures, she singles out the redhead to perform the service for her. Though hesitant to have any contact with the whore, Sandy agrees to light her up, and the hooker leans in closely between her legs. When the match proves a dud and sends a spark flying onto Sandy's thigh, the whore slaps away the ember, then licks her finger and rubs saliva into the wound. No accidents occur on the second try, and after grasping Sandy's wrist to steady the flame, the streetwalker grasps her thigh to steady herself. "Thanks," she says without looking up, for a gust from a truck flutters the redhead's dress, and the flash of unshaved pussy makes her deeply inhale and scratch her butt. 

The tramp now comes off the wall to have the redhead do him, too. His cigarette is bent and leaks filling at the tip, and the entire shaft is consumed by the fire that she produces. Like the blonde, he says thanks by staring up her dress. But he also offers her a smoke, and since the ice is broken, Sandy sticks the Camel in her mouth and blows a cloud at the unsullied sky.

Since they're now great friends, the hooker pulls out a bottle of cinnamon schnapps and after taking a swig, offers the bottle to Sandy. She declines, but the tramp gladly accepts when a taste is offered to him. Throwing back his shaggy head, he gives the bottle a long tilt, then passes it to the redhead. Again she declines. But both transient and whore press her to take a hit, the former teasing her mouth with the bottle, the latter squeezing her thighs. Sandy hates to stoop to their level, but gives in to avoid making a scene. The booze makes her shudder, and her new friends smile, not hiding their desire to peek up her dress. 

Everything now seems to slows down--except Sandy’s heart. As her chest pounds she squints up at the sky to see the sun seemingly welded in place, its relentless beams penetrating her flesh like X-rays. The humid air also conspires against her, trapping the heat in her body like a thermal strait jacket, and she pants like an overheated dog. Her vision blurs, and feeling soaked with sweat, she tugs her bra away from her breasts. It's an automatic action lasting only a few seconds, but her seedy admirers read much into it. 

Sandy opens a book to escape their stares, but the words are all Greek to her dilated eyes. Developing a tremor, her ankles bounce against the wall, and one of her sandals drops to the sidewalk. The tramp retrieves it, and like some squalid Prince Charming, insists on replacing it on her foot. He grasps her calf to provide resistance but has trouble making the connection and lets the hooker have a try. She lifts the redhead's leg to go at it from a better angle, but her equally clumsy technique blatantly exposes the crotch. Sandy knows that something’s wrong, but her reaction time is sluggish, and her fan club gets a long look before she crosses her legs. 

Though she feels like slapping them both, she's too dazed to perform any action, so she simply tries to ignore them. But the whore can't abide a fashion gaffe and removes the redhead’s other sandal to keep her feet coordinated. Failing to grasp the logic, Sandy stares at the hooker while breathing through her mouth. 

The girls nearby now giggle as they come across a juicy paragraph, and one reads it aloud as if they were in private. The dirty dialogue resounds in Sandy's brain, and the images forming make her deeply blush. But neither bum nor whore look embarrassed as they pass the bottle and lick their grinning lips. 

The sight of a nun passing by slaps Sandy out of her stupor, and she asks herself why she attracts such types. Was God trying to punish her? Was there any God at all? Or was heaven just a ball for masquerading souls? She seeks refuge in her book, but the blonde suddenly grabs her feet, asking if she'd like her toenails painted. Sandy shakes her head, but the whore is deaf to refusal, burrowing into her bag and extracting a red vial. Ignoring Sandy's protests, she makes her draw up her knees. The position makes it easy to apply the polish--and allows a clear view of a red-haired pussy. The black transient helps by getting in the way.

Making a mess of the job, the whore uses the tail of her T-shirt to mop up the smudges. But doing so bares her belly and part of another tattoo, a scorpion's tail sticking out of the elastic band. It seems alive and ready to strike, and for some reason, Sandy can't take her eyes off it. Noting her interest, the whore tugs down her leggings to completely uncover her abdomen, and undulating her belly brings the scorpion to life. But her leggings are now so low that the roof of her dense bush is exposed. 

"Beautiful," Sandy drones, mesmerized by the black hairs. 

The whore loves body art and asks to see Sandy's. The redhead points at her red freckles. Believing that she is responsible for them, the whore blows on Sandy's face with her acrid breath to dry the creative smudges. Then she pronounces her work a masterpiece and rewards herself with a hit of schnapps, inviting the redhead to join her. Left with the dregs, Sandy empties the bottle with quiet resignation. 

Seeing her as a kindred spirit, the bum hops up on the wall to sit next to her. But his judgment is skewed, and he knocks Sandy's books into the bushes behind them. She stares down at them dumbly for a long time, then slowly pivots and lowers herself to the ground. The tramp and the whore look at each other knowingly--and scramble over the wall to lend a hand.

Screened from the public, they now make their move, groping the redhead's ass and breasts as she bends over to retrieve her books. Losing her balance, Sandy falls into the dirt, and the hooker straddles her and bunches her dress up around her waist. As the black man curses while fumbling with his zipper, the hooker explores the red snatch. Eager to see if it's hot and aroused, she dips three fingers into the anxious hole, stirring it like a pot on the stove. Delighted that the soup is ready, she greases the clit with circular strokes and cleans her spoons in the redhead's mouth. A pair of red lips follow the fingers, then a long pink tongue. But Sandy cares less about the French kiss than the strange cock plowing into her pussy. But overcome by the heat and the sensual shock, she sees no point in resisting.

Believing that the redhead likes their advances, the whore tugs Sandy's dress off her sunburned shoulders and hastily removes her sweat-soaked bra. "You got nice tits, bitch!" she says, cupping the breasts in her greedy hands till they bulge out like melons. When she swoops down to suck on the nipples, both Sandy and her male lover stiffen and gasp. 

Feeling overdressed for the occasion, the whore yanks off her T-shirt and bares her own big tits. Her nipples, huge splotches the color of wine, are pierced with large golden rings, and not once does the tramp think of the pawn shop as he sweeps his tongue over his thirsty lips. The blonde can't keep her tongue in her mouth, either. Dragging it down Sandy's quaking belly leaves a trail of cinnamon-flavored drool, and once she reaches the cunt, she tortures the clit, making it swell as large as a grape. The black cock pumping in and out of the pussy swells too, and the whore grins hearing the balls rhythmically slap against the redhead's crotch. 

Desiring to see more of the action, the hooker rolls Sandy onto her side. But the cock, like its owner, becomes homeless during the move. Rushing to reinsert it, the whore shoves it up Sandy'’s asshole, but her aim isn't affected by the booze. She simply wants to see the redhead get butt-fucked. The bum doesn't mind the change in locale, and apparently, neither does Sandy. She grimaces as her rectum expands, but once the stroking returns her pain melts like butter.

With the redhead now in a perfect position for ogling, the hooker throws a white thigh over her shoulder and sucks red pussy with open eyes. Her own crotch hungrily traps Sandy's hand--but it desperately wants her mouth. So after kicking off her heels and squirming out of her leggings, she hooks an ankle behind the redhead's neck. Sandy’s civilized face soon disappears in a wild jungle pussy that has swallowed many a victim. 

The bum loves hearing the hot sucking sounds, but he's blind to the raunchy lez action. But rolling the redhead over doesn't improve his view, for the whore stays attached to her female lover like a leech. Moreover, when his cock slips out of Sandy’s butt and finds its way into the hooker's busy mouth, he thinks he's found the best ass in the universe. But he comes back to earth when the whore stuffs his cock into the redhead's cunt.

To get the friction she craves, the blonde now takes advantage of her superior position. Digging her toes into the dirt, she rolls her hips like a prone stripper, grinding her hot pubes into the even hotter face below. And to see all of the action, she grabs Sandy's ankles and sits upright, bringing both of their cunts into view. This allows the tramp to penetrate the redhead completely, and nine inches of back-alley cock get buried in graduate pussy.

Sandwiched between her thrusting black lovers and sweating like a mare, Sandy can only grunt as her breath is forcibly expelled. Her face is streaked with fuck-milk and matted with stray black curls, and the cunt depositing them screams for a pair of sucking lips and a probing tongue. The cock pumping her pussy likewise has complaints, hollering for lubrication and some good opposing thrusts. Since Sandy seems incapable of supplying her lovers' needs, her inner voice intrudes to both punish and build a fire under her.

"You are so pathetic!" her angry conscience begins, sending a gut-wrenching jolt of pain deep into her loins. "Here you've been given a great chance to let yourself go! But instead you retreat to some zombie state to protect your 'good girl' delusion! Well, enough of that shit! It's time to face facts! You're a whore at heart! And a fat ugly one at that! You should be sucking cocks and licking cunts in the gutter! That's closer to your true nature, so quit trying to deny it! Now this hooker is gorgeous and truly desires you! And the tramp is well hung and can give you a great ride! You should be grateful that they're willing to help a cheap whore like you to break out of this stupid shell! Now get busy and return their kind favors or else!"

Another painful jolt follows the chiding, but as pain subsides, Sandy's true self emerges. Letting her gut instincts take over, her cunt muscles clamp the big dick in her hole while her hormones secrete a runny grease. "Your cock feels so wonderful!" she gasps to the tramp, locking her calves around his thighs and thrusting her hips at the sky. "Had I known what a pussy-pleasing monster you possessed, I would have pulled it out of your pants and fucked you right on the wall! It's the biggest and best dick I've ever had, and I could hump it all day in my cum-loving cunt!"

Now on the right track with her male lover, she moves to get in step with the hooker, sucking her fat labia and licking the inner pink until the blonde's pussy quivers with anticipation. "Your juice is so fucking sweet!" she gushes to the whore. "I could drink it for hours and never get enough! The moment I laid eyes on your gorgeous curves I wanted to drop to my knees and drain your cunt right on the fucking sidewalk!" Since actions speak louder than words, Sandy traps the whore's clit in her bush-battered lips and pleasures it with a long chain of noisy sucks. As her chin drips cunt-milk, the tramp longs for a camera.

"Jesus!" the whore cries out like a virgin on a sacrificial altar. She has sat on a lot of female faces, but this redheaded bitch is a present from the gods! Moaning for more, her prayers are answered as an eager tongue swirls into her foaming pit and laps the honey-drenched walls. "Jesus!" the whore cries out again, think she has died and gone to heaven.

But the redhead keeps eating her in an ungodly fashion. Using her tongue as a ladle, she spoons load after load of hot broth into her gulping mouth. Each trip to the pot earns a suck-kiss from the hairy lips that threaten to pull her taste organ out by the roots. It's a game of cat and mouse, and the pussy always wins. But the whore loves playing like this and repeatedly releases the tongue so the game can go on. 

Unbidden by the whore or her inner voice, Sandy now pushes the envelope of pleasure, circling her tongue around the blonde's anus and sneaking in to steal the forbidden dew. But the hooker's sphincter is as muscular as her cunt and suddenly clamps down on the anal thief like a vice cop busting a pervert. This new game is played much like the first, and to anyone watching, it's the dirtiest trick in town. Both women give it their all, and the bum thinks he has died and gone to Hollywood. For the sake of continuity, he plows his dick back into Sandy's asshole. 

Reaching for the whore's big tits, Sandy roughly milks them and smashes the spider. After trying on the nipple rings, she slides her hands down the sweaty slope and mangles the scorpion. Then she parts the folds of the wild bush to strangle the jungle queen. Now getting fucked up one side and down the other by a serial killer makes the whore launch a counter-attack. Bending forward to get at Sandy's oyster, she cracks it open, spreads it wide, and sucks out the pink pearl. The cock plumbing the nearby pit spatters her face with spray, and since it reminds her of fucking on a boat, she goes in over her head. The redhead's already drowning, but the tramp has no thought of throwing out a lifejacket. 


Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 1



It's no longer rape but a menage a trois, a fuck & suck in the bushes thinly veiled from the public's eye. But the girls on the wall are privy to everything. They see the cock reaming out the redhead's ass. They see her hips thrusting back. They hear her mouth pleasuring the whore's crotch. They hear the whore pleasuring hers. This is much better than a book.

When the tramp starts to tremble, Sandy pulls his dick out of her ass and rams it into her pussy. Her lovers don't know it, but she aims to knock herself up. For only a true whore would go out of her way to have a bum's baby--and a black one at that--and his will prove to her nagging conscience that she's finally embracing her real self. Besides, her biological clock is running down, and this might be her last chance to have a kid.

"Give it to me!" she begs the bum, stroking his cock with her cunt muscles and working hard for his cum. "Give me the biggest fucking load that you can!" Granting her request, the tramp moans loudly and injects a billion sperm deep inside Sandy's pussy. She also moans loudly while furiously pumping her cunt, milking the black shaft for all she’s worth while the whore squeezes the black balls. Together, the women extract every drop until the semen backs up in Sandy's pit. When it oozes back out onto her vulva, the whore sucks up the sweet cream and shares it orally with the redhead, rubbing her clit while the favor is returned. Sandy groans like a whore and orgasms. The blonde groans like a whore and orgasms. The tramp groans like a bum and keeps trembling.

Like seedy porn stars, the trio sustain their passion until it slowly dies out. But before they can get dressed and return to their productive lives, the girls on the wall applaud wildly and beg the perverse trio for an encore. Starved for praise, all are agreeable to the notion, the whore rolling onto her side to lazily finger Sandy's soupy cunt while the tramp kneels over the redhead’s face to clean his spent dick in her mouth. But though Sandy is exhausted, she doesn't stay passive, slowly thrusting and sucking as if waiting for the director to yell, "Cut!" But the girls watching on the wall don't want her to stop. Neither does the tramp and whore. All watch her big titties rise and fall. All watch her red pussy squirm. All watch her mouth suck on the black cock until it floods her mouth with fresh cum. 

It's cigarette time, and Sandy's lovers light up, flicking their ashes on the redhead for it seems the right thing to do. The tramp sticks his cigarette in Sandy's mouth. The whore sticks hers in the redhead's pussy. Sandy doubly inhales. No one utters a word. There's only the sound of the traffic on the other side of the wall...cars...trucks...and the rumble of a departing bus.

More time to kill. The smokes are stubbed out and the players return to their roles. Grunting...thrusting...sweating...sucking... 

But Carmen has a class to teach, and she's already ten minutes late. After licking her fingers dry, she pulls down her dress and returns to her own boring role.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 2



Finishing her creamy soup with a flourish of tongue and lips, Carmen cleansed her palate with strong, black coffee. She would have added a slender cigar to her meal's finale, but as the cafe didn't allow bad habits, she was forced to satisfy her cravings with caffeine and the crowd. The pair always stimulated her imagination, and she leaned back in her booth to observe the late afternoon diners, focusing on two women who had just taken stools at the counter. 

The tallest had dark hair and was taking her pants to the limit. Though the woman was clearly a size fourteen, she had squeezed into jeans meant for a anorexic cheerleader. However, her weight was evenly distributed over her large frame, and if you liked an Amazon who could kick your boyfriend's ass, this babe would get your heart pumping. Her friend was a lean, tanned blonde with high cheek bones and tight calves that suggested she went biking as regularly as her mother went hiking with Indians. Dressed in cutoffs and an old western shirt, she spun her stool from side to side like a child who found it hard to sit still. 

"All done?" the waitress asked, swinging by the professor's booth.

"Just beginning," Carmen replied. "But you can take the trash."

"And how was your soup?"

"Delicious! I even licked the bottom of the bowl!"

"Our chef will be delighted to hear that," the young woman replied. "She lives to please others, and you'll make her day. Would you like me to refill your cup?"

"Please," the professor said, finding delicious irony in the girl's phrasing.

"And can I bring you something for dessert?"

"I'll think about it for awhile," Carmen said. And this was exactly what she did, for with hot coffee and two Muses at the counter to inspire her, she was ready for a lusty stroll down Fantasy Lane. As always, she took along her favorite student. 

The semester has ended and Sandy goes looking for a summer job. Although she's smart and an excellent worker, the labor market is glutted, common in a college town. But being a determined woman, she walks the streets and knocks on many doors, filling out applications until her hand cramps. But even the minimum wage positions are denied her. 

"It's because of my age," she convinces herself, flumping down on a bus stop bench with the newspaper's want ads. "Now if I were twenty years younger like those two..." She stops her internal dialogue to listen to the conversation of the two girls passing by. 

"I made $800 last Friday," one claims. "And so could you! Your body's better than mine, and all you've got to do is wriggle your ass and do a few lap dances." 

"But I don't know if I could take off my clothes in public," the other replies. "I mean, it would make me feel so...well, cheap!" 

"At $100 an hour?" 

And then they are out of earshot. 

Sandy feels more frustrated and angry than ever. It doesn't seem right that she's virtually unemployable while uneducated bimbos can make scads of money dancing in gentlemen's clubs. How much skill did it take to strut naked in heels in front of a lonely man? It was simply take it off and rake it in. Legal prostitution. 

"What a hypocrite!" her inner voice intrudes. "If you're going to beat the moral drum, better do it softly! And quit bitching about your age, for that's not the problem, and you know it! Lots of men would love to see an older woman strip, and you'd probably make loads of money! So be honest! The only thing that's holding you back is your stupid, false modesty!" 

Ignoring the lecture, Sandy scans the want ads till a listing catches her eye.

Mature individual to manage video rental store. 

No experience required. $15 hr. 

"There's got to be a catch," she says to herself, tearing out the ad and quickly hopping on the bus before the driver can get cute. "Don't be so negative," her conscience scolds her as she takes a seat in the back. "It might be right up your line. Besides, how are you planning to pay your rent? By winning the lottery?"

Re-reading the ad, Sandy sees that the address is just a few blocks away. She tugs on the cord above her, reluctantly, and the bus rumbles to a stop. The female driver looks into her rear view mirror and snaps her gum impatiently. Her expression, half sneer and half leer, leaves an ambiguous impression on the redhead as she steps down onto the curb. Why does this woman always look at her so? And more doubts cloud Sandy's brain when she sees an 'Adults Only' sign marking the entrance to the store she's seeking.

She pauses outside the green-colored door to check the address. Unfortunately, it matches, and a groan escapes her lips. What should she do? The store's windows are painted black, so she can't peek in, and her mind concocts a lurid picture of orgies and police line-ups. Feeling jittery just being near such a place, she looks around as if she were being followed. Biting her lip, she thinks about leaving, but the bus now pulls away, the driver's grinning face staring back at her in the side mirror. "Damn it! Go in!" her inner voice orders her. "What's the worst that can happen? You've come this far, so at least check it out! Don't be such a prude! You might even catch a thrill!"

Feeling flushed and sweaty, Sandy takes a big breath and crosses the threshold. She expects the interior to be criminally dark and stifling hot with hookers in fishnet sashaying from trick to trick while junkies shoot up in the corner. But instead she finds the store to be clean, air-conditioned, and brightly lit, and not a single sex fiend jumps out to rape her. In fact, the store is empty except for an older man with a bad cough who's reading a magazine behind the counter. He doesn't look up, and Sandy quickly scans the place. It looks like an ordinary newsstand with magazines and colorful boxes lining the walls. But a closer look reveals that the material is all X-rated, for naked breasts and butts adorn every cover. But most intriguing is a pulsing red light hanging over a dark alcove in the back of the store. A faint humming is heard within, along with the sound of a coin falling into a slot.

Sandy suddenly feels a pair of eyes examining her.

"Feel free to look around," the owner says, setting an example by mentally removing her skirt and blouse. "If you need quarters, just ask. And please don't remove the wrapping from the mags. If you do, you'll be making a purchase."

Sandy stammers that she's there about the advertised job, pulling the torn ad from her purse as evidence. Drawing near the counter, she can't help but notice all the dildos and vibrators arranged in neat rows behind the glass. 

"Do you have any experience?" the man asks.

Sandy blushes, not sure what he means.

"Not a problem," he shrugs. "The job's pretty basic. And I'm willing to pay extra for someone who's honest and dependable." Not bothering to introduce himself or get up from his chair, he tosses her an application which falls to the floor. Moving behind the counter to retrieve it--and giving Sam a chance to peek down her blouse--she sees a VCR and a small television showing three naked women being naughty in the shower.

"The soap operas are getting racy," Sandy comments, trying to show some wit. 

But the owner isn't looking for a scholar and doesn't even grin. "If someone complains about a tape," he goes on, "we check it out before refunding their money. The world is filled with fucking liars and and scumbags, and you can't trust anybody."

Sandy nods and keeps her eyes on the application. The form is simple to fill out, asking little more than her phone number and if she's ever been in prison. She finishes it quickly and hands it back, not knowing where to direct her eyes. The owner coughs while looking over her entries and takes a drink from a bottle bearing a pharmacy label. 

"Hell of a cold," he says. And then adds, "When can you start, Sandy?"

"If I’m hired, you mean? Well, I guess--"

"How about today?"

"You mean...right now?"

"I'll show you the ropes," he informs her. "Then I'm going home to die. My name's Sam, and you'll be working under me. Everyone calls me Uncle Sam, so if anyone asks what you do for a living, just say you work for the government. Okay?"

Before Sandy can say she'd like to think about it, Sam tells her about the cash register and the code numbers and the rental slips and how to unjam the camera in booth #4 and Dirty Harry who practically lives in booth #6 and thirty other things that go in one ear and out the other. Convinced that she can handle it, he dismisses her fears with a sickly wave of his hand and staggers out the door leaving her alone. 

Overloaded with details, Sandy tries to compose her thoughts, but the sexual scenery is everywhere and seems to leap off the walls. A police siren wails in the distance, and she imagines a goon squad crashing in and subjecting her to a strip-search on the sidewalk. Feeling dizzy, she collapses into Sam's infected chair, but the plastic cocks in the display case make her head swim even more. And while trying to remember everything Sam told her, the front door swings open and two young women enter. 

"Still thinking about dessert?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Something sinfully sweet to munch on over coffee?" the waitress asks.

"I'm already working on a nice of piece of pie," Carmen replied. "But you can fill me again, dear." The professor crossed her legs and slipped her hand under the napkin covering her lap. This wasn't her office, after all, but it did make it more exciting. Now where was she? Carmen sipped her coffee and studied the women at the counter before continuing her fantasy.

Sandy smiles nervously greeting her first customers. One is tall, solidly built, and has poured herself into her pants. Her companion. a raw-boned blonde clad in cutoffs, seems jumpy as if strung out on speed. They smile back at Sandy, showing no anxiety at being in a porn shop. After perusing the racks of videos and mags, they work their way to the back where they read the blurbs of the short films offered in the booths.

"Is #3 any good?" the tall woman calls out to the redhead.

"I...haven't seen it," Sandy confesses. "I just started working here today."

"If we don't like it, will you give us our quarters back?" the blonde asks.

"Sure," Sandy agrees, making a hasty executive decision.

The women disappear into the darkness, and a second hum is heard--followed by derisive groans. Returning looking cheated, they mill around the counter like vagrants.

"Way too fakey," the big woman in jeans says. "The babes looked bored and tired. I hate it when they just go through the motions. I mean, if you're being paid to fuck on film, then you ought to put out like a pro. Right?"

Sandy doesn't know how to reply, but she takes a few quarters from the till.

"What a sweetie pie," the blonde says, flashing her green eyes at the redhead and leaning over the counter to inspect the dildos, asking, "Which is your favorite?"

Again, Sandy is speechless. She smiles awkwardly and shrugs.

"So you like them all, huh?" the blonde says, delighted in making the clerk blush.

"Pay no attention to Wendy," her friend advises. "She was born in a barn like her mother. And it's nice to see a woman in here for a change. Sam's okay, but he's still a guy." 

The Amazon introduces herself as Jean and trades small talk with Sandy while the blonde prowls the shelves. Apparently finding something spicy, Wendy asks if she can preview it. Before Sandy can give the go ahead, the blonde loads the tape into the VCR as if she does it all the time. She then sits on the armrest of Sandy's chair and watches two women undress and fondle a third.

"She's got great tits!" Wendy says. "Shit! They must be Z-cups!"

Jean goes behind the counter to take a look, but the action bores her. "I've seen it already," she drones. "The titty-play gets me wet, but the fuck scenes are boring. And they only use a single dildo." She turns her attention to a catalogue on the counter and rests her elbows on the glass while paging through it. In this pose, her denim-clad ass lies directly in Sandy's view. 

Wendy sees the cough syrup Sam has left behind and reads the label. "Good stuff!" she pronounces. "It's got Codeine in it." Smiling knowingly at Sandy, she says, "I bet this keeps you hot and horny! Mind if I take a hit?" Before Sandy can say it's not hers, the blonde takes a big swig, shivers, and says, "Yeah!" Then she offers some to the redhead.

"No thanks. And it's not mine, anyway. You see--"

"So you're too good to drink with me, huh?" Wendy taunts. "Boy, you are an uppity bitch!" She says it jokingly and Sandy laughs with her, and when the blonde presses the bottle on her again, Sandy's inner voice tells her to be more sociable. Thinking it might help calm her nerves, she takes a sip of the liquid narcotic. 

The blonde's eyes turn back to the video, but Sandy has trouble ignoring the butt looming in front of hers. Wendy misreads Sandy's emotions and teases her about being more interested in Jean's curves than those on the screen. The redhead immediately denies it, but Wendy goes after her like a prosecutor. 

"You obviously like Jean's ass," she accuses. "So why not just admit it?"

"I do not!" Sandy insists, though her laughter weakens her defense.

Jean glances over her shoulder. "You don't think I've got a nice ass?"

"I didn't say that," Sandy defends. "You've got a very nice ass. But--"

"She'd really like to kiss it!" Wendy assures her friend.

"I do not!" the redhead protests, pushing back when Wendy pushes her.

Jean ignores their spat and goes back to her catalogue, saying, "If she wants to kiss my ass, that's fine with me."

Since coaxing failed, the blonde resorts to force, playfully grabbing a fist full of red hair and pulling the head forward. "I know you want to!" Wendy says. "So now's your chance!"

"She won't give up until you do," Jean sighs, long accustomed to Wendy's ways.

Woozy from the Codeine and the wrestling match, Sandy surrenders and bestows the desired kiss. "Now are you happy?" she asks the blonde.

"That was too fakey!" Wendy complains. 'I want to hear smacking sounds from your lips like you mean it! Now do it right this time!"

Wendy twists Sandy's arm behind her back, and though the action is punctuated with giggles, the pain is genuine. Since her face is practically touching the bulging Levis, Sandy plays the good sport and delivers a noisy kiss.

"Both cheeks!" the blonde orders, escalating her demands while keeping her hold. "If you only do one, the other will get jealous!'

Sandy fights her captor with an exerted effort, but the blonde is superior in strength. Having no other recourse, she obeys--but does so with an exaggerated flourish.

"Don't get smart with me!" Wendy teases, slapping Sandy as mock punishment. Sandy laughs in spite of the stinging pain, but the blonde proves serious about continuing her domination. "Admit it, slut! You love pleasuring another woman's ass! And you wanted to kiss Jean's fantastic butt the moment you laid eyes on her! Now confess!"

Sandy tries to deny it, but a sharp twist on her arm forces a laughing affirmative.

"Now do it with passion!" Wendy commands. "Right on her crack! That's where you yearn to kiss her, so give in to your deepest desires!"

Unable to think or see clearly, Sandy yields to the pressure and kisses the seam. Watching with wicked eyes, Wendy orders her to make the kiss French. Since her arm is already aching, Sandy sticks out her tongue and drags it through the taut denim crotch.

"Mmmm!" Jean says without turning around. "Nice tongue! I felt that right through my pants! Make her do it again!"

Wendy pushes Sandy's face into Jean's butt as if trying to smother her. Jean pushes back, and the redhead starts gasping. It's a reverse game of tug-o-war, and the rule book is tossed when Wendy goes after Sandy's tits. Jean plays dirty herself, rolling her hips in erotic circles. The redhead squirms to evade the suffocating ass and the pinching fingers, but the blonde and her buddy won't be denied. In resignation, Sandy quits struggling and lets the girls abuse her body.

After getting their fill, Jean goes back to her catalogue, and Wendy releases her prisoner. She laughs at the redhead's flushed face while helping herself to more cough syrup. Sandy finds herself laughing, too. For the girls, though mean and nasty, obviously have no problems with their consciences, and she secretly admires their candor and lack of shame.

Apparently coming down with a cold herself, Wendy gulps the Codeine as if it were a Coke, but when she passes the bottle to Sandy, the redhead begs off. The blonde doesn't like to drink alone, however, and after taking another hit, she grabs the redhead by her hair and pulls her close for a long syrupy kiss.

Everything's going too fast for Sandy. She has yet to come to grips with the idea of working in a porn shop--much less being hired on the spot and left to run by herself. But combining that with the aggressive overtures of two sluts and the ingestion of a narcotic puts her somewhere between Cloud 9 and the Twilight Zone. Having lost all sense of time and space, she's only aware of the warm lips pressed into her own. Though the sensation is far from unpleasant, it sets off an alarm in Sandy's head, and she responds by fidgeting.

"Now stop that!" her conscience angrily intrudes, sending a jolt of pain into her gut. "This is something you should actively seek, not resist! Aren't you always complaining about not being desirable? Well, this blonde wants you in the worst way, and so does her big friend! And an aging whore like you can't be picky about her lovers! So quit playing the good girl and simply be yourself! Besides, these girls are experts who can teach you a lot! So study hard!" 

Another jolt makes Sandy groan, and she nods her head furiously. Gauging her reaction as a sign of desire, Wendy turns up the heat, offering her tongue to the redhead. Sandy quickly fastens her lips around it and sucks till her cheeks indent.

Intrigued by the sounds coming behind her, Jean peeks over her shoulder like a suspicious chaperone at an all-girls' camp. "Are you two making out behind my back?"

"What does it look like it?" Wendy mumbles, keeping her mouth glued to Sandy's.

"It looks like a stacked redhead is going to get fisted by a sluttish blonde," Jean replies, watching Wendy tug up Sandy's skirt to get at her pussy. Always willing to help a friend, Jean starts unbuttoning the redhead's blouse.

A stubborn surge of rebellion courses through Sandy, and she swats away the hands undressing her. "No!" she protests. "This isn't right!" But remembering her harsh conscience she quickly adds, " I mean...what if someone were to come in?"

Jean glares at her with authoritative eyes that say "Hush!" like a stern librarian. But the slap she gives Sandy is more reminiscent of a cruel Jell-O wrestler. Coupled with the blow, Jean's dominant gaze silences further objections. And the long kiss that follows allows her to remove all of Sandy's clothes without interference. 

Wendy watches Jean play with Sandy's tits, roughly, then she eagerly goes after the redhead's bush. Delighted by its flaming color, she combs her fingers through the red curls and probes the sweaty slit. Her ears detect a chorus of pleas coming from the counter, each dildo begging to be put into service. Too soft-hearted to ignore their calls, the blonde selects a long black one with life-like veins to take the tour of the clerk's pussy. After greasing the shaft with cough syrup, Wendy teases the clit with the head, and Sandy's thighs part at the first touch. The blonde grabs her ankles and plants them high on the counter. Smiling devilishly at the now gaping hole, Wendy plunges the dildo into the moist darkness. 





Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 2



Sandy moans and contracts her abdomen as if giving birth, but the burning pain subsides as her mucous membranes absorb the narcotic. Her pussy looks so sweet gagging on the dildo that Wendy butters a vibrator for her ass as well. "God!" Sandy groans as the shaft invades her anus, and more divine words follow when the vibrator is turned on. 

Jean keeps busy working on Sandy's D-cups, squeezing them from the base and sucking the nipples hard. This is certainly better than shooting the breeze with Sam or watching bored actresses fake orgasms. And she wonders how long it will be until the old pervert comes out of his booth to witness the live show. 

Sandy is lost in a dreamy world of chaos and lusty confusion. The Codeine has hit home like a hammer, and her inhibition has abandoned her like a sleazy lover. Spread wide like a rag doll and practically inverted, she shudders as Wendy adds her mouth to the arsenal attacking her crotch. With the vibrator buzzing in her ass and the dildo churning honey in her hole, she imagines herself naked in the woods being stung by a swarm of bees.

"Isn't Wendy a great muff diver?" Jean asks. Instantly the redhead finds herself at sea on a raft. The narcotic has made her a slave to suggestion, and when Jean unzips her pants, Sandy sees a pearl diver peeling off her wetsuit. Though Japanese zeros are dive- bombing them, Jean remains amazingly calm. As she strips, her ivory thighs appear, their whiteness contrasted by a thick patch of seaweed. 

"I bet you're starving!" Jean says, stroking her bush until a trickle of juice falls to the floor. Suddenly craving a juicy steak, Sandy nods and watches one brought to her table. She pokes it and sees that it's been prepared just right--charred black on the outside and hot pink in the middle. But as she stuffs her mouth, she wonders what's biting her under the table.

Wendy rests her jaws to watch Sandy dine on Jean's cunt. "Make her eat your butt, too!" the blonde urges. "She can lick your asshole for real now that your pants are off!"

No stranger to lesbian cuisine, Jean whips up dessert with her middle finger while the redhead finishes her entree. When Sandy's lips glisten from having licked her plate clean, Jean presents her royal buttocks to the lowly clerk, commanding, "Worship my queenly ass!"

Like a lady-in-waiting, Sandy honors each cheek with an oral bow, then curtsies her tongue up and down the hairy seam bestowing humble kisses where haughty lips seldom go.

"That feels so fucking good!" Jean says, undulating her hips like a hula dancer. Sandy's now on a tropical isle--one rocked by a sudden explosion. For Jean releases a fart with the force of an erupting volcano. The blast blows Sandy up against the wall, and smoke pours from her mouth while her holes spew lava. Clearly a natural disaster fan, Jean delights in Sandy's agony, manipulating her nipples like spigots to increase the molten flow. 

"Pedal to the metal!" she urges Wendy. And with a double shove, the blonde buries her love toys in the redhead's holes. Now in a sports car spinning out of control, Sandy begs the crazy driver to stop. But Wendy has never braked for anything in her life, and she twists her toys like the knobs on a radio until the volume is deafening. "Come for us, whore!" she taunts the tormented clerk. "Show us how you spurt when you make fuck movies for Sam!"

Wendy's driving results in a crash that leaves Sandy sprawled on the floor. But instead of being knocked unconscious, she remains highly focused, for she's now working on a movie set and is determined to please her coughing director. The makeup girl powders Sandy's face with her ass while the blonde grip hides a microphone in her cunt. But the wire shorts out, and the resulting shocks make Sandy flop like a fish. Her moans are muffled by the big powder puff, but they're still loud enough to be heard back in the booths. Cock in hand, Dirty Harry comes out to take in the floor show. Though drool drips from his mouth and uncut dick, he's greeted like a matinee idol. 

"Look who's here!" Jean says to Sandy, making her kneel before Harry's vulgar cock. "Your co-star has arrived to shoot your big scene! Now aren't you the lucky one!" 

Sandy sees Harry as lean, thirtyish, and definitely non-Jewish. So when the fat, bearded, dirty old man slaps his warped dick against her mouth, she smiles lovingly, letting the dripping head slicker her full lips. Then she hungrily kisses her co-star's cock, sucking it hard and running her tongue under the foreskin. The dick curls up high and tight, and the head dribbles pre-fluid well above the navel. Its length and power make Sandy see stars, and she strokes the crooked shaft with both hands while mouthing the greasy scrotum.

"That is so fucking romantic!" Jean says, nearly shedding a tear. "No bride on her honeymoon ever gave sweeter kisses! Now consummate your vows and make a love child!"

Fully into character, Sandy lies back and pulls the groom on top of her. One hand guides his bent penis into her pussy while the other caresses his face, drawing it near her own for a long kiss. Her legs swing up to hug her hubby's waist, and a single thrust from her hips drives his dick home. A sharp moan emanates from deep in her gut, but it's followed by a pleasurable purr as she sucks the saliva off her hubby's tongue. 

The vibrator is still stuck in Sandy's anus, so feels the twin force of steel and flesh. But in her mind, both are credited to her marvelous lover, and she works hard to match his incredible contribution. Soon every pore on her body oozes sweat as she thrashes like a beast caught in a snare. Her hips buck upward with repetitive slaps, and her belly rubs in rhythm with the fat gut rubbing hers. Her titties swell fat in her lover's hands, and his hairy ass tingles in hers. Both add realism to the scene by grunting like fucking pigs. 

Jean masturbates while kneeling over Sandy's face, and her cum gushes down in a shower. Wendy's juice finds the redhead's mouth by way of her restless fingers which are readily accepted and sucked clean to the third knuckle. Now spattered in feminine goo, Sandy begs her fabulous co-star for his cum. Though a severe film critic who's sparing in his praise, Dirty Harry rewards the redheaded actress with the Adult Oscar, his cock shooting out waves of creamy applause that buffet the walls inside her theater and spill out into the lobby. 

"Drain his dick like a Hong Kong whore!" Wendy orders, and Sandy digs her nails into Harry's butt as if acupuncturing his ass. Trying to flee the needle-like pain, he drives his cock deeper into her hole. Her cuntlips close around him like a living fortune cookie, choking his dick with a squid-like grasp that milks him like a monster. Frightful cries fly from both throats, but they work together like chopsticks. His dick keeps spurting. Her cunt keeps squeezing. Jean and Wendy rub themselves raw, trembling like exhausted rickshaw drivers.

Harry finally escapes the insatiable cunt and checks to see if he's missing any parts. "This fucking bitch can't get enough!" he gasps. "She needs to be gang-banged and bad!"

Since no other men are in the store, the dildos are pressed into action, and Jean begins inserting them into Sandy's twitching pussy. The first one practically slides in by itself, but the next requires effort. The third seems impossible until Jean rolls Sandy onto her side and holds one leg aloft. Finally, a fourth is wedged into the redhead's anus to give the lone vibrator company. Now with five lady-pleasers lodged in her holes, Sandy moans in a manner that would intimidate a ghost-buster. Her gasping mouth reminds Wendy that there's still one hole to fill, and the blonde crams a fat pink dildo down her throat.

"Now I bet you're happy!" Jean teases. "Like fucking six guys in the back of a truck, and each one's a hung, nut-busting stud!"

"And a close relative!" Wendy adds, conjuring up an incestuous orgy.

Sandy's mind works the same magic as her six hung brothers ream out her holes. It's a taboo desire she's had since a kid, and she gives in to it like the farmer's daughter--if the farm is located near Peyton Place. She clutches her breasts with talon-like force as fierce jolts of pleasure-pain pulse in her gut. The sensations run through her entire body, arousing every muscle and nerve with agonized zest. Her brain boils over like a steaming cauldron, images of cocks and cunts simmering in her eyes. An orgasm builds like a gathering storm, and though she begs her body to delay its release, the lightning strikes without warning. 

"Ohhhhhhhh!!"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes...I...I just had a sudden cramp," Carmen said.

"That time of the month, huh? I get some powerful ones myself," the waitress confessed. "But I find that a long hot bath makes it better."

"It certainly does!" Carmen agreed, leaving a $20 tip and hurrying home to her tub.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 3



Carmen hit a soft lob over her opponent's head and charged to the net. The blonde she was dueling hustled back to the baseline and returned a cross-court shot that made the professor lunge and lose her balance The ball died on her racket, as did the match, and the blonde jogged up to the net wearing the victor's grin.

"Great shot," Carmen mumbled. "I thought I had you where I wanted you."

"You never can tell," the blonde replied. "Looks are often deceiving. So do you want to tangle with me again?"

"Definitely!" the competitive professor said, barely hiding her anger at losing. "But before I kick your ass, I'm going to catch my breath and watch you demolish another sucker. You must have a weak spot somewhere I can exploit." 

"My game's pretty solid," the blonde boasted. "In fact, some of my partners say I should turn pro. But you're welcome to scout my moves."

As the blonde started a new game with a clumsy brunette, Carmen picked up her gear and climbed the steps to the deck overlooking the courts. The tables were all vacant, and she sat at one close to the action below. After ordering a screwdriver from the waitress, she propped her feet on the rail letting the breeze blow under her short skirt. Exercise and heat normally made her sleepy, but the defeat at the hands of the athletic blonde kept her animated and steaming.

"This should cool you down," the waitress said, serving Carmen her drink.

"It will probably make me hotter!" the professor snapped. For alcohol always brought out her mean side, and after a single sip, she felt the urges of fantasy pluck her harshest mental strings. As images of pain and suffering burned in her head, she slumped back in her chair to plot her revenge--taking out her anger on her favorite student.

Sandy receives word from the Register's office that she needs a physical education credit in order to graduate. It seems stupid to her, especially at her age, but she signs up for a self-defense class that meets once a week in the afternoon.

Not knowing what to wear, she brings a short skirt and a halter top to the locker room, dismayed that the other women in the class are much younger and have brought sweat suits. Disrobing in a corner, she tries to ignore the naked bodies around her, but her eyes stray toward the other lockers and steal glances at the various shapes. 

Most of the girls are small-breasted and lean, and many sport body art on their ankles, shoulders, and breasts. But one dark-haired coed seems to have grown up in a tattoo parlor--and a seedy one at that. For a virtual menagerie of insects adorn the canvas of her flesh. The young woman has beetles crawling across her shoulders, hornets stinging her breasts, a scorpion clinging to her bush, ants marching down her arms, flies buzzing on her back, roaches biting her thighs, and spiders weaving an intricate web over her butt.

As if this weren't enough to drive her mother to suicide, the girl has also pierced her nose, navel and nipples with gleaming silver rings. As she bends over to pull up her shorts, Sandy sees that the girl's pubes have not been spared either, for a triple set of large hoops dangle from her shaved pussy lips like an X-rated candelabra. 

The girl senses Sandy's prying gaze and turns to confront her. No words are spoken, but Sandy blushes at being caught snooping and turns her attention to her shoes. As she bends over to tie the laces, she's suddenly aware that the tattooed girl has turned the tables, for Sandy's halter top has fallen away from her body leaving her hanging breasts in full view. Afraid to meet the girl's gaze, Sandy spends much time on her laces, and when she finally looks up, she's relieved to find that the circus freak has gone. But a scrap of paper has been left next to her on the bench. And on the paper, a blue pill. 

Sandy reads the note several times as if it's written in code. There are only four words--THIS WILL HELP YOU. But who left it? The tattooed girl? And what was the pill? A sedative? Acid? Sandy's inner voice suddenly intrudes to tell her to shed her fears and relax. "Loosen up, will you? For Christ's sake, not all people are evil. Some can be regular sweethearts if you give them half a chance. Besides, that girl turned you on, and you know it! So accept her little gift and go with the flow. What's the worst that can happen?"

Torn with indecision, Sandy bites her lip and swallows the pill. Immediately, a surge of heat invades her gut, and the image of a menacing spider flashes in her mind. Feeling frightened and dizzy, she stumbles out of the locker room and makes her way to the gym where the other girls and a tall, tough-looking blonde are waiting for her.

"Nice that you could join us," the blonde coldly greets the redhead. "Now that we're finally all here, let's see if I can teach you something about abusing the human body."

The instructor, an ex-Marine, introduces herself as Ann, and begins the class by showing her students a chart detailing weak spots on males. No one is surprised that the eyes, throat, and groin are targeted, but few have ever considered attacking the shins or the knees. Ann asks for a volunteer to play the attacker so that she can demonstrate a few techniques on a real body, and not surprisingly, no one lifts her hand. Ann's eyes fix on Sandy, and though the redhead tries to become invisible, she's drafted into service anyway. 

"Now we'll have to use our imagination," Ann says, "because Sandy could hardly pass as a guy--not with her big D-cups!" Everyone laughs except the tattooed girl who just grins and licks her lips. 

Ann now orders Sandy to grab her from behind, and when the redhead does, Ann slips under her arms and throws her over her shoulder. The action is completed gracefully and with finesse, but the redhead lands clumsily, and the momentum swings her breasts free of her halter. Stunned by the impact, she's slow to stow her jugs back in their wrapper, and several girls giggle while one in particular murmurs approvingly.

"You see out effective that was?" Ann says to the class. "Now if I was really pissed off and had chosen to finish her off--I mean him--he would be totally at my mercy. A few few kicks to her cunt--I mean, balls--would leave him gasping." Not satisfied with merely stating her strategy, Ann demonstrates the maneuver to drive her point home. Grabbing one of Sandy's legs, she holds it aloft and feigns several kicks to the redhead's naked crotch. The action causes Sandy's skirt to ride up, and her pantiless pussy is exposed to all.

The instructor clearly notices it, too, but meanly keeps a grip on Sandy's leg. "And don't be afraid to grind your heel in," Ann adds, placing her foot on Sandy's hairy mound and delivering a mock attack. "This pervert is trying to hurt you, after all, and you've got a right to punish her--I mean him--to the max." The action, though simulated, prevents Sandy from covering her crotch, and her red pubic curls draw more giggles from the class--and one admiring leer.

"It appears," Ann now says to her class, "that Sandy has yet to discover a razor! A few of you girls ought to drag her out of her cave and make her look more civilized!" Only now does the blonde release Sandy's leg--but she's far from finished with the redhead. "Now get up, you hairy beast, and come at me from in front."

Embarrassed and sweating, Sandy gets to her feet but hesitates.

"Come on!" Ann orders. "Make a big play for me. Think like a drooling pervert and try to satisfy your animal lust!"

Sandy isn't sure what the instructor wants her to do, but being a good sport, she rushes forward. With one smooth motion, the blonde pivots, grabs Sandy by her arm, and wedges a foot between her legs. The action sends the redhead flying, and once more she winds up both topless and exposed. 

"I think she likes flashing her charms!" Ann says to the class. "Something tells me she's more at home in a bar--probably working on her knees! Now I'll demonstrate one last technique with the help of our hairy lecher here. But this is only for women who know what they're doing and want to live dangerously. I'm going to let my stacked assailant think she's--he's--getting lucky, but that's only to gain the advantage. Okay, Sandy. Pretend I'm standing on a street corner, and you're intent on getting in a cheap feel. And don't say you'd never do such a thing because you've got closet pervert written all over you!"

The girls all laugh, but Sandy nearly panics. She doesn't like the direction this class is heading and feels like running away. But her conscience steps in to rebuke her for her fears. "Forget about fleeing! You're going to stay put and follow your instructor's orders! Now this blonde obviously knows you very well, and she can teach you a lot about yourself! So swallow your pride and do everything she says! Understand?"

Fearing punishment from her inner voice, Sandy cautiously approaches the tall blonde. She reaches up and grabs Ann's firm breasts and...nothing happens. The instructor just smiles. Sandy then slides her hands down Ann's hips and grabs her firm buttocks. Again, she encounters no resistance. 

"Want a kiss, honey?" Ann purrs, stroking Sandy's hair. "Come and get one." She pulls Sandy close, seductively. But just as their mouths are about to meet, the blonde's hands get busy, one grabbing the redhead by her throat, the other commanding her crotch. "Now if Sandy had a pair of balls," Ann says to her charges, "she'd be in trouble, especially after a good squeeze like this! And if that doesn't do the trick, there's always this!" Ann suddenly swings her knee up into the redhead's crotch. The blow is more simulated than real, but it sends the redhead crashing to the mat anyway.

By now the whole class is aroused and itching to try these moves on each other. No one teams with the tattooed girl, so Sandy is forced to work with her. The girl, named Randi, prefers to practice the last maneuver that Ann demonstrated, letting Sandy get very lucky before grabbing her crotch and strangling her. Sandy senses that the girl is interested in more than self-defense, but all the falling and jostling have taken their toll. So has the pill she's swallowed, raising her body temperature, increasing her heart rate, and disorienting her terribly. So when it's Sandy's turn to invite her assailant to a quick feel and a kiss, she's so flustered that she lets Randi play with her nipples until they swell as large as walnuts.

"You're supposed to grab me now," Randi says, guiding the redhead's hand down to her crotch. "I don't have balls, but you can feel my rings. I saw you staring at them in the locker room. And I see that you got my note." The tattooed girl then grinds her pelvis into Sandy's fingers while breathing heavily into her face.

"And how are we doing here?" Ann asks, coming over to the odd couple. "Neither of you is groaning on her back, and something tells me that's where you both want to be!" 

Randi grins at the double meaning of the instructor's words, but Sandy just blushes. Her body is overheated, she's sweating like a pig, and strange waves of dark desire threaten to overwhelm her. The bell rings dismissing the class, and she feels that her torment is over. But Ann has other ideas. She wants to photograph Sandy and Randi in various poses as illustrations for a training manual. The tattooed girl is eager to help. Sandy just nods dumbly and follows her new friends like a sheep.

The other girls have left without showering, so the trio have the locker room all to themselves. Ann collects her camera and innocently suggests that the girls get naked. Only other women will be seeing the pictures, she argues. And this way, the target zones can be clearly illustrated. Randi strips naked in a flash, exposing her many piercings and bug tattoos. Ann is aroused and doesn't hide it, giving Randi a smile that's anything but coy. But Sandy is totally captivated by the insects, staring at them literally bug-eyed. They seem alive to her, ready to crawl off the girl's body and go after her flesh instead. 

"Sandy obviously loves your tattoos," Ann says to Randi. "Why don't you dance for her a bit and make them move?"

Randi readily complies, mimicking the creatures adorning her body by crawling on the floor and emitting buzzing sounds. Her 'dance' brazenly displays her intimate parts, especially her web-covered ass which she purposely gyrates directly in Sandy's eyes.

Ann begins taking photos at once--just to make sure that her camera is functioning properly--and she continues to do so when Randi assists the redhead in getting undressed. Clearly, Randi isn't intimidated by the camera. Rather, she seems accustomed to posing nude with another woman. As for Sandy, she's totally unaware of what's happening, for the girl's dance has hypnotized her, leaving her a zombie. Now naked, the two women make for a truly odd couple, and Ann takes several shots of them just standing together, delighting in the contrast of figure and flesh. 

"You two should make a naughty movie together!" Ann says. "You complement each other so nicely! I know I'd run out and buy the tape! Anyway, let's start with a few classic situations. Randi, you be the attacker, and Sandy will defend. Now squash your inhibitions and make it look good!"

The action begins with a lewd titty grab in front of a locker, Randi tugging on Sandy's nipples as if they were made of rubber. This is followed by a forced kiss, the young woman plunging her tongue down the redhead's throat while straddling her on a bench. Now moving to the floor, Randi thrusts three fingers into Sandy's snatch as if looking for her lost car jeys. 

Ann's pictures--all terrific--are also all failures. For they have nothing to do with self- defense. There's too much kissing, for one thing, and not all the kisses are on the mouth! For Randi has a sweet tooth, and the sugar she finds in a certain candy-red pussy make her repeatedly attack Sandy below the waist. 

But the snapshots fail for another reason--Sandy refuses to fight back. In fact, she seems inclined to let Randi mug her, surrendering to every one of the tattooed girl's desires. This is partially due to Sandy's powerful inner voice which urges her to explore all outlets for her repressed sexuality. But the tab of Viagra she has swallowed contributes too, sending a flood of blood swirling into her anxious loins and making them drip juice hotter than grease on a griddle.

Swirling too are the insects in Sandy's eyes--especially the spiders. These she sees up close, for her face is being smothered by female ass, one covered with an intricate black web spun around a gaping anus. Ann urges the redhead to defend herself, and she tries to comply, using her lips to smash the spiders which stubbornly refuse to die. "Attack their nest!" Ann orders, her voice now taking over for Sandy's conscience. With blind zeal, a long tongue gallantly labors to root out the detestable spiders. At last the redhead is fighting back, and Ann's camera clicks away.

But Randi, teeming with wicked strategies, throws Sandy's legs over a bench so she's nearly inverted. The girl's sharp teeth and metallic tongue then swoop down on the red pussy like a vampire. Within seconds, hot juice spurts into the air like a geyser and is accompanied by deep groans. It's one of Sandy's best orgasms, and her cries resonate off the concrete walls like bestial cries in a cave. She responds by trying to swallow Randi's gleaming pussy rings, but though she gulps down mouthfuls of nectar, the rings sneer at her efforts and stubbornly stay in place. However, it makes for a terrific struggle, and the blonde takes a whole series of close-ups.

"Outstanding!" Ann says. "This is going to make a great fucking manual! It's even better than the one I made while in the military! But let's push the envelope and take it up a notch! I want you to get super mean and tough, Randi! Pretend you're the drill sergeant in boot camp, and Sandy is a naughty recruit! Better yet, pretend she's also you're slut-slave! Punish the bitch hard and make her suffer like a pain-loving whore!"

Straddling Sandy like a wrestler, Randi begins slapping her face with both hands, delivering sharp blows that knock her head from side to side. After a good dozen whacks on each cheek, Randi goes to work on the redhead's tits, using them like punching bags and delighting in watching them swell.

"Excellent!" Ann says. "That's exactly how I disciplined naughty girls in the Marine Corps! But don't forget the nips! Sandy needs them punished as well!"

Randi doesn't forget. Pinching Sandy's buds with her thumbs and two fingers, she twists the nipples as if winding an alarm clock, then stretches them out till they snap back like knotted rubber bands. The girl does this over and over until the nipples extend nearly two inches. But though the pain is real, it's also perversely married with pleasure, and Sandy moans for more of the harsh treatment.

"Give her what she wants!" Ann orders, finding the action so steamy that she now gets naked herself, baring the long limbs and hard flesh of a dominant used to the dungeon. "Get her on her hands and knees and punish her fucking ass!"

After positioning Sandy in doggy, Randi does just that, using her feet to abuse the redhead's butt--letting her kicks occasionally fly up into the red-haired mound.

"That's it!" Ann praises her tattooed pupil. "Don't hold back! Punish every inch of her sluttish flesh! Believe me! She's loving this! Aren't you, you worthless piece of shit?"

"Yes!" Sandy cries, straining to hold her submissive stance. "I'm a cheap fucking whore who deserves to suffer! Please punish my sluttish body as hard as you can!"

"You heard her!" Ann says to Randi. "Do a number on this pathetic bitch! You'll find that redheads bruise easily! And it's so much fun to watch them suffer! But this one is special, so you'll need my help to do the job right!"

Lending her hands and feet to the cause, the sadistic blonde works on Sandy's tits and belly while the tattooed girl keeps punishing her ass. When Sandy slumps to the floor, Ann twists her arms behind her back and forces her to her feet, allowing Randi to concentrate on her front again. Before long, Sandy's body is covered with bruises, but she keeps begging the women for more. For every slap brings a deep tingle; every kick, a psychic shudder. And when the women double up on her nipples, she nearly comes from the titty sensations alone.

As if intent on cleaning up their act, Ann and Randi drag their slave by her hair across the floor and dump her into the showers. All the nozzles are directed at the redhead, and the hot water is turned on full blast. Randi kneels on Sandy's shoulders to keep her from squirming away from the stinging downpour, and Ann holds up one of her legs so the water can scorch her open crotch.

By now, Sandy's thoughts are a swirling mess, and she's forced to run on instinct. That means totally surrendering to her hidden nature which demands the most primitive and masochistic responses. As a result, she arches her cunt up high to catch the steaming water all the sooner, and when her battered breasts swell even greater in size, she revels in the heat and begs for punishment on her nipples. Grasping them like door knobs, Ann nearly pulls Sandy off the floor, and Randi turns her spiders loose on the redhead's face again. 

Sandy greets the attack with bestial lips and tongue, servicing not only the spiders but Randi's scorpion as well, madly sucking the curving tail stinging the ever-aroused clit. To deepen Sandy's anguish, Ann roughly probes her cunt, driving four fingers into the red-haired gash and rubbing hard on the clit. Sandy trembles from this hand-job like a hot sack of jelly, and she and Randi explode into orgasm like a pair of mismatched twins. 




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 3



It's now Ann's turn for a anal lez ride, and after leaping on Sandy like a cat, she smothers her with her sculpted ass, vigorously rubbing it up and down the redhead's puffy lips. Randi lends her evil fingers to the blonde's pert titties and clit, and Ann exalts in boot camp heaven while snarling like a tigress in heat.

"Suck me harder, you fucking scuzbag!" she orders Sandy. "Ream out my asshole with your cum-loving tongue! That's all you're good for, you miserable skank! So show me how fucking dirty you can be!"

Now Ann has been with lots of dirty women, but none so depraved as the redhead servicing her ass! For after burying her tongue in the blonde's sticky hole, Sandy swirls it around like a swizzle stick trying to scrape out the tabboo cream. Randi's sweet tooth drives her to assault Sandy's pussy in a like manner, and rolling onto her side, Ann completes the circle by sucking on Randi's pubes. It's now a three-way race to the finish line, and the tattooed girl hits the tape first. The blonde uses her strong muscles to hold out as long as she can but finally gives in with a ferocious scream to the mouth assaulting her cunt.

"Outstanding!" Ann says, now reclining and panting hard while her river of cum drains into Sandy's mouth. "This is going to be the best fucking semester yet! In fact, I would have left the Marines ages ago had I known the college action was this hot!"

"You're already my favorite teacher!" Randi said, kissing Ann sweetly while fucking Sandy's pussy with her toes. "I'm not going to miss a singe class!"

"I wish you had been in my unit!" Ann replies. "The fun we could have had in the barracks--especially if Sandy had enlisted with you! But we'll just have to make up for lost time--and you can be my teaching assistant! Now let's take this scuzzy redhead to the limit and see how much abuse she can handle!" 

Double-teaming Sandy, the women make her stand so they can practice knocking her down, punching her in the gut, kneeing her in the cunt, kicking her ass, slapping her face and titties--and always hauling her back to her feet by tugging on her nipples. The blows are accompanied by a steady stream of curses, and after twenty minutes of this, Sandy looks like a stacked ragdoll caught in a buffalo stampede. But never once does she complain, for the brutal treatment only makes her more horny, and she thrusts out her pubes for the low blows though her cuntlips have swollen to twice their normal size.

"You fucking whore!" Ann shouts, now putting Sandy in a headlock and wrestling her to the floor. "So you think you're too tough for me to break, huh? Well, I'll make you beg for mercy if it's the last fucking thing I do! What say we start with a face-lift?"

Ann begins hammering Sandy's face, punching her in the cheeks, nose, and mouth until all come close to bleeding. When the blonde grows tired, Randi takes over, delivering the same crisp blows as her cruel teacher. "Call me perverse," the tattoed girl says. "But I've always wanted to beat the shit out of some older fucking bitch!"

"I call you gifted!" Ann says, watching Randi abuse Sandy's body as if she were tenderizing a slab of meat. "And since this demented slut truly loves it, you'll get many delicious opportunitites! Now haul her to her feet so I can knock her down again!"

Doing as ordered, Randi watches Ann deliver a beautiful, sweeping sidekick that catches Sandy flush on the chin and sends her reeling in the concrete wall. This is followed by two more abdominal kicks that make the redhead bellow in agony. But her groans are all in the affirmative, and instead of rolling into a ball, she keeps her body open for more.

Now making her lie spread-eagled on the floor, Ann and Randi begin fisting her pussy and asshole. The steaming water and fierce beating have relaxed Sandy's holes, but the pair of probing hands are like two giant dicks. "Grab your ankles!" Ann orders Sandy, and the redhead labors to comply, opening her crotch to her female muggers like a trailer park whore. Two minutes of this seems like two years on the cross, but the suffering is mostly sexual and Sandy moans for more. 

"Get on your hands and knees!" the blonde commands, and Sandy strains to assume the doggy position, arching her ass like a back alley bitch, her gaping holes twitching in expectation. Now invading Sandy's pussy, the blonde buries her arm to the elbow while Randi mirrors her ambition, playing the miner in the redhead's anus. The double-fisting makes their slave twinge and howl in hellish agony. But the sensations are all heavenly to Sandy, and her body releases its horrific tension with a long series of orgasms, causing her to quiver and glow like a lightning rod while spurting fuck juice like a pierced bladder. 

"Enough!" Sandy finally pleads, now lying in a slimy heap on the floor. "I can't take any more! Please stop! Please--stop!"

"But you're coming to class next week, aren't you?" Ann says, sitting victoriously on the defeated redhead and threatening to rip off her nipples.

"Yes!" Sandy swears. "I'll show up! I promise!"

"And you're going to stay after class to be disciplined by Randi and me for at least two hours! Isn't that right, you filthy whore?"

"Yes! I love the way you punish my fucking body! I need it so badly!"

"You crave it!" Ann corrects her. "That's because you're a perverted ass-suck who needs to suffer in order to get off! And I'm just the woman to make your life a living hell!"

"Shit!" Randi says, meanly teasing Sandy's clit. "She should be servicing dogs in an alley till her holes get clogged by their cum! That's all this fucking bitch is good for!"

"An outstanding idea!" Ann says. "We'll bring a couple mutts in here next time so she can pleasure some lovers as hairy as herself! Can't you just see her grunting and sweating on all fours till doggy cum oozes from her fucking pores? And to top it off, we'll make her do it on film!"

"Yes!" Sandy moans, feeling another orgasm building. "I'll fuck and suck all the dogs you want! I'll do anything--anything! Only please--make me---come! Ohhhhhhh!" 

With Randi tormenting her clit and Ann milking her nipples, Sandy suffers one last orgasm that leaves her senseless and near dead. She also suffers one last humiliation, for as the women kneel over her exchanging sweet kisses, they also golden shower her face, filling her panting mouth with their steaming wine.

"Had your fill? Or do you want more?" 

"Huh?" Carmen asked.

"Are you going to take another crack at me or what?" the blonde asked, bouncing her tennis racket playfully on the professor's head. "I imagine that devious brain of yours has got a strategy worked out that will bring me to my knees."

Carmen returned a sly smile. "That’s exactly what I've got in mind for you! And I don't mind letting you know that I plan to do all the serving!"

And the two women went at it again.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 4



After locking the door to her office, Carmen slipped out of her dress and admired herself in the full-length mirror mounted on her office wall. Her new bra and panties, both midnight black and get-me-wet sexy, looked terrific on her thirty-something body. Succumbing to vanity, she felt herself up for a few moments before booting up her computer and going on-line. Her own image always got her in the mood to see other naughty women, and she checked a favorite bookmark to see if the site had been recently updated. As the pixels filled in, a blowzy blonde in her forties materialized on the screen, introducing herself as Cumly Carol and promising fulfillment--for a small fee--to all who harbored a taste for the truly nasty stuff. 

A longtime member of Carol's club, Carmen used her password to get inside, then clicked on the new pics icon, happy to see that a fresh batch of photos had been added showing the voluptuous older woman battling various vegetables and kitchen implements in her trailer house kitchen, assailing them with her hairy, scary pubes and always claiming victory. Each pic was a doozy in itself, suitable for framing, and Carmen, ever the academic, downloaded the entire file for future reference and study. 

After e-mailing her positive comments to the website's talented hostess, Carmen browsed through the banners of sponsors that Carol called her "friends." All were highly recommended, of course, but one caught Carmen's eye since it came with a warning, cautioning all of its extreme hard-core content. Clicking on the banner at once, she was magically transported to a Denmark website that offered a free introductory visit to all of Carol's customers.

Never one to refuse a gift, Carmen entered the site and was immediately greeted by two young animal lovers, for the way the girls petted and kissed and competed for the favors of their big, four-legged friend showed a deep concern for his happiness and well-being, especially when they coaxed the dog to come on their faces. Utterly disgusted by the girls' depraved behavior, Carmen frowned like a censor while copying the movie to her disk. The other movies and photos she viewed were equally raunchy and offensive, forcing her to fill out an application and join up at once. The credit card transaction taking mere seconds, she was now allowed access to the extensive archives, a huge collection of bestiality and other forms of perverse sex available to members in several formats, including wallpaper and screen-savers.

Leaning back in her chair with her heels propped on the desk, Carmen slipped a hand into her panties to stroke her aroused bush. The erotic images on her screen were good, but how much better they'd be if they featured her favorite graduate student instead! Clearly, it was time to call on Sandy to star in another fantasy, and this one promised to be the most sordid of all.

It's midday, sunny and hot, and Sandy has just come from a painful meeting with one of her female professors who has criticized her work to the point of ridicule, accusing her of being lazy and undisciplined and even questioning her right to be in college. Sandy takes the dressing-down hard, her poor self-image suffering another blow and making her feel that she should be scrubbing toilets in some seedy hotel instead of masquerading as a graduate student. 

To make matters worse, the meeting has caused her to miss her bus. Though she's wearing a light cotton dress unbuttoned in front as far as good morals allow, she's still very uncomfortable and is sweating profusely, the perspiration soaking her bra and running down her belly. It's a long walk to her apartment, one to be taken on treeless streets and burning sidewalks, but she takes her new heels off anyway, preferring scorched feet to stinging blisters. 

An old Plymouth cruises by, then pulls up ahead by the curb. As Sandy plods by, a familiar face pokes out the window and asks if she'd like a lift. It's the young brunette who often drives the bus leaving campus, and she tells Sandy that it's her day off, and that it's way too hot for anyone to walk. But there's something about the girl's toothy smile that makes Sandy squirm. She's seen it many times in the rearview mirror of the bus, often after being involved in highly embarrassing situations. Even now the girl seems to look at her knowingly, as if saying, "I know what you like to do, so don't deny it!" 

Sandy wants to refuse the ride, but her conscience overrules her, arguing that she keeps to herself far too much and that she should try to be more sociable. But after getting in, she discovers that the car lacks air conditioning. The front seat is hot enough to fry bacon, and the heat passing through her flimsy dress practically singes her buttocks. Of lesser torment are the flies that go after her as if she were rotting meat. The driver, introducing herself as Vicki, wears a dirty, sleeveless T-shirt, low-cut on the sides, that allows a peek at her breasts when her arms are raised and a view of her hairy armpits as well. Completing her ensemble is a pair of skin-tight, white leggings that haven't seen a washing for weeks. 

Unaffected by the heat or the flies, Vicki makes small talk with Sandy, asking about her classes and her teachers and peppering her language with vulgarity as they crawl through an endless series of red lights. "Fucking" is her favorite adjective, and she employs it in practically every sentence. And when Sandy tells her about the horrible meeting that she's just experienced, the young woman simply laughs it off, crudely suggesting that her teacher just wants her to put out--but not in an academic way. Now stalled at an intersection due to an accident involving a motorcycle and a young mother, the heat nearly overwhelms the redhead, and Vicki offers her a warm beer to help her cool off. Though it tastes sour, Sandy drinks it anyway to replenish her lost fluids and drive the flush from her cheeks.

After getting away from the congested campus streets, Sandy sighs with relief, closing her eyes and slumping back in the seat and throwing her feet up on the dash to take full advantage of the air blowing through the windows. Her dress falls down her sloping legs baring her milky thighs, and Vicki gets a glimpse of her red bush after turning the vent fan on high. The heat and the beer and the drone of the engine make Sandy woozy, but something doesn't feel right. Sitting up, she notices that they're nowhere near her apartment but are headed out of town. She points this out to Vicki who slaps herself on the forehead and says, "You dumb-fuck!" Though it's directed at herself, Sandy takes it personally, being primed to apply the lash to her own psyche. 

Vicki explains that she had simply headed home out of habit, adding that since they're so close to the trailer park where she lives with her fucking dad, why didn't they continue on where they could cool off for a bit and down a few cold ones?

Though uneasy with her suggestion and language, Sandy can't see how she can refuse, and when Vicki lights up a joint and passes it to her, she again feels forced to accept the girl's offer, rationalizing that the smoke will shoo away the flies. It doesn't. Rather, they seem to ride the fumes straight into her head, for in spite of being careful to take only a small drag, her brain immediately starts buzzing, the blood rushing to her face as if she were riding in the car upside-down.

Grinning at her reaction and seemingly anxious to get her high, Vicki urges her to take a really big hit, and thinking it might stop the buzzing, Sandy fully--and foolishly--inhales. Instantly, bright lights begin popping off before her eyes as if she were a famous runway model being photographed by her ardent fans. Slumping back on the seat with her legs thrown apart like some bad girl coming home from a date with twenty guys, she's assailed by a swirl of disturbing images that makes her pant and sweat like a dog, unaware that her dress has blown up to her waist, and that Vicki is having trouble keeping her eyes on the road. 

They keep driving for another twenty minutes, bouncing through the poorer parts of town where rusting cars are considered lawn ornaments and muddy-faced children are allowed to run naked. But this area is Park Avenue compared to the community they enter after pulling off the highway onto a dirt road. The trailer park apparently caters to the downwardly mobile and the perpetually unemployed, for several of the tenants are milling around their metal palaces drinking beer, chain-smoking, and incessantly shouting at their huge, barking dogs. The men, lean and shirtless, have long greasy hair and look like carnival workers recently paroled.

The women, however, are more corpulent, sporting relaxed abdomens and sagging breasts, and they've crammed their fleshy figures into spandex attire that makes them look like two dollar hookers willing to come down on their price. Now partially recovered, Sandy feels dirty just looking at these low-lifes, but Vicki waves at her seedy neighbors as if they were intimate friends, joking to her passenger about the park's racy motto: "You come in a virgin--and go out a whore."

As Sandy muses about the slogan, wondering if the stress should be placed on the prepositions or the verbs, the Plymouth runs out of gas in front of a battered trailer that looks like it had flirted with a tornado and got raped as a result. A sagging clothesline connects it to a dying tree, allowing the laundry pinned on the moldy rope--mainly yellowed bras and men's briefs--to drag on the ground. Not counting the dog shit, the yard itself is bare and colorless except for a single folding chair that has a hole in the seat, and a pair of plastic flamingos lewdly positioned so that one appears to be giving the other head; for no flowers can be seen anywhere, only prickly weeds, and if there ever was any grass around the place, the tenants probably smoked it.

The trailer itself is suitably coordinated with the yard, what with the door hanging on one hinge and the soiled curtain dangling out a window, suggesting that either the trailer's owners are blind or suffer assorted work allergies. But to their credit, they're clearly nature lovers, for though an empty metal trash can sits lonely nearby, a pile of paper sacks, all groaning with garbage, adorns the aluminum steps, the leaking residue from the discarded TV dinners and beer cans drawing a host of grateful insects and rats.

Disoriented as much by the squalor as by the drugs in her system, Sandy gets out of the car like a zombie, dumbly following Vicki like one of the big dogs who comes over to greet her and copulate with her leg. Her only thought is to get out of the heat and recover her senses. But her dazed condition has left her unbalanced, and she stumbles on the steps and falls onto the trash. Instead of helping her up, Vicki just laughs as if she were part of the garbage, thrown onto the pile after her usefulness was spent, for her dress is now torn, having caught on something jagged, and is rapidly developing permanent stains, the cotton material soaking up rank beer and rancid grease like a dish rag. Feeling saturated with filth, she doesn't see how Vicki can laugh, but her conscience thinks it's hilarious, announcing in a mocking voice that she's just been baptized into the elite ranks of the poor white trailer park trash. 

Since Sandy is incapable of extricating herself, Vicki mercifully lends her a hand, jerking her to her feet and kindly brushing the crud off her damp rear end, and after performing the task more thoroughly than is necessary, she loops her arm around the redhead's waist and escorts the woozy redhead inside. But Sandy discovers that the interior of the trailer offers scant relief, being cooled by a single, noisy fan whose overworked motor produces more heat than the blades can disperse. Everything in the place looks filthy--especially the adult magazines left in plain sight--and the floor is strewn with a variety of eyesores, including beer cans, cigarette butts, dirty underwear, jumper cables, rat traps, and assorted car parts. Making no comment, Sandy sinks into the tattered sofa where Vicki dumps her, trying to avert her eyes from the mess but finding unsettling sights everywhere she looks.

After going to the kitchen, Vicki returns with a couple of cheap generic beers, then plops herself down beside her guest and lights up another joint. The beer tastes as sour as the one in the car, but it's cold and feels good going down Sandy's throat, though the grass her hostess passes her makes it burn again like acid.

One of the dogs that had welcomed them home now invites himself to their party, nosing his way through the open door and immediately coming over to sniff Vicki's guest. Though intimidated by the huge hound, Sandy extends her hand and offers to "shake" with him, assuming that his owner has taught him that trick. But Duke is no gentleman, having learned a less formal greeting, and he passes up her hand to stick his nose under her dress, growing excited as if something tasty was hiding between her legs.

"He always does that," Vicki says, doing nothing to discourage the hound or protect her struggling guest. "My dad got him for my mom as a fucking wedding present, but she and Duke didn't hit it off, so he kicked her out but kept the fucking dog. And now Duke's picked up all of Dad's fucking habits. But then, men are all fucking dogs, you know."

Since the sofa has several broken springs, Sandy has literally sunk into the cushions, and with her knees now level with her shoulders, it's nearly impossible for her to sit up and apply any resistance. Duke seems to know this and takes full advantage of her predicament, working his muzzle up her legs and taking her dress with it until her pubes are exposed.

"I never wear fucking panties either," Vicki says, grinning at Sandy's red curls while taking a big swig of beer. Duke, thirsty himself, lashes at the salty pussy with his huge tongue, causing it's owner to flinch. 

"Let him have a fucking lick or two," Vicki says, "or he'll never leave you alone." Evidently speaking from experience, she acts as if nothing were wrong with the action. 

However, Sandy has no intention of surrendering to Duke's desires. But just as she is about to slap his muzzle, her inner voice intrudes.

"He's not hurting you, so why hurt him? And since Vicki sees nothing wrong with it, why should you? Do you think your morals are higher? She was nice enough to give you a lift and make you a guest in her home. Do you now wish to insult her by making a scene? Besides, we both know that Duke's attentions feel good, and don't deny it! Besides, you've fantasized about being licked in such a manner, and now's your chance to experience it. So rather than punish the dog, reward him and enjoy his hot kisses!"

The sudden intrusion of her conscience startles rather than soothes Sandy, and though she's not convinced by the arguments, she stops struggling and cradles the dog's head in her hands, giving Vicki the impression that she's guiding him to her pussy. But Sandy's eyes contradict her apparent eagerness, growing big like Duke's member as she watches him lick, and a prurient expression comes over her face when his fleas jump into her bush. 

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Vicki says, echoing Sandy's conscience and leaning in close to watch. "I let him get me off that way if I'm really fucking horny, but then he always wants me to do him in return. But he never does me like that! God, look at him go down on you! He clearly loves your fucking cunt, and it's pretty obvious that you adore him! I'm gonna have to get a fucking picture of this!"

Vicki jumps off the sofa to rummage through a mess in a corner until she finds her instamatic lying amid many boxes of film. Sandy wants to loudly protest against the outrageous idea, but her conscience is quick to silence her with a harsh reprimand and punishes her rebellion with a fierce headache. Forced to give in to lessen the pain, she submissively allows Vicki to pull her dress up around her waist but lacks the spirit to say, "Cheese!", and the photo that results shows an unsmiling redhead getting eaten by a grinning dog.

Pleased with the subject matter but unsatisfied with the execution, Vicki snaps off a few more shots, coaxing a sort of smile out of Sandy by pouring beer on her gash. This pleases Duke immensely, and he redoubles his efforts, causing the redhead to grimace, which at least puts a curl on her lips. Vicki is happier with the new photos but, knowing she can do better, she experiments by changing her angle and repositioning her model's legs, being careful not to cut off Sandy's face since identification made all such pictures more personal and really come to life.

While Duke keeps licking Sandy's pussy like an addict, Vicki rejoins her spellbound guest on the sofa to critique the photos with her. "These first ones are sort of weird because of that fucking look on your face," she begins. "But I really like this one where you can see his fucking tongue open you up wide. I should have spread your fucking legs apart for all of them, but then it's also nice to have variety. What do you think?" 

The thoughts going through Sandy's head are beyond the realm of language, though a series of high-pitched wails would come close to conveying them. But her inner voice prevents her from dashing out of the trailer and heading for a cliff, scolding her for her uppity manners and threatening to punish her with harsh cramps if she does anything to insult her kind hostess. So she moves not a muscle to interfere when Vicki, seeing that she's sweating, thoughtfully removes her dress. And she doesn't bat an eye when the girl, noticing that her bra is soaked, squeezes the bulging cups to wring them out. Wearing a non-committal expression like a strip poker veteran--except for wincing when Duke hits a sensitive spot--Sandy appears to be agreeable to her hostess' courtesy, especially when her nipples swell like ripe grapes. 

"Let's just take this fucking thing off," Vicki says, unclasping Sandy's bra to free the big breasts cruelly trapped inside. "Your fucking tits must be suffocating in there and--God! You're really fucking stacked, aren't you! And look at your fucking nipples! Mine aren't nearly as big, but I still think they're nice. What do you think?" 

Removing her T-shirt, Vicki strikes a teasing titty pose with her hands behind her head, but what stands out are the clumps of hair gracing her armpits. Up to now, she's made no real move on her guest as all her actions could be explained away. But though she's eager to sample the redhead like Duke, she delays her desires, taking Sandy's bra and dress outside to pin on the clothesline--making the trip topless.

Returning to her naked guest, Vicki figures it's now or never. She's confident that her advances won't be spurned, for Sandy has done nothing to repulse her so far and appears to be like-minded. Now strutting over to the sofa as if entering a gay bar, she pats Duke's head and asks him how's it's going. Then wearing the lusty grin of a lez on the make, she straddles Sandy's lap as if plopping down on the nearest barstool.

"Hey babe," she begins, running her fingers through Sandy's red tresses. "What do you say you and me get to know each other better?" 

The redhead already knows that the girl drives a bus and apparently grew up on a farm, for Vicki grasps her jugs like a milkmaid and manipulates the nipples. When Sandy replies with small moans--the only objections her conscience will allow--Vicki interprets them as pleasurable and continues her titty play, taking delight in stretching out her pink buds and watching them snap back. But though she sucks them till they grow as hard as walnuts, she receives nothing in return.




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 4



However, Vicki puts this down as simple shyness, figuring that her guest simply needs more foreplay, for she's heard from her friends at school and on the street that the older woman loves to put out--once she gets in the mood. So after moving off to one side, Vicki slides her hand down to Sandy's itching bush where it fights with Duke's tongue--and the fleas--for her cunt. The dog briefly surrenders his place at the bar to the invading fingers, but after they deeply probe the twitching hole and squeeze the fat lips dry, they settle onto the puffy clit, allowing Duke to return to his drinking.

Time has stood still for Sandy since the seduction began, for the beer and the grass have so warped her perspective that nothing seems real-- except the sensations shocking her body. Now she feels an obscure force pulling her down into a nightmarish pit where monsters prance in a circle around a tormented female, one who curses and screams amid scorching flames that shed no light. Appalled by the sight, she tries to run away, but invisible hands hold her back and drag her to the circle where she sees herself, naked and writhing, releasing agonized cries--of joy.

It's the darkest part of her psyche that she has long struggled to keep hidden, and when her drooling twin reaches out to embrace her and unite them forever, she tears herself free from the demented arms and flees in confusion, trembling while escaping the fiery pit as Vicki rubs her clit, and shuddering while clawing her way to the surface as Duke slurps on her labia. Returning to a safer time and place, she finds herself sweating on the bench back at campus, suffering like some desert slave cursed to sit in the sun and wait for her sadistic mistress.

But though her mind is muddled and miles away, her body has stayed in the real world, bearing the blows of relentless stimulation like a horny zombie. But just as it reaches the cusp of an orgasm, the sounds of a motorcycle are heard, and shortly after a tall, unshaven man enters the trailer. "Hi, Dad!" Vicki says with not one twinge of embarrassment, though for the time being she ceases her massage. "You're late, so what the fuck happened? Did you meet some sexy babe who simply had to get in your pants?" 

"Close to it," her dad nods, his eyes devouring her naked guest while his dog does it for real. "This fucking bitch runs a red light by the college and knocks me on my fucking ass, and I tell her I'm gonna sue her for a million fucking dollars. She starts bawling like her fucking baby and begs me not to report the accident since her fucking insurance is already so high, and she say's she'll do anything to keep the fucking lawyers out of it. Well, she's a pretty good-looking bitch, so we worked out a deal that wouldn't cost her a fucking cent--but she'll be nursing another baby real fucking soon!"

"We drove right fucking past you on our way here!" Vicki says, slapping herself as she did in the car. "If I had known it was you with that lady, I would have stopped and helped."

"I can imagine the kind of fucking help you'd have given her!" her dad says with the kind of sigh that comes with having a gay daughter. "And your friend looks like she'd have lent a fucking hand herself!"

He says this for obvious reasons because Sandy is scratching her mound, though her action is driven by the fleas and not her character. Vicki now introduces her to Ed, telling him that she brought the redhead home on a mission of mercy since she was hot and suffering. "And as you can see," the girl adds, "she still is! At the rate she and your fucking dog are going she'll probably wind up shacking up with him! What do you think?"

"Well," her dad replies, venting a laugh coarsened by a million cigarettes and as many beers, "from the way he's eating her, I'd say she must have stuffed her cunt with Alpo!" While watching Duke feed on the reddish bulge, Ed brazenly scratches the one in his pants. But as head of the household, it's his duty to protect his daughter by asking about her friends. 

"So where'd you find this fucking slut?" he asks. "Sucking pussy on her knees in the bathroom of some lesbo bar?"

"No, but that's where I'll look for her next time!" Vicki replies, thinking the location and activity quite probable. "But besides being a fucking whore like me, she's a student who likes to unwind in nasty ways. And though she seems kind of shy, I've heard that she likes fucking street people behind the wall at the bus stop! And I know that she likes going to fucking porn stores cuz I once drove her to one myself!" Turning to Sandy she asks, "You don't mind me telling him that, right? I mean, it's hardly a fucking secret how you older college bitches love to put out." 

"Well, if you ask me," Ed says, pausing to cough and spit a glob of phlegm on the floor, "she can't be too fucking smart if she lets a dog go down on her! But redheads always give me a hard-on, and I seem to recall marrying one. What was the name of that fucking bitch, anyway?"

"He's talking about my fucking Mom," Vicki says to Sandy. "Her name is Carol, and she's really a blonde, but she had her hair dyed this fucking red color when they got married. Dad kicked her out cuz she wouldn't fuck his dogs on film, but then she was always kind of shy like you--except around other women! Now don't get me wrong. She'll take cock up the ass like a fucking pro from most any guy, but at heart she's really a cunt-sucking lez like me. You'll probably get to meet her since she lives next door with her fucking sister, Linda."

"And do you take cock up the ass from guys?" Ed asks Sandy. "Or do you only spread for doggies cuz they can come in your pussy so many times?"

The rumble of the motorcycle and the appearance of the man have lifted Sandy off the bench and put her mentally back into the game. But the little of herself that she still controls can't believe what's going on--that she's sitting naked in a filthy trailer with a huge dog licking her pussy in front of two, foul-mouthed perverts! But the flickering flame of her "good girl" half is quickly doused by her inner voice in order to make room for the full emergence of her blazing dark side. Till now, she's been passive, protesting nothing but hardly volunteering, but now her conscience angrily goads her to get more actively involved.

"Stop playing the vestal virgin!" it demands. "And quit insulting your hosts! They're very special people who can help you shed your foolish inhibitions, and you'll never be truly happy until they're gone!"

Sandy's last shred of virtue tries to drive the voice from her head, but it's like pitting a lone nun against an army of lechers. Moreover, she's punished for her defiance with a pain that tears her gut, ironically contorting her face as if she were experiencing great pleasure. The strand of drool that swings from her mouth only supports this false conclusion. 

"And don't you dare look down your nose at Ed and Vicki!" the stern voice continues, crushing the mote of pride that remains and leaving only a slavish resolve. "If anything, they should look down on you! You're over the hill and are hardly attractive, getting by solely on your tits! Your face is plain, your ass and belly sag, and your legs are unlikely to grace a runway! You should feel flattered and grateful that your hosts seem to like a dog like you! So accept the fact that you're a dumb, ugly, worthless piece of shit! Embrace it! Rejoice in it! And instead of suffering constant and needless pain, you'll revel in pleasure and bliss! For the lower a woman like you goes, the higher is her reward! So show your kind hosts how willing you are to serve them, and use your brain and body for the only thing they're good for! Understand?"

Nodding her head, Sandy gives Ed the impression that she's replying positively to his question. But there's no confusion in the words that follow, for the harsh reprimand has made her a new creature, one whose body and soul are fully united. "I like sucking cunt as much as your ex," she openly confesses, her mind now crystal clear but governed by an impulse too deep to grasp. "But I also like dick of all kinds, and I love having big dogs come in me. But what makes my body feel extra good is having a hung stud like you fuck my mouth, pussy, and asshole--especially when I get a big load of sperm after a long, juicy ride."

"Now you can see why I brought this fucking bitch home!" Vicki says to her dad, and having just been given the green light, she floors her lust and crashes into the redhead. They share their first kiss--long, wet, and passionate--and their tongues begin a game of tug o' war, one that unites the extremes of society when cultured hands pull down white trash tights, and an educated mouth assails a high school drop-out pussy. Wonderfully aroused by Vicki's luxurious undergrowth, Sandy kneels on the sofa to gobble up the hairy girl, and Duke, seeing a chance to further his relationship with the redhead, jumps up to join the women and mounts Sandy from behind. His long, quivering dick keeps jabbing blindly at her pussy, and she reaches back to end his suffering, expertly guiding him in.

"That feels so fucking good!" she moans, more for her own benefit than the dog's, and she buries her face in Vicki's muff though not because of shame. In response, the girl rolls her hips around like a mixing bowl, timing her movements to Duke's rapid thrusts and turning Sandy into a human blender. Though not much of a cook, Ed is a fair photographer, and knowing a Kodak moment when he sees one, he grabs the instamatic and starts snapping away. Eager to oblige like an auditioning actress who desperately needs a job, Sandy lifts one leg and turns her face to the camera to afford him the clearest shots. Nearly coming in his pants, Ed takes close-ups of her tongue diving into his daughter's cunt while the dog has his way with her pussy. 

As if competing to see who can orgasm first, Duke and Vicki feed their lust till they both explode, stuffing the redhead with their first fruits which she accepts with unfeigned relish. Now rolling onto her back to clean her canine lover, Sandy milks the last drops from the penis onto her wagging tongue, then scrubs the long shaft on her pursed lips and swallows the spume as if it were white mustard smeared over a German sausage.

"Do his balls too!" Vicki urges. "Show him how much you love his fucking sperm!" 

As the redhead performs the scandalous action, her hostess takes over the camera chores, giving her dad a chance to pose for a French postcard and keep the menage a trois going. After slapping his dick against Sandy's clit as if ringing her sexual doorbell, all ten inches of him are welcomed inside and met with a fervent hug.

Flattering him with a deep groan, Sandy swears he feels bigger than the dog, and she bucks her hips to meet his thrusts while mouthing Duke's balls. As if hurt by the slight, the hound pays her back by erasing her face with more cum, but she simply smears it around like cold cream and beats off his dick to get more. To teach her a lesson, Duke deep-throats the bitch to make her gag, and she does--but with joy. And though gulping gallantly, she loses sperm to her chin, but Vicki reclaims it with her camera, storing it for all time.

A bit of a cur himself, Ed wants to fuck Sandy like his dog, and she gets on all fours and raises her tail in true bitchy fashion. Duke now feels sorry for his beastly behavior and lies down in front of her to apologize, affectionately licking her accommodating face and proving himself a sensitive lover. Touched by his romantic nature, she boldly Frenches him as if he were a sexy movie star, groaning like a starlet herself when Ed passes up her pussy to visit her anus instead.

"Oh, yeah!" his daughter encourages him. "Bust your nuts in her fucking ass like you used to with Mom! Make her take all your meat like she's the dirtiest whore in town!"

Ed hardly needs his daughter's prompting since he knows the routine backwards and forwards, and he reams out Sandy so fiercely that she buckles and falls to the floor. But she keeps her butt held flagpole high like a regular sugar shack pro, tightening her sphincter to increase his pleasure and rolling her hips to extend hers. As if exploding from a cannon, his sperm spews deep into her rectum, making her cry out with indecent delight. Then while milking the dick with deep anal contractions, she purrs like a cat as the cum fills her crevices. 

Since her guest obviously loves getting it up the butt, Vicki keeps her on her knees, and Duke mounts her again like a hungry trucker, letting the girl steer his big rig into Sandy's open diner, a greasy-spoon where everything is always on the house. Now with Duke's needs filled, Vicki concerns herself with her dad, urging him to clean his messy tool in the redhead's special sink. Like the dog before him, Ed receives a good oral cleansing while his daughter hovers nearby, taking close-ups at each end.

"You could give lessons to the whores in hell!" Ed praises Sandy as she washes and rinses his dick in her mouth, then dries it by rubbing it over her face.

"It comes easy when fucking a stud like you!" she replies, looking up at him with anxious eyes to see if he appreciates her corrupted wit. His coarse laughter signals that he's obviously pleased, though it comes with a glob of mucus that he coughs onto her head. But instead of cringing, she eagerly finger-combs it into her hair as if it were expensive mousse found only in the best salons. And to further expose her high regard for him by way of her own degradation, she swears she could fuck him--and his daughter and his dog--day and night for a year and never get enough, and the fond eyes she turns up to him show that she means every word.

"In that case, the fucking bitch should move in with us!" Vicki says to her dad "She'd get plenty of action around here--and not just from the fucking dogs!"

"The neighbors would get off their asses with her around," he has to agree, speaking about Sandy in the third person like Vicki though she was as close to him as his scrotum. "And if she's got any fucking eggs left, they'd get fertilized in a hurry! But how would we know who the daddy was once the fucking bitch got knocked up?"

"We'd just check the markings!" his daughter replies. "Cuz she'd probably give birth to a whole fucking litter!" 

"I want you to knock me up!" Sandy pleadingly begs Ed. "I want your fucking babies kicking inside my fucking belly so I can always feel your sweet fucking presence!"

"You're such a depraved whore," he accuses, "that you'd probably fuck your own kids!"

"I would if it pleased you!" she readily confesses, driven by her soul to arouse him every way, including pushing the perverted envelope when authoring images. "I'd suck off all the boys and eat all the girls like a good mommy " she promises. "Then I'd let them watch me pleasure your dogs two at a time. After all, we'd want our kids to learn about good, clean sex at home and not have them pick up bad habits in the street!"

Her speech is as obscene as it gets, designed to send him soaring on the wings of arousal. But as king of his castle, Ed feels he must put his foot down--though it's not exactly his foot that silences the foul commoner. Sandy masters the gag reflex, however, and the highborn censure shoots straight into her peasant's belly. And now the royal hound rebukes her likewise, firing his reproach from the other end. But though intended as discipline, the redhead delights in such creamy condemnation, and Ed throws up his hands, not knowing what else to do. 

Fortunately, he has the right kind of neighbors to help him out, and the leading members of the community now enter the trailer to enforce the park's strict ethical standards. Like modern-day Puritans, but with a trashy twist, they quickly make their presence felt, the half dozen deacons openly palming their dicks, but the saintly women accompanying them exhibiting more shyness, rubbing their bulges through their skin-tight leggings while watching the redhead put out for Duke in a manner that shames them all. And not to be overlooked are the sporting dogs in the area who, smelling something fishy, arrive toting their poles.

Like a producer at a film festival, Vicki invites the crowd of critics to sample her newest discovery, and most of the males surround the redhead to review her holes and offer their critiques, the rest pairing up with anyone but their wives. The women, however, take a more personal approach, sitting on Sandy's face till their trailer park pussies are pleasured and sanitized. But a coarse blonde boasting big, drooping tits-- and the ass and abdomen to match--wants something special. And since a razor has never been under her arms or trimmed her lush, golden bush, it's easy to see why Vicki calls her "Mom." 

"So this is the fucking bitch you replaced me with, huh?" Carol says to Ed, sneering down at the redhead digging cum from her butt and licking her fingers clean. "So where'd you find her? Rolling in the gutter near some brewery and sucking on used condoms?"

"Nope," Ed replies. "But that's where I'll look for her next time."

"Well," Carol says, "I've got a billion sperm raising hell in my ass like a busload of frat boys, and one bitch here seems the perfect house mother to tongue them out!"

There's hardly a mad rush to follow Carol to the sofa upon which she kneels to expose her oozing crack. But Sandy is drawn to the vulgar sight like a sexual magnet, and she lays a wreath of oral caresses all over Carol's cheeks, bypassing the scary anus but only to tease it. Each kiss she bestows is genuine and loving, because her mind sees the unsavory ass as delectable and mouth-watering. Now working her lips toward the alluring center, she pleases herself--and everyone watching--by sucking on the spermy rim as if it were dripping honey. 

"That feels real nice, bitch," the blonde says, undulating her ass to increase the outward flow. "But if you don't quit stalling and start tonguing, I'm gonna rip off your fucking nipples and feed them to the dogs!"

Like hand-written words in a Valentine, the threat earns Sandy's immediate love, and as Ed had become a king to her, his ex becomes a queen. So her servile tongue worms into the honey pot as far as possible, though to humble the whore, the blonde cruelly orders her to go deeper, squeezing her sphincter like a vise-clamp as if trying to yank her tongue out by its roots.

"Now ream it!" comes the queenly command, and this one is do-able, for Sandy is a natural ass-kisser. Like a good toilet maid, she scrapes the jam off the walls with her toilet brush tongue and flushes the yummy gunk down her throat.

Flash bulbs pop everywhere, and a video-cam hums as Duke mounts the leading lady to play the ham. After he comes with an emotional bark as if vying for an Oscar, Carols' sister plays a supporting role in the adult drama, evenly distributing his sperm in the freshly fucked pussy. Tall, lean, and sweetly mean, Linda is the only person there with a two jobs, teaching chemistry in a Catholic school for wayward girls and running her own meth-lab. And though she fists Sandy casually as if looking for her car keys, the sensations she produces make the redhead go over the top.

Now showing why she's the star, Sandy turns her front to the cameras to better expose her breasts--and Linda's wrist--then gets under her queen like a mechanic to give her an oil change and a lube job, using the tools that nature gave her to drain her fluids and grease her holes. Screaming about the service gets Vicki's mom a free vacuuming, and she bursts into orgasm as her clit is noisily sucked.

Though blondes have more fun, they're also more generous, and Queen Carol orders her slut-maid to kneel on the floor. Thinking she's about to be rewarded for her good work, Sandy eagerly complies, humbly bending forward as she's seen it done on TV. But the blonde makes her tilt her head back and open her mouth instead, and a golden stream of royal brew splashes onto her tongue. Receiving more than she had hoped for, tears well in the redhead's eyes as she gargles her prize like Listerine and gulps it down like wine. 




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 4



"You ass-licking, piss-drinking tramp!" Carol says in disgust, dragging Sandy outside by her hair and inviting all to join them. The trailer park now seems like a nudist camp as all the tenants are seen walking around naked in broad daylight, but it becomes more than that when they surround a redhead lying in the dirt and begin pissing on her.

The sight of all the spewing cocks and pussies looming over her so excites Sandy that she begins frantically rubbing her clit, spewing out her own stream of vulgarity to heighten her arousal, and her back-to-nature masturbation pays off handsomely with a gut-wrenching orgasm that makes her writhe like a severed worm--and yet she begs for more. Since everyone is now tapped, Carol grabs a dog who has followed them and positions him so Sandy can drink straight from his spigot, and when her mouth swims with rich, canine ale, she erupts like Vesuvius a second time.

Everyone needs a break, but not as much as the redhead does a bath, so Carol makes her run through the bushes and then lie down in the road. Though the dust she rolls in like a giddy dog removes much of the piss and cum, it leaves her looking like some jungle bitch rejected by her tribe. A good old boy washing his truck nearby offers his soap pail and hose, but Carol only accepts the bucket, dumping the dirty water over Sandy's head. Now having been washed and rinsed, only buffing remains, and the blonde does a nice job on Sandy's hood ornaments, making her D-cups tingle and glow and earning her eternal gratitude. The old man, suffering with a boner, is thankful as well after the redhead orally reduces the swelling. Then Carol rides Sandy like a pony back to the trailer, whacking her ass with a stick to hurry her along.

The crowd inside is passing around beer, joints, and the dirty pictures when the pair return, and all are straining their brains for the first time in their lives to come up with new tricks for the college whore to perform. Though the trailer stinks like a dump but is more messy, Carol begs her ex to let her move back home, willing to be disgusted on a full-time basis as long as Sandy is thrown into the bargain. The redhead also pleads Carol's case, looking up at her master as if she were man's best friend-- and woman's too--while deeply inhaling the acrid, smoke-filled air and letting Linda pour a beer down her throat.

Ed says he'll consider it, and since he thinks with his dick, Sandy gives him big ideas and something to chew on. But after he comes in her pumping pussy while sucking on her tits, he tells her to leave him alone until feeling returns to his cock. Now free to serve her mistress, Sandy kneels beside Carol like a faithful dog, praising her legs for their great beauty and degrading her own. In her day, the blonde drew a whistle or two when wearing a mini-skirt, and though her ankles are thinner than Sandy's and her calves are better curved, the varicose veins and cellulite on her thighs say she'll never star in a pantyhose commercial. Moreover, like her daughter, she hates to shave. But Sandy sees her as an angel, kissing her hairy legs as if sampling a little bit of heaven. 

The blonde enjoys being fawned over, for unlike the rest of her, her ego is as firm as ever. But so is her determination to break the bitch and glut her insatiable craving. So she lies down next to the redhead in the middle of the floor and, one by one, starts jacking off the dogs into her mouth. Remarkably, both women are able to keep up with the pack, Sandy downing every drop, and Carol repeatedly coming on her face, this wicked rotation going on for nearly two hours. And since the blonde's juices rival Niagara Falls, and the dogs are milked a second and third time, Sandy's belly soon bulges as if she were pregnant. But she's still going strong.

Touched by the redhead's stamina and devotion, Carol experiences a wave of affection wash over her nasty heart. Unable to hold back her feelings, she gathers Sandy into her arms and kisses her passionately as if about to propose. "God! How I love you, you sweet, fucking whore-bitch!" she gushes. "Your mouth was made for my pussy and asshole, and you make me hotter than a Paris rat!" Her loving words are followed by more drooling kisses, and staring deeply into the redhead's eyes, Carol searches for the words that will dispel any doubts.

"I really do love you, you filthy, dog-sucking bitch!" she swears, reaching the height of romantic prose. "You're the cheapest slut that I've ever met, and of all the sleazy whores in this fucking world, none are lower than you! Please tell me, my darling ass-suck, my sweet fuck-face, that you love me more than life, that you crave my piss and cum, and that there's nothing you wouldn't do for me!" 

In answer to this most welcome outpouring of love, Sandy slides down Carol's body to kiss and suck her feet, moving up to her hairy calves, then on to her meaty hips and thighs. The stretch marks on her abdomen garner several special sucks, and her buttery tits are piously mouthed as if they hung above an altar. Sandy's worship culminates with a visit to the twin temples of her blonde goddess, and on her belly, like a worm, she takes communion, devouring the sexual body and blood of the divine woman. 

Her true self having fully emerged as her conscience had promised, she humbly turns her slick face up to her beaming mistress, knowing that mere words can't express her unspeakable joy but driven by her soul to pay verbal homage. "Yes, sweetest darling!" she begins. "I love you so very fucking much! For the first time in my fucking life I know what love truly is, for thanks to you, I know who I truly fucking am! And yes, my sweet, I truly crave your fucking piss and cum! In fact, I'd kill for your fucking juices cuz I love them more than life itself! I only hope and pray that, one day, you'll learn to love me enough to let me eat your fucking shit, because everything that comes out of you is so motherfucking sweet!" 

Ready to trade vows with her on the spot, Carol removes the ring from Wallmart that Ed gave her and places it on the third finger of Sandy's left hand. Bursting with tears, the redhead nearly orgasms, and the blonde herself grows dizzy trying to remember if this is the ninth or tenth time that she's got hitched. But since she takes marriage seriously, she's forced to test her lover's commitment, slapping Sandy's face several times and yanking out a tuft of her pussy hair. Responding as Carol had hoped, her new bride only returns a doting smile, cupping her titties in her hands for them to be disciplined too. 

Seeing that it turns her on, Carol gives her a good ass-kicking, whacking her around like a sadistic guard in a women's prison. Rough play is something that she and her sister have long enjoyed, and the blonde is elated to discover that Sandy also enjoys it, absorbing the blows like a masochist and growing wet at the sight of her love bruises. Vicki is now sent outside to bring in the clothesline, and when she returns, Carol knots one end of the rope around Sandy's neck as if to hang her. Her slave-bride is willing to die for her, but that's not what the blonde has in mind. 

Corralling two new dogs--both bigger than Duke and just arrived-- Carol positions them over Sandy so she can suck one of their grotesque cocks while fucking the other. Then running the long rope several times around the beasts, she tightly secures their dicks in her holes. The fresh dogs promise to provide the bitch with numerous loads of sperm, and with the cameras clicking like a Geiger counter and a camcorder burning up tape, the strange honeymoon begins. 

The sounds of bestial sex are thrilling in themselves, but the sight of the woman lashed to her four-legged lovers is incredibly stirring, especially since she considers it to be great sex and one of her wedding presents. And after Carol's stand-in sperm donors are exhausted and drained, Linda gives Sandy--and the film makers--another nice present when she slides Ed's old softball bat into her slushy pussy. Now sitting on the sofa's edge, the redhead goes into reverse labor, leaning back and arching her cunt to help the big boy in. It's her greatest challenge by far, and her gasping moans are given additional force by the many clothespins adorning her belly and thighs and the jumper cables affixed to her nipples. But Carol is close by her side, pissing on her tits to ensure a good battery connection and offering jolting words of encouragement. With her help, Sandy takes in the bat to the trademark, grinding her hips as if giving a lap-dance to herself. 

The wedding celebration goes on all night as Sandy opens her "presents" and tries them out, one woman giving her a live eel to be used as a douche aid, and another, a large snake useful in many ways. The men are more into insects, including huge cockroaches and spiders, and the redhead acquires a regular menagerie of intimate pets. But there are fun gifts also, like condoms bulging with body fluids, and games are played involving hot wax and triple penetrations.

Now a peeping-Tom might think Sandy was being cruelly exploited and forced to run the entire gamut of S&M and B&D. But to those in the know, it's the other way around, for she's using the others to sink herself into the lowest depths in order to reach the highest peaks of depraved bliss. That's why she engages in perversions too filthy to imagine, holding back nothing and taking herself and everyone else to the limit--and beyond.

And it matters not that hundreds of pictures are taken, or that two dozen specialty movies are made--all to be sold on the porn market, keeping the trailer park gang rolling in grass and beer for months to come--for those are crass business details lying outside the realm of personal discovery.

When Sandy wakes up the next day, her head is buzzing, and she feels the sun blistering her legs. But all she sees is darkness, for Carol has stuffed her face first into the garbage can. A horde of flies are using her inverted pussy as an incubator for their eggs, and an army of ants marches over the terrain of her scummy, naked body, setting up camp in the forest of her matted pubic hair and using her gaping, cum-filled anus as a mess hall. Itching something terribly but Unable to scratch herself, she struggles to get free by waving her legs in a scissors motion, but the pathetic action only angers the insects and incites them to bite. 

Wearing only a yawn, Carol now comes out of the trailer to take a piss since Ed's toilet is broken. Walking over to the can as if she did so every morning, she sighs and begins draining her bladder onto the redhead's ass, producing a seemingly endless stream that threatens to drown the upside- down woman but which also drives off the bugs in the process. Now playing an adult version of "kick the can," she bangs her foot on the metal sides as if to awaken the human garbage within, finally knocking the aluminum barrel over and dragging Sandy out by her ankles. 

As if simultaneously serving her slave breakfast and giving her a bath, Carol hoists the canister in her big arms and pours the collected piss over the redhead's wretched body, saving the choice dregs for her parched lips. Then joining her slut-slave on the ground, she gives her a long, good-morning kiss, grinding her bush into Sandy's to animate both. Soon aroused and ready for love, Carol spins around to sixty-nine with her, and after a few lusty minutes spent roiling the dust, both release coarse orgasmic moans. Tiredly hauling themselves to their feet, they share a long, lazy kiss in the sun, Carol slow-milking Sandy's breasts with the redhead stroking her ass. 

"After a few weeks with me," Carol says, "your fucking tits will sag as much as mine!"

"I hope so," Sandy replies, "for I want to be exactly like you! I'm even going to dye my fucking hair blonde!" 

Carol locks lips with her again but breaks the kiss to cough up some morning crud. Before she can expel the phlegm, however, Sandy pulls her face back, encouraging her to finish the embrace and release the gunk into her mouth. Carol does so and rewards her lover's act by fingering the redhead's pussy until she shudders. Sandy clings to the big blonde to keep from falling while coming, then drops to her knees to eagerly return the sweet service. Grabbing two fistfuls of red hair, Carol closes her eyes and slowly grinds her pubes into Sandy's face, then turns around to do the same with her butt. The sweet sounds made by the women suggest that doing oral-anal in the blistering Texas sun is sheer heaven.

But the good life can't go on forever. One of them has a class to attend, and the other has pictures and movies to sell, and after a final breast-squashing hug and kiss, they reluctantly part--the saddest going hunting for her dress and bra.

By the time Sandy crawls into the old Plymouth, it's hotter than a furnace. Ed and Duke wave good-bye with their dicks from the porch, the latter reminding Vicki to drive safely. As they head for town, the redhead sits close to the hairy driver, licking her salty armpit to conserve fluids while rubbing the wetspot on her white leggings. Vicki tugs them down in order to get some moving head, and the old Plymouth hits a hundred as the lesbian orgasms with stiff legs. 

Sandy's better half now struggles to assert itself, but her inner voice is intent on keeping her supremely sluttish. By the time they reach the university, a war has broken out in Sandy's brain, and her head throbs with pain and confusion. As if allied with her conscience, Vicki parks on the main drag and prolongs the struggle by pulling up Sandy's dress to finger her off and purposely make her late for class.

The intense heat has driven most of the pedestrians off the burning sidewalk, but a shaggy street person notices the hot action in the Plymouth and stumbles up to the curb to watch. His eyes bulge with desire--as does his pants--as he watches the young girl play with the older woman's pussy, and he pulls out his excited dick and begins masturbating. Vicki pushes Sandy near the passenger's window so the vagrant can rub his cock over her face, adding to the show by pulling the redhead's big titties out of her dress and milking the nipples roughly. 

Sandy's trailer park persona temporarily gains the upper hand, and she throws her feet up on the dash and spreads her thighs wide, pumping her aroused snatch up and down like a hungry whore and turning her face to the window so the bum can reach her mouth. Her tongue washes over the leaking head of his dick, then her lips pull in all eight greasy inches and massage the swollen shaft with deep sucks.

Her groans match his, and like coordinated lovers, they come at the same time. His runny cum bubbles from her lips and forms white icicles on her chin before frosting the surface of her flushed tits. Sandy's own juice spits from her spasming pussy and splatters Vicki's hand. The cock stays in her mouth and the fingers in her pussy until both lovers are limp and sighing, then the bum staggers off, and Vicki pushes Sandy out of the car. 

Slumping onto a nearby bench, the redhead sees the familiar toothy grin in the rearview mirror as the girl rumbles off. Now alone and with her evil conscience finally under wraps, Sandy finds herself sweating in the sun and waiting for the bus...

Carmen cursed herself for not having sat on a towel, for her chair was soaked, and a large puddle had formed on the floor. But this one had been the best of all, and while blotting up the mess with facial tissue, she dreamed of the day when she and her favorite student would come together in the flesh and not only in fantasy.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 5



Carmen stared at the pile of papers on her desk and grimaced as if experiencing a sour organism. She was looking at three grueling hours, maybe four, and chucking pain for pleasure, she fled her confining office. On her way home, she thought about stopping at the adult video store and checking out the new releases. But her highly critical nature told her that nothing on the shelves would come up to her standards. Before two minutes of footage would pass, she'd be skewering the director about his choice of angles and flogging the writer for lacking a frontal lobe. The pathetic actresses, all too young, would be spared her whip, for they were merely cloned Barbie dolls--plastic on the outside, hollow within.

But Carmen's mood quickly brightened when she spotted a flesh and blood woman trudging down the sun-baked sidewalk. The red hair riding the shoulders was an early clue to her identity, as were the full hips that so went against the current trend. But it was the woman's large ankles and calves that were instant markers, and Carmen's belly stiffened like an aroused clit. It was like running into a movie star, for she had employed the redhead in so many fantasies that, like an addict, she was now addicted to "Sandy stories" and couldn't get off without them. 

Carmen braked to allow a longer glimpse of the redhead from behind, whose thin summer dress barely concealed her black panties. Each tired step rolled her butt cheeks from side to side, and Carmen imagined the thin, sweat-soaked crotch panel riding up and chafing the hairy pubes, forcing Sandy to tug down on her torturous underwear in public.

Slowly passing her student, Carmen wrestled with the notion of pulling over. There was nothing illegal about offering a student a ride, but it was the type of ride that threw up a red flag. For the naughty professor was spinning another fantasy, weaving it into her discontent with the adult film industry.

How would they handle this subject? They'd have her stop, and in less than two minutes she'd be in bed with the woman, never bothering to strip the masks off the characters and expose their dark motivations, never bothering to build conflict and use it to drive the action, never bothering to show the psychic forces that generate lust; in short, never bothering to include reality in the script but settling for quick, phony emotion and mind-sapping music.

Of course, Hollywood would employ a pair of young babes in both roles, each staggering under forty pounds of make-up and silicon and trading juvenile dialogue that even fifth graders would scorn. It would be just another fuck film, filled with boring, repetitious shots that had been seen a trillion times and would last ten minutes on the shelf until another loser took its place. And if this turkey appeared on the Playboy channel, even the sophomoric sex would be censored and shown at "safe" angles. What a world! And how ironic considering all the cinematic freedom now allowed! Stewing with artistic rage, Carmen suddenly realized that she had stopped and that someone was staring at her.

"Are you okay?" Sandy asked, screwing up her face from both the heat and worry. The redhead was bending over the door of the convertible, and Carmen tried not to ogle her ripe cleavage.

"Hi," the professor said with a toothy smile. "I saw you dragging your...self down the sidewalk and thought you'd like a lift. It's so bitching hot--sorry for my French--and you looked ready to collapse."

"I am dog-tired," Sandy admitted, wiping the perspiration off her forehead and drying her hand on her hip--the only dry place left on her dress--for the sweat from her belly and breasts had already soaked through the front. "But I don't want to be a bother."

"Get in," Carmen said as if issuing an order. She didn't mean to sound so authoritative, but it was her natural way of speaking due to years of dealing with lazy students and lame alibies. So to erase any misconception and establish a mood of informality, she began by saying how pleased she was with Sandy's last paper, praising her for her study habits.

Sandy brightened at the compliment, but her smile was also due to the cool air that blew into the open auto now that they were moving. Carmen didn't ask where the redhead was going--a deliberate omission--for she wished to delay all thoughts of ending the trip before she had milked it like a swollen tit. That meant continuing her fantasy, of course, and as Sandy seemed content to simply enjoy the ride, Carmen pressed the pedal to the metal in her sensual mind.

The fantasy begins with a pick-up, naturally. But instead of a teacher offering Sandy a lift, it's one of her classmates in a battered Ford Mustang. The girl, named Michelle, is a twenty-year-old blonde with a shapely figure, though some baby fat stubbornly clings to her belly and thighs. Her complexion also bears the marks of a rough adolescence, having weathered a storm of acne that was foolishly treated by making the pimples pop. But her breasts are solid C-cups with pointed tips, and her calves and ankles look mean and lean, the latter sporting colorful tattoos. Her clothes, however, match her old car, for she's wearing a torn T-shirt, ragged jeans, and a pair of scuffed heels that stride the line between casual and slutty. And without asking where Sandy is headed, the young blonde plunges into traffic and a steady dialogue.

Thoroughly dominating the conversation , Michelle complains about their last test, thanking Sandy for her notes which allowed her to escape a failing grade. But the topic doesn't remain academic for long, for her comments about the girls seen on the sidewalk are sandwiched into duets with the blaring radio. In less than five minutes, Sandy learns that Michelle loves this girl's hair and hates that one's shoes, that she'd love to kick the shit out of that bitch standing by the corner, and that she'd kill to go down on the babe coming out of the pizza joint. 

Her comments come quickly and are so evenly stressed that Sandy barely notices the shift in topics, merely nodding her head as if in agreement which encourages her classmate to go on. Michelle turns totally carnal now, giving everyone she sees a sexual rating and musing on them as a bed partner. Some of her subjects are tall and tanned, young and lovely. But some, like Sandy, are older and have never been to Impanema.

Apparently, Michelle has a fixation on the female gender, for not once during her running commentary does she express interest in a male. But when she casually admits to being very bi and asks Sandy what she is, there's a long pause where nothing is said but much is thought.

On the surface Sandy is totally embarrassed, and her face flushes hotly. But inside other thoughts are stirring like scary noises in the basement. She's also suffering a headache brought on by her classmate's unceasing palaver, making her agitated and befuddled. As a result, she stammers out a hesitant reply consisting of little but awkward gibberish. But Michelle grasps the situation at once, for her thoughts have been sharply different, and she interprets Sandy's blushing and wavering as a shy confession.

"I knew you were bi!" the blonde says triumphantly, as if her judgment on such matters was never wrong. "Most everyone I know is," she went on, "and any woman who isn't is really stupid. I mean, why let some jerk pound your pussy when another woman can do it just as well? You've got a big rubber cock, of course, so you know what I mean. And though they don't spurt, they last forever and--Look at that babe in the short skirt! Wow! Wouldn't you love to do her?--and they never beat you up or make you get them a beer. I've got a seventeen-incher that's pink and makes me groan like a fucking pig, and when my ass is being sucked at the same time, I practically explode and--Ugh! What a dog! I wouldn't eat her if she had cherry pie stuffed up her muff--and my mom's always borrowing it and leaving her cum on it, and I tell her that I don't mind her using it, but-- Mmmm! I wouldn't throw that bitch out of bed!--but the least she could do is wipe it off on her big tits and butt. But I don't really care that much, because I love my mom a lot, and we're real close and share the same bed, and it is a turn-on knowing we share the same dick and--God! Did you see the tits on that babe? I bet she slams her head into the sink every time she brushes her teeth!--and besides, her cum is real sweet, and if you ever sampled it, you'd say it was the best you ever had and--"

And on and on. Sandy's headache is getting worse, and she's tempted to tell the prattling bitch to shut the fuck up. But since she's always careful with her language, she remains mute and bravely endures the verbal assault, nodding and smiling to be polite which only misinforms and incites the young blonde.

"And you really should get a tattoo on your boobs. I mean, everyone has one, and your skin is so white that it would really stand out. You could get a rose or something, though that's pretty common, but what you should get is--Look at the sneer on that bitch! I bet she greets her lovers with a whip--is a snake coiled around your big tits. That would look so cool, especially if it was crawling down to your belly as if about to invade your pussy! It would be a little painful and would take several sessions, but I know this babe who'd give you a good deal and--Shit! Look at the ass on that bitch!--and she's really good at it and won't hit on you unless you want her to and--"

Unable to sit still any longer, Sandy digs in her purse for some gum hoping that gnawing on something will help silence her brain. But even this innocent action is misread by Michelle who plays the psychic again.

"Looking for your vibrator, huh? Seeing all those sexy bitches has made you hot, right? I'm horny, too! All I have to do is think about sex and my pussy wants to spurt, so in class I have to be careful not to touch myself, especially when Lori is sitting in front of me. Don't you just love the way her ass looks in jeans? If I had her yummy body, I'd move to California and become a porn star. Listen, do you want me to pull over? Or are you gonna do yourself while we're moving? God, that would be cool! But I'll probably get in a crash by not watching the road! I bet you're real hairy, right? I keep my bush partially shaved because it looks sexier that way, but older women like you and my mom usually just let it sprout. Hey, why don't we go to my place since it's close, and then neither of us has to wind up in jail or in a hospital. We're only a couple blocks away, and my mom should be home from work. I know you two will really hit it off, because you're about the same age, and you both have voluptuous figures. I'll probably wind up looking that way myself, but for now I'd like to stay a little thin. Forty will come soon enough, you know. Now our place is a little messy, so I hope it won't turn you off. But since you're not coming for Sunday dinner, you probably won't notice. Then again, knowing how 'hungry' you are, you'll probably wind up eating something!"

A minute later, Michelle pulls into the driveway behind a rusting Cadillac and kills the engine. But she doesn't kill her mouth, for she keeps babbling all the way to the messy kitchen where she introduces Sandy to a dark-haired woman slurping gin in her underwear. Jill is forty-four, and the same number applies to her bust and hips which spill out of a black bra and matching panties. Her stained and wrinkled waitress' uniform is lying in a heap on the floor, and seeing that her daughter has brought home a guest, she bends over to straighten the seams on her stockings before pouring a second drink.

"You don't get one," Jill says to Michelle, "because you drink too much as it is."

"Then I'll just sip Sandy's," the sassy blonde replies, "because she'll be too busy to drink! She got really horny in the car and was going to get off while we were moving, but I said we should come here instead. Sandy's in one of my classes, by the way, and is really smart and bi like us, and without her help I'd probably fail my ass off, so you have to be real sweet to her, okay?"

"I'm sweet to everyone," Jill says, handing Sandy a drink while examining her through eyes laden with mascara. "But you can't be too bright if you get off in public and run around with Michelle. All her girlfriends are perverts, you know, and the last one she brought home liked to get it on with dogs. And I don't mean the two-legged kind!"

"She exaggerates everything!" her daughter protests. "Mom's only saying that because my friend, Kim, made a specialty movie for some rich European guys that will never be seen in this country. And she got a lot of cash and gifts for doing it, too!"

Jill arches her penciled eyebrows in undisguised skepticism. "I bet they flipped her a quarter and tossed her a bone."

"You're just jealous," Michelle says, "because when you made one, you didn't get paid a fucking dime, and the flick wound up playing in the local porn theaters!" 

"I was young and stupid back then," Jill alibies. "And I was in love with the director."

"Bullshit!" Michelle says. "You fucked that dog on film last month! And if you loved Sarah so much, why did you go down on her sister?"

"Because she was cheating on me!" Jill defends. "And you're being a bad hostess by not including your guest in our conversation. Anyway, Sandy, I hope you get paid well when you get down on all fours in front of the camera. Or do you just spread for the thrill of it?"

Blushing deeply, Sandy is slow to answer the question. In truth, she's too mortified to speak, and a statue would have a hard time matching her rigidity. It started in the car when Michelle decided to take her home to watch her masturbate, and after meeting her mother, rigor mortis has practically set in. "I...I don't make movies like that," she insists, "or any movies, for that matter! And I wasn't going to use a vibrator in the car! I was only digging in my purse for some gum and--"

"You use gum to get off?" Jill interrupts. "You must really like it sticky! And you must shave your bush else your curls would get trashed!"

"Don't be so stupid," Michelle chides her mother. "Sandy's just shy. She uses a dildo like everyone else, and if she wants, she can use mine."

"Well, if she's going to get off in my house, I get to watch," Jill insists, taking Sandy by the wrist and leading her into the living room. "She can use the sofa because it's already filthy, and it will make it easier to see her holes." Addressing Sandy directly she says, "I assume you pleasure your ass too, right? The girls just uses their fingers, but we mature gals can take it full blast. It's the one good thing about getting older, huh?"

"Then I'll also bring your bed buddy!" Michelle says, going into the bedroom to get her huge dildo and her mom's vibrator.

"Don't let Michelle rush you into this," Jill says after seating Sandy on the sofa. "I mean, she's like a fucking rabbit, always so eager to jump on someone. So unless you're dripping wet and are dying to explode, feel free to finish your drink and relax a bit."

Though Sandy is practically gulping her gin, she's hardly relaxing, for she feels drawn into a scenario from which there's no exit. Her inner voice has kept silent, so her conservative side is still in control. But though she definitely objects to the proceedings, all she can manage are fractured sentences and a heated, anxious expression. Predictably, Jill sees only excitement building in the redhead's face, and after joining her on the sofa, the devious waitress crosses her legs and runs her hand up and down her stockings.

"So you're hitting on her already!" Michelle says, returning from the bedroom with the lady-pleasers. "And you call me a bad hostess! Shit, you'll have her eating your pussy before she's even undressed!"

"Watch your fucking language!" Jill says, playing the strict mother. "And I'm not hitting on her," she adds, though her right arm rides the back of the sofa, and her fingers comb through Sandy's red locks. "If she doesn't want to do me, fine. But since she hasn't said anything to the contrary, there's no harm in being friendly."

"Yeah, right!" Michelle mocks, plopping her pink monster into Sandy's lap. "So what do you think? If that doesn't do it for you, we'll have to borrow my neighbor's baseball bat!"

Sandy stares at the big dildo with unbelieving eyes. The average woman would have trouble taking half of the horse-sized, thick-veined toy that has "scream" written all over it. "This...this isn't r-right!" she stammers, shaking her head while venting a nervous laugh. "It's way too... too...and everything is moving so--"

"Just tell us what you want, honey," Jill says, giving her an understanding hug. "If you need a little foreplay, we'll be glad to help you out." Her fingers tease the tips protruding from the front of Sandy's dress, and meeting no resistance, she boldly cups each breast. "Mmmm!" Jill says, licking Sandy's ear. "You've got lovely tits! And your nipples feel as fat as mine."

"Give her some sweet kisses!" Michelle urges, much aroused by the seduction scene and helping out by running the vibrator up and down her classmate's trembling calves.

Moistening her mouth with slow sweeps of her tongue, Jill moves in close and bathes Sandy's face in the hot fumes of alcohol and cheap perfume. "You've got such nice full lips, honey!" she purrs. "I'd love to feel them tour my entire body!"

Sandy offers no compliments in return--and for several reasons. For starters, she's so shocked by the goings on that she's incapable of speech. Besides that, the booze in her system has hit home and frazzled her brain. But what truly makes her mute is having her mouth covered by Jill's and feeling a big spicy tongue assail her own. Soon gasping for air and a new identity, she pushes the waitress away with imploring hands. 

"Am I going too fast for you, sweetheart?" Jill asks. "Or would you rather just get it on with Michelle? I mean, you didn't come here to do me, though I'd love for you to go down on me like an uncaged slut." 

"Her shyness is holding her back," Michelle insists, having seen the condition many times before and always successfully treating it. "Sandy really likes you a lot because there's heat in her eyes. She just needs to loosen up a bit, and the best way to do that is by dancing!"

"Would you like to strip for us?" Jill asks their guest. "Or do want us to strip for you? I mean, we're all going to wind up naked anyway. Shit, I'm halfway there already!"

"Don't bother talking to her," Michelle says, yanking Sandy off the sofa. "She's crippled by shyness, but I'm going to cure her whether she likes it or not!" After switching on the radio, Michelle tries to turn on her classmate, moving to the music while shedding her T-shirt and jeans. Jill eyes her daughter's curves with more than motherly interest, but since she can view them any time, she's eager to see Sandy's charms. So she urges her daughter to give the redhead a hand, for the latter only stands and shakes as if posing for a sculptor with Parkinson's. Quick to obey her mother, Michelle removes Sandy's dress, exposing her damp bra and panties.

"We're finally getting somewhere!" Jill says, lying back on the sofa and openly rubbing her crotch. "Now see if you can get her to put her sweet tits and ass on display!"

Michelle peels off her own underwear and lewdly struts her stuff, buttering three fingers in her muff and sliding them in and out of Sandy's mouth. "I know she wants to lick my pussy," she assures her mom, "for I can see her dreaming about it in class!" But before the redhead can refute her, the blonde drops to her knees, pulls down Sandy's panties, and grabs a fistful of bush hair as if about to shave her the hard way. "Look at her snatch drip!" she says to Jill, lubing her fingers with graduate grease. "I bet she fucks it ten times a day to keep it so hot and wet!" Now wiping her hand clean on Sandy's thighs, the blonde works her way behind the redhead to undo her bra. "Hasn't she got great tits?" she says to her mom while feeling up Sandy's D-cups. "If my boobs were this big, I'd drench them in syrup and suck on them all day!"




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 5



Michelle's thrusts from behind force Sandy to move, and Jill applauds her daughter's skill as a dance instructor. "Keep it up, baby! Her ice is definitely melting! Shit, you look so fucking hot together I just have to get it on film!" Jill grabs her camcorder and crouches before the naked women to take some up-angled shots. But though she gets several close-ups of the redhead's tits, it's Sandy's pussy that captures her camera's eye. "I simply adore her furry beaver!" Jill gushes to her daughter. "If this bitch lived with us, I'd fuck her twenty-four, seven! Now spread her cunt-lips wide so I can get a nice shot of her pink meat!" 

Eager to comply, Michelle grasps Sandy's labia and pulls them open like an accordion. Jill films so close that she smears the lens, then switches places with her daughter so she can 'dance' with the redhead, too. Though her body is no longer hard and lean, Jill's figure is still balanced, and as a former stripper, she knows how to move. In fact, her hip sways alone create heat waves that raise the temperature in the room. But her best assets are her sexy legs which look luscious in black hose, and she leaves her heels and stockings on after peeling off all else.

"You look totally nasty together!" Michelle says to her mother, filming the women from strange angles. "Your tits and pussies are so much alike that you could pass for sisters! I bet that feeling up Sandy is like feeling up yourself!"

"It is!" Jill lustily admits, keeping her naughty hands busy as befits a good waitress. "But I wish she'd come out of her shell and show me some sugar as well."

"Try licking her pussy!" Michelle suggests. "You're fucking good at it, and I'm sure it'll sweeten her attitude!" 

Jill drops to her knees and brashly dives into the red-haired cunt, parting the shaggy lips with her tongue and vigorously sucking the swelling clit. Sandy responds as would any woman suffering the combined effects of sex, alcohol, and a nervous breakdown. She stammers out the imperatives, "Please!" and "Don't!" and "Stop!" But Jill strings them together like a strand of pearls and only increases her oral efforts.

Only now does Sandy's inner voice intrude to straighten her crooked conscience. "I was hoping you wouldn't need me," it chides, "for you should know your true self by now. You've made some progress, I'll admit, but you've still a long way to go. Now these women are literally bending over backwards for you and deserve a lot more than you're giving them. So let me remind you once more that you're a fucking whore, and that nothing's too dirty for you!"

Sandy foolishly tries to resist but is punished by a sharp pain in her gut, and when she shivers and grimaces in anguish, Michelle and Jill see it as sexual delight. "Want another jolt?" her conscious mocks. "Or are you going to surrender to your nature and accept your fate?" Another sharp pang makes Sandy fiercely nod in submission, making her companions believe that she's begging for more.

"Good girl!" her secret self says. "But it's really 'bad girl' isn't it? For being good gives you pain, but being bad brings joy. And you're going to be deliriously happy with these women, aren't you?"

"Yes!" she moans, giving in to her dark side. Magically, her rigidity and confusion are replaced with motion and design, and the eyes she casts down on Jill are filled with near criminal desire. "I love the way you suck me!" she says, drooling spit onto her tits. "Your sweet lips feel like fire, and your tongue is like a molten dick!" Then looking directly into the camera, she makes a heart-felt confession to Michelle. "You were right. I do want to lick your gorgeous pussy, and I dream about it constantly it class! And I wanted to jack off in your car because you made me so fucking horny!" Motioning for her classmate to draw near, Sandy treats the camera's lens to a long wet kiss, one that threatens to short out the battery and nearly brings the blonde to orgasm.

"I told you dancing would do the trick!" Michelle brags to her mother. "If she gets any looser, you'll have to shampoo the carpet! Now it's time for her to get it on with my dildo!" 

"She's going to party with my vibrator, too!" Jill promises, leading Sandy to the sofa where they share an embrace that rocks their corrupted souls. Then lying back, the redhead spreads her legs and lets Michelle use her gash to lube the pink monster.

"Don't hold anything back!" Sandy says. "I want every sweet inch of that beautiful cock rammed up my fucking cunt! And I want that vibrator totally buried in my ass! I want both of you beautiful bitches to make me groan like a fucking porn star!"

"She sure wants a lot for a shy bitch!" Jill says to her daughter, worming her vibrator into the hungry anus while Michelle feeds the starving pussy. "Let's see who can lose her toy first!"

"You're on!" the blonde says, working her dildo like a chimney sweep to make up for her doubled distance. But though Sandy assists by pumping her cunt and urging her classmate on, Jill wins the contest hands down. Not a hint of her vibrator can be seen in Sandy's butt, though its presence is well reflected in her eyes. 

"God! That feels so fucking good!" Sandy groans. "My ass hasn't felt this great since I fucked a pack of hounds at a trailer park orgy!"

"Bad girl!" Jill says. "So you lied when you said you never did doggies! I've a good mind to spank you for being so deceitful!"

"Please do it!" Sandy pleads. "But let me get on my hands and knees like a good bitch, and then Michelle can fuck my pussy like a Great Dane!"

Once Sandy assumes the doggy position, Michelle finds the going easier, but seventeen inches is a lot of dick for even a closet whore. And though being spanked by a voluptuous, bisexual waitress helps, Sandy has to struggle to fulfill her sworn desire. Luckily, the dildo is pliable and doubles up in her cunt. But it's the devil's work getting it in, and she's shedding sheets of sweat when the last inch disappears. 

"What a tramp!" Michelle exults. "You're the first bitch I've brought home who could take it all! I bet you grew up on some farm and pleasured the horses every day!"

"I had to get in line," Sandy painfully confesses, "because my mom and sister rode them first! But they always saved the cum for me, though I had to lick it out of their asses!"

"I can see that spanking wasn't enough!" Jill says in mock disgust. "So now you have to lick my ass! Just pretend it's your mom's, and you might even get homesick!"

"Sounds yummy to me!" Sandy replies. "But I should warn you that my mom still limps from our last encounter!"

Electrified by the upcoming battle, Michelle grabs the camera as her mother launches a rear assault on Sandy's face. But the tongue awaiting her is combat-tested, and Jill shivers in response to the counterattack. More wary now, the waitress bobs her big butt in teasing circles like a wrestler taunting an opponent. But the redhead strikes like a cobra, darting out her tongue as if seeking a quick kill. The advantage goes this way and that as both women strive for supremacy. But the war is won in the trenches when a stream of juice rockets out of Jill's smoking muzzle and scores a direct hit on the enemy.

"The bitch made me spurt!" Jill cries to her daughter. "Did you see it fly out of my fucking pussy? Shit! I've never done that before! I hope you got it on film!"

"I caught every sweet drop!" Michelle says, wiping her camera clean. "I knew you'd learn to spurt once you found the right partner. And judging by the way Sandy worships your holes, I'd say she's right for the job!" 

"She's fucking perfect!" Jill gasps, retreating from her fierce opponent to recover from battle fatigue. "It's like she was made for it!"

"I was!" Sandy confesses, throwing her legs over the back of the sofa. "And I was also made for deep, relentless fucking, so get off your beautiful ass and get busy!" 

The doubled-up dildo in her cunt has found release, and the end sticking out makes her look like a hung hermaphrodite. Jill grabs the free end and begins working it up and down like a butter churn, and Sandy dares her leering daughter to take a ride on her face. 

"I can break any bitch!" Michelle brags, straddling her classmate like a bronco buster and grasping her nipples for reins. But once she settles into the saddle of Sandy's mouth, she's nearly thrown off before they're even out of the chute. 

"Ride 'em, cowgirl!" Jill urges her daughter, making Sandy buck by roughly spearing her cunt. 

Thrusting her hips and holding one hand held over her head, Michelle tries to show off but is quickly thrown. But the blonde has true grit and gets back in the saddle, this time holding on with both hands and not underrating her mount. "Fuck her! Fuck her!" she cries out to Jill who zealously responds, and together they work the wild red mare until she foams at the mouth and shudders in submission. Michelle's hips now move in harmony with her horse, and after making Sandy trot, she spurs her on for a fast gallop.

"Watch this!" the blonde says to her mother, rising off her saddle like a winning jockey and releasing a stream of juice from her cunt.

"That's the way to water your horse down!" Jill approves, watching the cum splash into Sandy's mouth. "But this fucking mare needs her vitamins, too!" the waitress adds, pulling the vibrator out Sandy's ass and shoving it down her throat. "Clean it, bitch!" Jill orders. "I want you to suck it so hard that the plastic melts!"

Sandy breaks blood vessels in her cheeks trying to please her trainer, and the vibrator is returned spic and span to her burning anus. The pink monster doubles-up again--but this time in two pussies--for Jill straddles Sandy and slides down the dildo until their bushes mesh like Velcro. The voluptuous women then bump and grind like whores from hell, making Michelle finger herself and wish she were more sinful and twenty years older.

"Fuck me harder!" Sandy begs, wrapping her legs around the waitress and squeezing her like an erotic sponge, causing bubbles of hot drool to collect in the corners of Jill's mouth.

"God! You're wonderful!" Jill cries as Sandy sucks her leaking lips, making her come equally from both cock and kiss. Spasming hard, her sharp groans are blunted by Sandy's tongue, and after the prolonged pleasure-pain subsides, the waitress rolls off her incredible lover and pants like an exhausted dog. But Sandy has no intention of letting the bitch rest, turning her hands and mouth loose on Jill's big breasts and working them like a lethal milkmaid.

"Christ!" Jill moans to her daughter. "She's going to suck my fucking tits off!"

"You love it, so quit bitching!" Michelle says, filming the action. "She's everything you ever wanted! Shit, you could probably piss in her fucking mouth, and she'd only love you more! Now spread your legs so I can see her play with your squishy cunt!"

Sandy has worked one hand down Jill's belly to torment her pussy, and the waitress throws open her lovely legs to aid both lover and daughter. Two of Sandy's fingers quickly disappear. Then three...then four. Soon, all that can be seen is the redhead's wristwatch.

"FUCK!" Jill shouts as Sandy masturbates her uterus, making her writhe and thrash like a carp in nylons. The sensations in her gut are beyond description, and she humps her lover's hand until she spurts a second time. Though blinded by love juice, Sandy keeps up the intimate massage until Jill nearly passes out, then mercifully slows her rhythm and softly kisses the twitching, plum-sized clit. 

Breathing like a beached whale with a harpoon up her ass, Jill sighs, dies, and goes to heaven wearing a blissful smile. But her love of earthly pleasures brings her back from the grave, and she crawls on top of Sandy to give her kisses straight from the pit.

"You beautiful, perverted ass-suck!" she praises, working her hand into her lover's hole to return the favor. "Where have you been all my fucking life?"

"Training with lewd bar sluts and hot trailer park whores!" Sandy gasps. "Until I was finally ready to service you right!" 

Her years as a waitress have given Jill quick fingers and strong wrists, and she works the red pussy as if she were clearing off a table and snatching up a tip. Her free hand makes a fist which she slowly grinds into Sandy's abdomen, and her lips and teeth lock onto the woman's clit like a x-rated vise clamp. The triple-header is enough to bring a buffalo to its knees, but Sandy's spastic legs keep pumping in the air while she bellows out for more.

"Fist her to the elbow!" Michelle dares her mom. "Pretend she's knocked up and give her a back alley abortion!"

Happy to go the extra mile to please her daughter, Jill works her way in until her forearm is buried. But the journey is hard labor for her lover who moans and groans as if birthing quintuplets. "Just a bit more!" Jill urges the redhead. "We're almost there, so suck it up, bitch!"

Like the guest of honor at an Aztec sacrifice, Sandy surrenders her depths for the final plunge. At the moment of truth, she rolls her eyes and contorts her face into an unworldly mask. But the savage shouts that ring out from her depths are all victorious, and Michelle films the bizarre feat as her oversexed classmate sobs with joy. Then slowly--reluctantly-- Jill withdraws her glistening arm until her creamy fingers finally emerge to massage two sweaty, heaving tits.

"I love you!" Jill says, now lying on top of Sandy and offering her a long string of drool.

"I love you, too!" the redhead responds, devouring the oral treat.

They kiss...and kiss...and kiss some more. 

And Michelle rubs her clit like a gypsy whore.

"Look at the slut I've raised!" Jill sighs as her daughter stands over the older women, drenching them with a huge gush of joy juice.

"I'd say you did a wonderful job!" Sandy says, licking it off the waitress' face and tits before thoroughly cleaning her daughter. 

Now sprawling on the floor, the trio entwine arms and legs until they form a virtual pile of female parts. Lips kiss, hands fondle, nipples harden, and pussies ooze, and before long a circle suck begins that rivals the sounds at a dairy farm.

"You're an insatiable fiend!" Jill tells Sandy after coming hard on her mouth twice more. "No one's ever pleasured my ass like that before! So let me pay you back, honey! Whatever you want, just name it!" 

"I know what she'd like!" Michelle says, teasing the hair on Sandy's pussy. "She'd love to be taken outside and fucked hard in the backyard! Believe me, bitches like her love to put out in public!"

"Would you like that?" Jill asks, teasing Sandy's nipples. "My neighbors would love to see you naked and gasping! Shit, they'd probably jump the fence and gang-bang you till midnight!"

"Mmmm! That certainly gets my cunt quivering," Sandy says, teasing a pair of fat clits. "But what I'd really like is for you and Michelle to discipline me for being such a fucking slut."

Jill and her daughter trade lascivious smiles, for both possess dark streaks that run for miles in their corrupted characters.

"And what would you suggest?" Jill slyly asks, tugging harder on the redhead's nipples.

"For starters, a lot more of that!" Sandy replies, experiencing a wave of pleasure from her agreeable conscience. "You could pretend I'm a new waitress at your cafe--and you catch me stealing your tips and going down on your girlfriend." 

"That would piss me off, all right!" Jill says. "I'd drag you into the bathroom and flush your fucking head down the toilet!"

"Is that all?" Sandy coyly protests. "But I deserve a lot more punishment than that!"

"I'd be giving you a good ass-kicking at the same time!" Jill hastily adds, already picturing the delicious deed in her wicked mind. "And the other waitresses would help, of course! We'd strip you naked and punish you right on the fucking counter and make you suck off every guy in the place!"

"So you're going to reward me!" Sandy says, smacking her lips in anticipation. "In that case, maybe I should have Michelle and some of her deviant friends do a number on me instead!"

"She's begging for abuse!" the capable blonde says to her mother. "Let's tie her up and make her groan like a fucking pig!"

"If she wants it rough," Jill says, furrowing her brow, "then rough is what she'll get! Okay, we'll need the clothesline from outside--and the clothespins! Then we'll attach a hook in the bathroom ceiling and hang her by her fucking ankles! And we won't let her down till she laps up all the toilet water!"

"After we piss in it!" Michelle adds.

"Still rewarding me," Sandy says with a yawn.

"We'll see about that!" Jill threatens, slapping the redhead several times while ordering Michelle to spank her ass.

"You're definitely getting my attention!" Sandy says, cringing from the brisk blows--but also absorbing them like sunshine. "But I hope you aren't too prissy to drag me outside by my tits and make me entertain your neighbors by servicing their dogs!"

Looking as if they just won the sexual lottery, mother and daughter drag Sandy outside in exactly the manner prescribed. The neighbors are drinking beer, smoking weed, and watching their pets copulate, but all scramble over the fence when they see what's going down in Jill's backyard. Several run to get their cameras as the redhead is properly positioned for her hairy admirers. 

"This is perfect!" Sandy said.

"Huh?"

"You can drop me here if you like," the redhead repeated, looking at Carmen with deep concern since her teacher seemed so out of it.

Carmen didn't like it, for she was hot and bothered and wanted her fantasy to continue. But she pulled over anyway and watched her favorite student depart her car.

"Thanks," Sandy said. "See you tomorrow."

Carmen nodded and took off in a flash, nearly running over a kid at the corner and swerving just in time to avoid a bus. But she proved it was possible to masturbate while driving--and live to tell about it. Satisfied for the moment, the professor slowly headed for home.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 6



She was dancing in the dark, twisting and turning on the sweat-soaked sheets. The glowing hands on the clock read twelve, but it was not midnight, for the curtains suppressed the light from the midday sun. Apparently, the woman had cooked up a delicious fantasy in the cauldron of her mind. But a shrink peering into her head would have seen a host of sly hands adding hellish ingredients, seasoning her erotic dream with nightmarish spices. 

"You are truly wicked!" the demons taunted Carmen, roasting her sinful flesh over a psychic fire. "Evil has no advocate greater than you! And when your time on earth is through, your soul will belong to us, and you will suffer forever! So die soon, bitch!"

Awakened by the licking flames, Carmen bolted upright in bed. Panting like a bitch in heat, she placed her hand over her heart as if to slow its infernal pulse. But the rest of her body cried for friction, especially her selfish nipples and pussy. However, she ignored their pleas to tend the needs of her soul, dashing into the shower to wash away her heat and shame.

"I am wicked," she said to herself, scrubbing her flesh with a stiff brush as punishment for her lust. "And I deserve to suffer the worst torments in hell because of my filthy mind." But as the bristles pricked her sensitive pubes, she found herself growing aroused, and she had to stop the mortification before it made her orgasm.

Trying hard to think holy thoughts, Carmen threw on a dress and sped off in her car to find a church offering a late service. But it was well past noon, and the souls fated for heaven were now drinking beer and watching porn tapes. Feeling damned and dejected, she drove through the park, hoping to find peace of mind in the bosom of mother nature. Chancing upon some people singing and dancing in the sun, she prayed that it was a religious celebration and a chance to redeem her soul.

Taking a blanket from her car, she sat at the rear of the gathering and quickly discovered that the worshipers were Hindus. Having studied Eastern religions, she identified the mandala at once--the circle of female devotees who supplied all the needs of their beloved guru. Spinning effortlessly as if made of rubber and springs, the girls looked gorgeous in their colorful saris which had been modified to show their tight bellies and calves. However, the object of their devotion was anything but in shape, for his belly and breasts were so pronounced that he could have passed for a pregnant woman on a bad hair day. Moreover, he would have faced a public indecency charge were it not for his tiny thong. But the bulge below his belly definitely labeled him a male, and Carmen found herself crafting a fantasy despite her best efforts to resist.

It's a hot Sunday afternoon, and an older redhead strolls into the park, lured there by the joyful noise and the promise of shade. Wearing a belly shirt and cutoffs, she approaches the Hindu gathering and watches the pretty dancers while a pair of eyes scrutinize her. 

"Want to share my blanket?" asks a voice from below.

The offer comes from a plus-size lady sucking on a Slurpee. Clad in a tight T- shirt and black leggings, she seems terribly out of place at this park affair. But her face is friendly, and not wanting to offend, Sandy accepts the woman's offer though her blanket lies directly in the sun. Leaning back on her elbows, Sandy spreads her legs to maximize the cooling effect of any wandering breeze. Even so, the sweat runs down her front and beads up on her belly. But the sun alone can't be blamed, for the big lady, named Betty, radiates lots of heat too, especially from her eyes. Troubled with her stare, Sandy focuses on the dancers.

"So what brings you here?" Betty asks, still running her eyes over the voluptuous terrain. "I mean, besides your pretty bare feet, that is."

"It was too hot to stay in my apartment," Sandy replies, "so I decided to go for a walk. And when I heard the commotion in the park, I thought I'd check it out." 

"The way you're dressed," Betty jokingly replies, "people are gonna check you out!"

"You think I look bad?" Sandy asks, never confident about such matters.

"Are you kidding!" Betty replies. "You look like Daisy Mae's mother! Not that I'm saying you're old. I meant that in a good way. And I doubt that your anyone's mother because your belly is free of stretch marks. You may have been knocked up once or twice since you're a good-looking gal, but Roe V. Wade to the rescue, right? Anyway, I'm a fine one to talk since I dress sluttishly myself. Worse yet, I'm a secretary in a Baptist church! What a joke, huh? But to be honest with you, I hate those holier-than- thou types. So I always push the envelop just to make them squirm. How about you?"

Sandy hesitantly replies that she was born a Lutheran, adding that she rarely attends services since her school work keeps her terribly occupied.

"Well," Betty says, "life is more than just pushing the grindstone. I mean, you're already sweating like some fucking ox! Here. You better take a swig from my Slurpee before your big boobs melt and leave you a flat-chested bitch."

"I often wish they were smaller," Sandy sighs, uncomfortable with Betty's language but grateful for the cold drink. However, for some reason she finds that it only makes her hotter. But then, she doesn't know that the secretary always spikes her Slurpees with whiskey, and the combination of sunshine and booze makes Sandy dizzy and anxious.

"You've got to let your hair down once in a while," Betty goes on, "or else you'll become as sterile as some fucking nun. Well, I imagine some nuns get off now and then. I bet they even make a habit of it. Hah! But seriously, you're a sexy woman with all the right equipment, and I'm sure you've got certain desires that scream to be satisfied."

Though Betty is as coarse as they come, her honesty and down-to-earth humor make it hard for Sandy not to trust her. Matching the church lady's candor, Sandy admits to having thoughts that are hardly conservative. "If people could see inside my head," she confesses, "well... they'd probably run screaming to the police! Or an exorcist!"

"Fuck 'em!" Betty stoutly replies. "Who cares what people think? Listen, you've got a right to live your own life, honey. And if you want to make porn movies and sell tapes of yourself pleasuring perverts, then just do it."

"That's...not what I mean!" Sandy replies, blushing deeply.

"I know exactly what you mean," Betty assures her. "Society loves to keep women in their place--which is still the kitchen and bedroom. So we're pressured to stay impossibly thin until we get knocked up and become nice church-going mommies. Well, I say fuck that shit! And I eat everything in sight--as long as it's female. You should stay away from guys too, at least until your baby oven is turned off. There's plenty of women to go down on these days, so you don't have to suffer. But I can see that you already know that, judging by the way you're ogling those dancers! They're way too skinny, but they do look tasty and juicy. Which one would you like to fuck?"

The question catches Sandy off guard, and her face turns as red as her hair. Words fail her, and her only response is to suck on the Slurpee until her cheeks indent. Betty interprets this as a bashful confession and pulls the redhead completely out of the closet.

"Step into the light, babe!" she advises. "Girls can now do girls without first going to prison--though being raped in a cage by a hot female guard does make it nastier! Anyway, you've got 'cuntsuck' written all over you, so don't try to deny it! You're drooling over that bitch in the gold sari, and I don't mean from your mouth! I hope you're also a little wet for me, but if you don't get off on big girls, I'll understand."

Stunned by the bold accusations, Sandy frantically sucks on the Slurpee until the straw makes a loud gurgling sound. Putting nothing but decadent spin on the act, Betty sees it as evidence of a truly outrageous slut who totally drains her lovers.

"Shit, you're worse than I am!" she says, playfully grabbing Sandy's belly roll and tugging aggressively on the sweaty flesh. "You're not only lusting after the girls but are mentally humping their guru! Christ, his cock must be over a foot long! If I weren't such a lez, I want to ball him myself! So what's your fantasy? I bet you're picturing yourself fucking him doggy while that girl in gold rubs her ass on your mouth!"

Before Sandy can die of embarrassment, another hand grabs her and tugs her off the ground. The very girl in question wants Sandy to join in the dancing and leads the reluctant redhead to the front of the gathering. After teaching her the basic moves, the mandala make her spin with her arms held overhead. The move makes Sandy more dizzy than ever and causes her belly-shirt to ride up her torso and expose most of her breasts. But this is a religious gathering, not a titty bar, so no one pays any attention to the carnal sight--except for the grinning guru, his grinning girls, and a grinning church secretary.

Reeling in confusion, Sandy collapses in the dancers' arms and is dragged back to her blanket where she's dumped in a pathetic heap. Betty tries to bring her around by repeatedly slapping her face, but Sandy stays inert while her nagging conscience again comes calling.

"So you still need my help," her inner voice begins, sending a jolt of pain streaking into her loins. "You should have learned your lesson by now, but you're still fighting yourself like some stubborn bitch! Here you've been presented with yet another chance to embrace your true self. Betty is beautiful and bodacious and desires you in the worst way. And the guru and his girls can teach you some very important lessons. But instead of welcoming their assistance, you panic and freeze like some vestal virgin! Well, I'm washing my hands of you and turning you over to a higher power who knows how to deal with insolence and rebellion! You deserve to be tortured forever in hell, but if you repent of your sins and show true remorse, your soul may yet be saved. If it were up to me, you'd be disciplined right here in the park! But the powers that be may choose a more private place to punish a worthless piece of shit like you!"

The rebuke ends with another low blow that leaves Sandy grimacing. But as the pain subsides, her alter ego grows, emerging from its dark prison and boldly stepping into the light. Opening her eyes, she gives Betty a grin that suggests her recent agony was orgasmic. And this look is followed by a long kiss that nearly makes the church lady come herself.

"Not that I'm complaining," the secretary says, licking her lips to savor the moment. "But if I'm only getting a single kiss, I would have liked it on a lower part. So what brings on the sudden passion?" 

"It's not sudden," Sandy assures her, stroking Betty's expansive hip in a manner usually reserved for the bedroom. "I wanted to taste your sweet lips the very moment I laid eyes on you. But not everyone appreciates my advances, so I had to be sure before I let myself go. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression because I adore pleasuring big women--and you're as delicious as they come. I mean, there's no way I'd ever reject you! Shit, I'd kill myself first! In fact, just looking at your mouth-watering curves makes my pussy run riot! Believe me, if we weren't in public, I'd shove this straw up your cunt and suck out your tangy juices like a maniac!"

This is sweet music to Betty's ears, and she urges the redhead to hotly sing on.

"You were right about the dancers," Sandy continues. "They are fucking gorgeous, though they should eat a lot more. And the girl in gold is something else! I'd love to mouth her snatch until I gagged on her cum! That's why I dropped to my knees while dancing, for I felt this urge to eat her right in front of the crowd!"

Sandy pauses to drag her tongue over Betty's lips. "But you were wrong about the daisy chain involving the guru. It's true that I was fantasizing about doing him doggy, but my tongue was reaming out your sweet asshole, not that skinny bitch's." 

Betty thinks she has died and gone to Dante's Inferno. She's been with lots of dirty women, but none more fit for the pit than this! But before she can lick the drool off her chin, the redhead does it for her.

"Mmmm!" Sandy purrs, sliding her hand between Betty's thighs. "If your cunt is half as sweet as your mouth, I'm going to glue my face to your fucking crotch!"

This sweet talk is followed by intimate touches, and though the crowd is oblivious to the lesbian action, the guru's watchful eyes catch every sinful trick. He abruptly ends the service and sends his golden girl over to invite the older women back to their motel for an advanced session of religious training.

"It's a great honor to be selected by the yogi," Hrada claims, keeping a straight face though she had read the book Candy. "In fact, some devotees wait all their lives and never experience the great bliss that accompanies a private audience. And did I mention the high levels of self-awareness and personal growth that can be achieved?"

"I'm sold!" Sandy says, eager to buy into any scheme that will keep her conscience happy. Of course, Betty is all for it, too, but not for religious reasons. So, hand in hand, the two women follow Hrada and her sisters to the parking lot. But they aren't allowed to ride with the holy people, for they're much too defiled, being wholly impregnated by the impure world. Instead, they're loaded into the back of a pickup. Neither complains, for it gives them the chance to swap corrupted compliments and show the depth of their impurity.

"You are so ass-licking yummy!" Sandy gushes, squeezing the church lady's crotch until her fingers grow shiny. "If you hadn't invited me onto your blanket, I would have run home and flushed my head down the fucking toilet!"

"Really?" Betty returns, feeling up the redhead's boobs. "You say the sweetest things, honey! And take it from me, you've got the nicest tits in town! I could milk you like a fucking cow all day, especially if I was squatting on your face!"

Before the two lovebirds can really get nasty, the truck pulls into a seedy motel, and they're ushered up the steps to a balcony on the second floor. But Hrada now informs them that they can't enter the holy chamber until they're rightly prepared. "First you must strip off all remnants of the gross, material world," she explains, biting her lip to keep from smiling. 

Betty, born to be blasphemous, grins like the Cheshire cat, for she knows this means baring it all in broad daylight on a balcony overlooking a busy highway. But Sandy regards this seriously, and she doesn't giggle or smile when the mandala remove her clothes. In fact, she's already risen to such a high state of consciousness that nothing can break her concentration--not the sensation of having oil rubbed into her breasts and pubes, not the sound of honking cars passing by, not even the shrill howl of a huge, unleashed hound. 

"Now you must show your unworthiness and desire to submit," Hrada says, instructing the women to get down on all fours. For the mandala never walk when they can ride, especially when beasts of burden are available. So two girls board Betty, who leads the way like a circus elephant, and two mount Sandy, slapping her ass to hurry her along.

Once inside, Betty discovers that the "holy chamber" is just a hot, stinking dump that would benefit from a fire. The carpet, stained and threadbare, is littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, and assorted other junk. A soiled mattress lying directly on the floor hides some of the garbage, but a two hundred watt bulb dangling from the ceiling brings all else into glaring view, especially the large posters of the fully naked guru that are plastered on every wall. However, the lurid art helps hide the holes in the plaster, and the constantly running toilet helps drown out the rotgut music squawking from a cheap radio. 

Sandy's eyes, however, are filled with sights divine, for her face is nearly stuck up Betty's big ass. All she presently sees or cares about is the secretary's hairy crotch, and given the fierce illumination of the room, she takes in every dimple, fold, and crevice. But her attention switches to the reclining yogi who suddenly claps his hands.

"The lowest and most worthless of you must crawl to the guru and kiss his blessed feet," Hrada commands. Given the two women in question, it's not an easy thing to decide. But to eliminate any arguing and to speed things along, Hrada kicks Sandy's ass and knocks her onto her belly. The blow is hardly necessary, however, for the penitent is eager to claim the title, and she worms her way across the filthy floor to bestow kiss after kiss on the yogi's dirty toes.

"You are truly wicked and base," the yogi accuses her, being an expert on reading people and having an especially good take on redheads. "Every vile sin in the world is crammed into your filthy soul. Is this not true?"

"Yes!" Sandy freely confesses, working her tongue up his calves. "I'm as vile and filthy as they come--and then some!"

"But you foolishly deny this," the guru goes on, looking deeply into her heart and focusing on her D-cup breasts. "And this denial insults the gods who made you the dirty whore that you are. Is this not true?"

"Yes!" Sandy readily admits, now licking his thighs. "I'm the dirtiest whore on earth, but I foolishly deny it!"

"And it is due to your stupid rebellion," he continues, peering into the pit of her soul and seeing a mass of red pubic hair. "You wish to see yourself as a good girl, though you are actually very, very bad. And you need to be scrubbed clean of this filthy defiance. Not so?"

"Yes!" Sandy openly avows, depositing oral gifts at the base of his genital altar. "I'm a bad girl for trying to be good! And I need to be scrubbed totally clean!"

"I doubt that the gods themselves could do that!" the guru says. "Not even if they used a great big brush! But it is good you that acknowledge your many, many sins, for it will make it easier for you to bear your punishment. However, a woman as perverted as you regards pain and humiliation as pleasure. And great suffering only brings you great joy. Is this not so?"

"Yes!" Sandy strongly affirms, sucking the sweat out of his bulging thong. "Nothing brings me more bliss than being used and abused and treated like a cheap whore!"

"Then we will likely wind up rewarding you!" the yogi says, clapping his hands to signal his mandala that it's time to get cracking. 

Dragging Sandy onto the mattress, the girls tie ropes around her thick ankles and pass the ends through hooks sunk into the ceiling. Then they hoist her aloft, leaving her helpless and dangling upside-down. Because the room is stifling hot--and their labor will be vigorous--the girls strip naked and gather training tools from the assorted junk on the floor. One chooses a fly swatter; another, an old rolling pin; a third picks up a homemade lash; and Hrada, the senior member of the mandala, wields a stiff toilet brush.

Betty feels blessed at being allowed to witness the divine ritual, and she plants her big ass close to the mattress to get a front row seat. In truth, she has long carried a dark germ that infects every cell in her body, and her eyes grow nearly as big as her butt as she watches her new friend get what's coming to her. 

Working as a team, the mandala move in a vicious circle, punishing Sandy's sinful flesh with practiced skill. The redhead's thighs, belly, and ass receive a steady volley of blows, but her breasts and crotch are hardly ignored. Neither is her face considered off limits, for she receives many brisk slaps from each of the girls. Before long, every inch of her suspended body bears the marks of holy correction.




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 6



But the torment's not over. Hrada now hands out clothespins for her sisters to affix to the spot of their choice. Predictably, Sandy's nipples and labia become favorite sites, playing host to a dozen of the laundry devices. But her large calves and belly flab are painfully adorned as well, and she winds up with over a hundred clothespins pinching her flesh.

Sandy has been moaning all along, but her cries are not in complaint. She knows in her heart that it's for her own good, and her hunger for redemption converts the pain into pleasure. So she urges the mandala to pour it on, and the girls do that very thing during a well-deserved beer break. However, it's Betty who gets doused first, for she's overheated and needs to keep her temperature below two hundred degrees. Besides, Hrada has a special bath reserved for Sandy, onr that involves brew that doesn't come in a can. Thrusting her pelvis forward, she parts her pussy and arcs a thick stream of golden wine onto the inverted woman's cunt.

"How does that feel?" she asks, watching her bladder brandy run down the redhead's belly to her bulging breasts. "Want a sip?" she then teases, slyly lowering her stream.

"Please!" Sandy begs, straining her neck to catch the hot piss directly in her mouth.

Hrada helps by holding her head up, then positions her pubes over Sandy's lips and releases the rest of her flow. "Taste good, you fucking whore?" she teases, plucking some curls off Sandy's cunt while pissing down her throat. The redhead responds by gulping and wincing in sweet agony. As a reward, Hrada also harvests some anal hair. 

The yogi then signals for the penitent to be lowered, and they dump Sandy on her head since it's her least important part. Betty is allowed to remove the host of clothespins and jerks them off with delight, saving the three on Sandy's clit for last. Since the church lady shows an obvious talent at dishing out divine punishment, she's invited to lend a hand and get in her licks.

"Clothespins are okay," she says to the girls, "but a bread maker like me knows a few kitchen tricks!" Getting busy on Sandy's tits, she kneads, punches, and squeezes them as if working on lumps of dough. "See?" Betty says when the boobs swell up two cup sizes. "It just takes a little elbow grease!" The church lady then makes Sandy place her breasts on a coffee table and applies the rolling pin to them, working the tips till they double in length and leak some fluid. Applauding Betty's skill, the mandala urge her to go on, so she milks the tits into a bowl, then makes Sandy lap it up while spanking her hard, commenting, "If I knew she liked slut-training this much, I would have kicked her fucking ass back in the park!" 

"You should have!" Sandy groans. "But there's nothing stopping you now, so give me your best shot!" After wriggling her ass at Betty, she's rudely rocked forward by the church lady's foot. A second kick follows, then a third and fourth, and the deep bruise that develops earns high praise from the crowd. But Betty has her limits and finally drops from exhaustion, though having her big pussy licked soon revives her.

The guru now rises to inject himself into the scene, and the size of his erection suggests that something else will be injected, too! He walks three times around the redhead, running his hand over her contours, kicking her spare tire, and checking under her hood. To the mandala, his mysterious motions mean he'll have to surrender his divine essence three times in order to purify the whore. But to Betty it looks more as if he's contemplating the purchase of a good used car.

"Take her for a test drive" the church lady urges. "See how she handles curves at a high rate of speed!" Now Betty has a particular curve in mind--the one arching out from the guru's crotch. And when the mandala remove his blessed thong, a respectful hush fills the room, for it's not everyday that one gets to see a fourteen inch dick!

Sandy instantly views the yogi as a member of the AMA--that is, as a doctor and a true god. Her jaws drop open and she throws out the welcome mat for her lord and savior. The guru oils her protruding tongue with his dripping head, then slowly shoves his monster into her mouth. But it's too slowly for the kneeling redhead, and she sucks him in to his balls like an atomic Hoover. More terrified than aroused, the yogi launches a quick prayer to heaven and holds on for dear life.

Now Sandy knows that his essence is the key to salvation, and that this key is locked mystically in his cum, so she labors to get all she can. Soon a pair of deep groans dominate the room, one hailing from a spasming guru, the other from a gulping whore. But when the holy man tries to disengage himself, he finds that he's caught in a toothy trap. To save their master's beloved manhood, his mandala fiercely tug on Sandy's legs, and his dick comes out with a loud "Pop!"

Already Sandy feels cleaner--though her messy chin says otherwise--but there's still some "good girl" in her that must be eradicated. So the guru kneels behind her to purify her pussy as well. Once again, he teases her swollen lips and starts to enter her slowly. And once again, she jumps the gun and draws him with the force of a black hole. The guru now plays the urban cowboy as the mare he's riding is fit for the rodeo, bucking hard as if trying to throw him off. But this will never happen, for Sandy has all fourteen inches firmly clamped in her pussy vise. As she humps the cock with brute authority, heaven receives another quick plea, then both rider and horse groan with glee.

Their separation requires the mandala's help once more, and though there's still one hole to purify, the guru is nearly played out. But a trip to the spa in the redhead's mouth reinvigorates his divine shaft, and soon it's poised to undertake the scariest adventure of all! No prayers are launched this time, for the yogi, changing tactics, plunges headlong into Sandy's unclean ass. She squeals like a pig and grunts like a boar, but then, this is a gal who truly loves pork.

But she also loves keeping her promises and cries out for Betty's big butt. Not one to pass up a free lube job, the secretary parks her ass in front of Sandy's mouth, and the tongue that greases her anus brings back memories of her dear mother. The vulgar sight is way too much for any holy man to withstand, and the last of the yogi's essence is sucked into the redhead's bottomless pit. Shuddering with joy at being cleansed of her sins and any moral residue, she soars to the heights of consciousness and madly keeps fucking and sucking. Nothing intrudes on her perfect bliss--not the sound of a gunshot on the balcony, not the appearance of a menacing figure in the doorway, not even the growl of a huge dog lumbering into the room.

"What the hell's going on?" demands a Rubenesque blonde in an open bathrobe who holds a hatred for panties and razors. "I hear this racket going on in my motel, and then some asshole takes a shot at me! Betty? Is that you? I'd know that big butt anywhere!"

"Hi, Donna!" Betty says, wiping her ass on Sandy's mouth while petting the big hound. "I thought you and Buck here took off with that carnival lez."

"We did," Donna replies. "But the skinny bitch died our first night out after sixty- nining with me on top. And who's this fucking redhead that you're trying to kill? I know she didn't check in, for I never would have let her out of the office!"

"Her name will be 'Shit-face' after I'm done with her!" Betty swears. "But she'll also answer to 'Ass-suck' since she does it so fucking well! I met her in the park and would have played with her there, but the yogi here had other plans for this perverted bitch!"

"She is one for the books, all right!" the yogi quickly agrees. "In fact, she tried to kill me in truly horrible ways and robbed me of my essence three times!"

"So get a lawyer and sue," Donna says. "But is you ask me, no woman is ever a true bitch until she willingly pleasures a dog. And since my hound is handy--"

"Yes! Yes!" the yogi quickly agrees. "That is the true test!" But his eagerness is not all sexual, for he's also behind on his rent. So seeing this as a chance to retain his holy chamber, he orders his mandala to ready the redhead for her beastly lover.

However, no preparation is needed. Sandy's new self-awareness is so high that all of her thoughts are junkyard low, and she welcomes Donna's doggie with friendly kisses and helps him mount her on the mattress. Her pussy, still sloppy with the guru's cum, makes loud slurping noises as it's hammered by the hound. And though Buck comes too early--like all inconsiderate males--she dutifully drains him thinking of his pleasure first. Spinning around to clean his slimy shaft and balls in her mouth, she sees that everyone is furiously masturbating. To spur them on and prove that she's rid of all remorse, she adds an oral commentary to her bestial act. 

"I love the taste of dog sperm in the morning!" she claims. "I never start my day without sucking off my landlord's mutt! His yummy cum is so sweet and runny, and I come just by hearing it slosh around my fucking gut! The only thing better is a back alley threesome and feeling load after load of mongrel cream spurt into my mouth, pussy, and ass!"

Like the others, Buck is all ears to such talk, and his gross cock stiffens as he imagines the redhead changing addresses and moving in with his blonde owner! The idea makes him spasm again, and he shoots a huge load into Sandy's mouth, trembling while she milks him with feverish hands, and barking approvingly when she gargles before swallowing. 

"That's the best I've had today!" she says, smacking her lips. "Too bad nobody was filming this, for it would be a hot seller in the local stores!"

In fact, a camera has been running all along--one hidden in the wall by a certain blonde motel owner--and when Sandy stuffs Buck's dick up her ass to let him match the guru's output, everyone in the room contributes to the money shot. 

"Can't you see the three of us at my place killing a few hours?" Betty says to Donna.

"I see the two of us in my bed killing a few years!" the blonde replies. "But you and Buck can join in now and then. How about it, Red? Want to move in with my doggie and me? You could work off your rent by keeping the rooms tidy."

"I'd love living here and being your maid!" Sandy gushes, crawling over to Donna and drooling on her feet. "I can provide you with some excellent references, and I'm really good at cleaning toilet seats! Besides that, I could exercise Buck every day! I know he likes the way I play with him, and I'll work just as hard at fully servicing you!"

"I can vouch for her character!" Betty says, watching Sandy suck on Donna's big belly. "And I can assure you that she's got more stamina than any fucking carnival slut!"

"There's one way to find out!" Donna says, grabbing the redhead by her hair and dragging her over to the mattress. The foreplay done, the blonde sits on Sandy's face, rubbing her pussy and ass on a very obliging mouth. The blonde then stretches out to sixty-nine, and though Sandy turns blue, she stays alive. But the true test of her endurance comes when they switch positions. For Betty now boards the redhead, humping her hotly from above while Donna thrusts from below. Like the mayo in a sandwich, the cum spurts out of Sandy's holes, and though it's truly a divine sight, it proves too much for the guru and his girls. They're driven outside to escape the torrid heat--and not a moment too soon! For the lesbian orgy also proves too much for the floor, and the women crash though the ceiling of the room below, killing a Baptist minister in bed with his teenage daughter.

"What a horrible way for a man of God to go!"

"Huh?"

"Weren't you watching?' asked the woman sitting next to Carmen. "The guru just had a heart attack, and it doesn't look like he'll pull through!"

"I saw everything," Carmen replied, bunching up her blanket before anyone could notice the stain. "And I wouldn't worry about the yogi, for heaven takes care of its own."

Feeling restored and guilt free, the naughty professor headed home.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 7



Carmen groaned. The dog days of August had arrived, and her air conditioning was on the fritz. No matter what she did, she couldn't get cool, including lying naked on the tiles of the bathroom floor. But her distress was not due to the muggy weather only, for heat always made her horny, and she suffered cruelly until she got off.

The problem was her mind. Though more gifted at fantasy than the average novelist, she had hit a wall on the creative road that could not be overcome. Naturally she blamed Sandy. The redhead so dominated her thoughts that, for the past year, every one of her juicy orgasms had been roasted over Sandy's flames. But after casting the woman in several searing dramas, the fire had gone out.

Now bent over and with her back to the fan, Carmen gazed out the window as the breeze blew through her legs. A mother and her children were coming down the walk, the kids holding balloons while mama munched caramel corn. "Family values," Carmen said to herself. Where was daddy? Back at the fairgrounds still watching the strippers?

Carmen's legs suddenly began to tremble. Though nothing had been fleshed out, the idea was irresistible, and she became so engrossed in her rejuvenated thoughts that she forgot she was posing naked to the world. The kids pointing at her provided the first clue, and the frown from their mother drove her away from the window. "Had Daddy stayed with his family," Carmen mused, "he would have seen a better show!" Now buzzing with energy, she threw on a cotton dress, dashed to her car, and drove off laying rubber. August was good for that. But it was also good for carnival fantasies, an untapped mine that was bursting with sexual gold.

Dizzy with ideas, Carmen couldn't get to the fairgrounds fast enough. Running red lights all the way, she parked by a fire hydrant and headed straight to the beer tent to prime her imagination. At once her senses were assaulted. The acrid odor of sawdust, beer, and sweat was overpowered by the sweet smell of cotton candy and corn batter frying in thick grease. But the visual and aural treats were challenging as well, ranging from snorting, whirling rides to raucous babes in tight attire.

Some of the women looked more dangerous than the rides, having 'carny' stamped all over them like full body tattoos. These loose Southern trailer- bitches intrigued Carmen greatly, appearing as raw specimens of nature's dirtiest females, as famous for their high immorality and low intelligence as for their hip-busting jeans and braless tops. The males were easily identified by their mirrored sunglasses, their chain-smoking, and their public erections, the latter fueled by anything in a skirt.

Having gathered a slew of sordid blossoms from the garden of the midway, the professor returned to the beer tent to arrange her flowers into a steamy bouquet. Now on her third cup of suds, she slyly lubed her slit with foamy fingers, then headed for the merry-go-round and a fast horse.

"Don't stop till I tell you," Carmen said to the carny running the ride, handing him a fifty-dollar bill and climbing aboard a magnificent stallion. The carny leered at her ass, shrugged, and threw the switch. Surging up and down in an eternal race, the horses were off and running, and so was Carmen's fantasy.

It's the end of summer, and Sandy is near death. The hot, muggy weather seems to shadow her like a stalker, and she's praying for fall and the return of cooler skies. Unable to abide her stifling apartment, she pulls on a short red skirt and an old V-neck top with a faded cat stitched on the front. Her simple wardrobe reveals more of her figure than she likes, but at least the skimpy getup allows her to breathe. Now setting off for a walk, she heads nowhere in particular, wandering like a gypsy until her clogs carry her to the fair. The noises and smells both attract and repel her, but the promise of shade and something cold to drink lure her onto the grounds.

Passing by many stalls and booths, she draws her share of leers and comments. The unwanted attention makes her nervous and fidgety, and she enters the beer tent only because it's nearby. The young men gulping suds give her cursory sexual glances, but the old guys rate her much higher, eying her full curves like seasoned art critics who consider the voluptuous female as a fine thing to behold.

But an older brunette in leopard leggings sees neither classic art nor quick sensuality. She reads people like Bluebeard did treasure maps, and sees the redhead as an undiscovered isle of forbidden delights. As pierced as the pirate, she casts off from her corner and sails across the beer tent to drop anchor by Sandy's side.

"Hi," she says, with a shake of her long hair. "I'm Toni. I saw all those bastards mentally raping you, so I thought I'd come to your rescue. The least I can do is block their view. But to be honest, honey, you are flying the 'fuck me' flag."

Still panting from the heat, Sandy blushes and stares at the many rings adorning Toni's ears, nose, and belly button. She stops counting at twenty, not including those fastened to the brunette's nipples which are clearly visible under her thin top. After clumsily introducing herself, Sandy stammers something about the humidity, then greedily gulps the beer that Toni courteously buys her.

"By the way, I love your pussy," the brunette says. "I mean the one on your shirt, of course. It's nice the way his whiskers poke your nips. But then, you've got the boobs for a top like that. My little guys are only good for piercing. But I think my ass is all right, especially when I show it off in these jungle leggings. Hey, you know what, honey? We're a matched pair! For I've got a cat clinging to my ass, and you've got one hugging your tits!"

Toni laughs, showing a mouthful of crooked, smoke-stained teeth. Sandy smiles sheepishly and drops her gaze so as not to notice. But the brunette thinks she's peeking at her pubes, trying to guess whether they're pierced as well. Thrusting her pelvis, the outlines of her pussy rings appear. Sandy blushes, not knowing where to park her eyes. To loosen her up, Toni lights a joint and exhales a huge puff that engulfs the redhead in an acrid cloud.

"Is that…grass?" Sandy asks, her eyes stinging from the smoke.

"It aint no Camel," Toni replies. "Shit, we smoke weed all the time around here. Nobody gives a fuck, and it's cheaper than tobacco, what with all the taxes. Take a hit." Before Sandy can refuse, the brunette pops the joint into her mouth. Only to be polite, the redhead takes a drag, and the chemicals rush straight to her brain. "I wish this stuff hit me that fast!" Toni says, putting her arm around the redhead, allegedly to keep her from staggering. "Shit, you look like you're ready to collapse! Want to come back to my trailer and lie down a bit?"

"You...work for the carnival?" Sandy asks, still weaving side to side.

"Have for twenty years, honey. My ex runs the hoop game, but I work with the girls at the pony ride. Things are pretty slow right now, so I'm taking a break. And I really think you should get off your feet."

"Thanks for the offer," Sandy says, uncomfortable with the feel of the woman's hand on her hip. "But I'm okay now. Really. I'm fine."

"I hope you're not saying that just 'cause I'm a carny," Toni says. "People are always putting us down, you know. They call us so many fucking names that you'd think we were from Mars! But shit, we're just like normal folks--only a lot more horny!"

Sandy gulps more beer to keep from responding, and soon her sense of self is soaring high above reality. She's aware that Toni is talking, but the words are indistinct and seem to come from miles away. She barely notices when the brunette takes her arm for a tour of the carnival, for the sights, smells, and sounds have merged into a single blurred spectacle like a giant canvas with smeared paint. 

Toni, of course, knows everyone in her carny family, but it's because everyone knows her that she and her new friend draw such stares. Her ex, in particular, wets his lips in jealousy when she parades by the hoop toss game with Sandy in tow. "It never takes you long," he says, congratulating Toni on her recent conquest. "I'd toss a ring at her tits but they're too fucking big!"

"I think they're purr-fect!" Toni replies, casually reaching up to pet the kitty hugging the redhead's chest. Though Sandy is out of it, a part of her knows this isn't kosher--not even for carnies--and she groggily pulls Toni's hand away. "What's the matter, honey?" the brunette asks as if genuinely surprised. "Not enough of a crowd? I mean, shit, you're a natural for the girlie show. I can just see you baring your boobs on stage for the leering rubes and rednecks!"

"Gloria would take her on," her ex affirms, blatantly scratching his bulging crotch while ogling Sandy's tits. "She's always looking for local talent--especially if big red here has a nice tongue!"

"Do you have a nice licker?" Toni asks Sandy, reaching into her mouth like a lesbian dentist. "Stick it out for me. Oh, yeah! That's a nice pussy-pleaser, sugar! Some guys have dicks smaller than that! Shit, I can think of lots of fun things to do with you!"

Sandy hears the dirty dialogue being traded, but like a derailed train, it arrives at her brain in a delayed, fractured fashion. So she only smiles politely as if they're discussing the weather. The beer is partially to blame, of course, but she's also standing in the full sun, and the heat disorients her even more as it penetrates her flesh. A mass of dark freckles breaks out on her sweaty face and chest, and both carnies interpret this as an obvious sign of burgeoning desire.

"Shit, she does have an eager beaver!" Toni's ex says, lighting a joint and blowing out a huge smoke ring that encircles Sandy's chest. "So what will it cost me to rent her for an hour?"

"Since when can you last an hour?" Toni retorts. "Besides, I only brought her here to piss you off. But if you give me back my diamond, I might let you have a little taste."

"Shit, I pawned that months ago."

"Then you'll have to settle for your fucking hand!" Saying that, Toni leads Sandy off toward the haunted house. The carny in charge is an old buddy who lets the women board for free. Snuggling close in the little car, Toni drapes her arm around Sandy's shoulder. But once they're inside, her fingers get busy, pulling up the redhead's top in order to sample her tempting D-cups.

"God, you're stacked!" Toni says, aggressively squeezing Sandy's tits. "I wanted to do this back in the beer tent, but the guys would have erased your face with their cum! Now give me a sweet kiss, honey, and shove that big tongue of yours right down my fucking throat!"

Part of Sandy is still in the beer tent, for her brain has not caught up with current events. Now surrounded by chilling screams and moaning ghouls--and crushed by cloying hands and suffocated by a drooling mouth-- she thinks terrorists must have blown up the fairgrounds while she was eating a hotdog.

"I bet you're nice and wet for me!" Toni says, reaching up Sandy's skirt to fondle her hairy mound. "Mmmm! You should be on a fucking leash, bitch, for you're shaggy as a dog! I keep mine shaved like the dancers in the show, but it's always nice to fuck some fur for a change of pace!"

As the brunette works three fingers into the redhead's hole, a spooky skeleton flies past, leering at the lez scene and wishing it still had a serviceable dick. As if sensing the cadaver's desire, Toni grabs its leg and snaps off a femur, then uses the thigh bone to probe Sandy's cunt.

"You like that, honey?" Toni asks, working the long bone in and out. "It won't give you any joy juice, but it will last a lot longer than some men I know! Shit, I wish there was more light in here so I could see your cunt in action!"

Sandy responds with loud groans--but not because of the femur. Still suffering a lag in time, she's seeing Toni feel her up by the ring toss game. She wants to say that she's simply not that kind of girl, that even if a part of her is, she needs more privacy and less people around, and that she wanted to run like mad to escape the leering carny who was scratching his balls. But her speech mirrors the sad condition of her brain, and she gasps out the following words.

"I'm...simply...that kind of girl! I need...more...people around! I want to...run like mad to...the carny scratching his balls!"

"I knew you were a fucking exhibitionist!" Toni says. "Honey, if you want to perform for a crowd, that can easily be arranged! I'm betting Gloria will put you in a special show! And since you're hungry for my ex, I'll let the jerk perform with you!"

The ride finishes with a blinding flash as their car emerges into daylight. The bone is still stuck between Sandy's legs, and Toni pulls it out and hands it to her carny pal, shrugging. Then she hustles her hot to trot friend down the midway to the girlie show, taking her around to the back where several half-naked women are smoking and sipping whiskey while loungingn chairs in front of a trailer.

"Hey, y'all," the brunette says. "Look what I got here!"

The dancers, all thin and young, aren't terribly impressed with Toni's find. "She's got nice boobs," one says, yawning.

"But her ankles are fat," says another. "And she's too fucking old for dancing, besides."

"Screw her fucking ankles," Toni argues. "She's twice as hot as any of you bitches! And she has this deep itch to put out in public!"

"How deep?" asks an older blonde in a robe who now comes out of the trailer. She's clearly the woman who runs the show, and Toni gives her a hard sales pitch.

"Is hell deep enough? Shit, Gloria, Sandy here is the hottest piece of redheaded ass you'll ever find! She practically begged me to fuck her in the haunted house! And then she demanded a crowd!"

Gloria has been around the block and is not an easy sell. Besides, Toni has brought her lots of women before, and few lived up to their star billing. After walking around Sandy to size her up, the blonde pulls up her shirt. "Her tits are okay, but I've seen better. What does she have for a bush?"

Toni proudly lifts Sandy's skirt, combing her fingers through the dense pussy hair. "Not bad," Gloria says, fingering the cunt for herself. "I'm partial to hair, though razors are the rage. And you say she loves to put out? I suppose I could put her in a novelty show. So how much do you want to rent her out?"

"How does half the gate sound?" Toni replies.

"It's hardly music to my ears. Tell you what. I'll go as high as a quarter--but only if she's really good. And she auditions first."

"Not a problem," Toni says. "Do I get to watch?"

"You can bring your fucking camera," Gloria says, taking Sandy by the wrist and pulling her inside the trailer. *

What the beer and grass didn't do to Sandy's brain is accomplished by cheap whiskey and a hot bed. Her 'audition' lasts for a good three hours, and she spends the afternoon as one would expect, lying naked on her back and eating carny cunt. However, her own pussy gets a workout as well, for Gloria repeatedly tests it durability with a horse-sized dong.

But while swallowing her umpteenth load of cum, Sandy is mentally riding through the haunted house, aghast to discover that Toni is fucking her with a bone. Her sudden protest is muffled by the big ass sitting on her face, and Gloria reluctantly gets off to better hear what the redheaded bitch is mumbling. However, before Sandy can utter a word, her conscience intervenes for a little pep talk.

"I've been silent up to now since you've been behaving quite well, though your heart isn't in it, and your timing is way out of sync. That's a real shame because these carnival ladies are offering you an incredible experience, and they've already invested a lot of energy in your training. So before you retreat to your good girl self and say something stupid that will hurt these sweet women, I want you to snap out of your stupid funk and remember what you are. You're an aging slut and a filthy whore, nothing more, and by pleasuring others, you please yourself. Now do I have to add some pain in order to get this message through to you?"

Shaking her head, the cobwebs clear, and Sandy magically catches up on time. Knowing where she is and what she has done, she leans over to lick Gloria's shapely thighs.

"So how did I do?" she asks. "Did I pass your fucking test?"

"With flying colors," Gloria admits. "To be honest, I only brought you in here because I was bored. But I have to admit that you opened my eyes--along with my other juicy parts! In fact, you remind me of a bitch I met in Kentucky. That's a race horse state, you know, and the stallions finally did her in."

"I could keep up with them," Sandy brags, pulling the dong out of her cunt and licking it end to end.

"Half the gate!" Toni says, filming this last bit as she has the entire audition.

"You don't mind this carny pervert selling your ass?" Gloria asks the redhead. "She loves to take good girls for naughty rides."

"I'm not a girl girl," Sandy replies. "And I love naughty rides! Besides, Toni did something nice for me, and I always return favors!"

"And what if we treat you like a worthless sack of shit?"

"Mmmm!" Sandy purrs. "Now you're making me horny! I just hope that what you've got planned for me is really dirty!"

Gloria slips on her old robe and gulps a belt of whiskey. "Half the gate it is," she says to Toni. "Keep her alive till I get the word out."

*

Night falls on the fairground, and Gloria's girls are still passing the word about a special show available to well-heeled ladies and gents. It will cost $200 to get in, but the price is cheap for a live sex act that, rumor has it, will be outrageous and disgusting. This in itself sells many tickets, and when the appointed hour draws nigh, over eighty lusty voyeurs gather under the girlie tent to lose their souls and get their jollies.

No music is played, no fanfare offered as the lights go down on the crowd and come up on the little stage. A mature blonde in an evening dress comes out, looks over the audience, and shakes her head. "There should be more women here," Gloria begins. "But I guess this is a Christian town-- either that or the local ladies are putting on shows of their own! But for the dozen or so females in the crowd, let me say you must be a bunch of wild bitches! And if there are any cops in the crowd, well, I won't tell if you won't!

"Now we've got something special for you tonight, a truly hot redhead who loves to perform. So take all the pictures you like. You're paying for it, after all, so you might as well get your money's worth. As for joining in, I'll leave that up to you. If you think you've got what it takes, then come on up and strut your stuff!--All right, girls, it's time for the show to begin!"

In a mock parade, six strippers in heels and thongs appear, each holding a cord tied to something behind the curtain. After the dancers are all onstage, they slowly haul Sandy into view. Wearing only a pair of old spike heels, she's seemingly pulled in all directions, for the cords are stoutly affixed to her wrists, nipples, neck, and bush. Prompted by Gloria, she begins a naughty dance, one aided by the strippers who jerk on their lines like eager anglers anxious to set the hook.

"That's it, girls!" the Mistress of Ceremony shouts. "Make her your puppet! Let's see who can jiggle her tits the most and shake her ass the best!" The dancers fight over control of the redhead, causing her to fall but immediately jerking her back onto her feet. Her nipples are stretched like thick rubber bands, and her bush hair is nearly ripped off. But the grimace she bears is framed in joy, and she grins through it all.

"It seems to me Sandy's not trying very hard," Gloria says to the leering audience, shaking her head in feigned dismay. "If I paid $200 I'd certainly expect the fucking bitch to put out. What do you think? Should my girls punish her for being lazy?"




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 7



Eighty voices loudly cry out, "Yes! Yes! Punish the bitch!"

"You heard them, girls! It's time for some discipline!"

Hands and feet instantly fly, delivering slaps and kicks to Sandy's face, tits, and ass. Several of the dancers spit on her, and all take an evil turn at twisting her nipples. The blows sting and redden her flesh, but Sandy exults in the public punishment and begs, on her knees, for more.

"That's enough, girls," Gloria says. "We don't want to kill the whore--at least not yet! How about it, folks? Think she's had enough?"

Two women in the crowd want Sandy to suffer more, and Gloria invites them onto the stage to dish it out themselves. The ladies, both in their forties, grasp the big spigots on Sandy's jugs and tug on them fiercely. Some fluid oozes out the nipples, and Gloria urges the naughty ladies on.

"Oh, yeah!" she says. "We're getting milk here! It appears my girls need more practice! Put her on all fours and drain her like a cow!"

Sandy assumes the position herself, letting the ladies manipulate her swollen tits in a rough and vigorous manner. Her milk is collected in a beer cup, then poured into her thirsty mouth. But gulping it down with a sluttish flourish earns her several more slaps.

"Now Sandy isn't knocked up," Gloria assures the crowd. "At least not yet! So how do you think that milk got there? Well, it certainly didn't come from reading the fucking Bible! If you ask me, she activated her jugs by eating lots of female cum! And since we emptied her fucking bags, what say we fill them up again?"

The crowd is all for that, of course, and the dancers take turns rubbing their shaved cunts into Sandy's mouth. To keep the action going like a three-ring circus, some play with her pussy while others tie up her tits, making them bulge like melons and turn purple from the lack of circulation. Those in the crowd with cameras now flock to the stage to get juicy close-ups, and since some of the dancers can spurt, the amateur film makers get several money shots.

After all the girls have come, along with the two women from the audience, Gloria examines Sandy's titties to see if her theory is correct. "I think it'll take a lot more cum to get these babies pumping again," she says. "But I have an idea that might speed the process up. Care to hear what it is?"

Everyone does.

"Well, constant stimulation is the key, right? And the best way to do that is with a nice pair of rings! Sandy has never had her nipples pierced, and tits like hers deserve it! What do you think?"

"Pierce her! Pierce her!" shouts the crowd.

Toni now comes on stage to do her thing. Wearing nothing but a smile and her many body rings, she carries a long needle and two giant hoops and has Sandy kneel before her and cup her breasts. "This is only going to hurt a little," she lies to the redhead. "But if you're a good girl and don't resist, I'll let you tongue out my delicious ass!"

The offer is too good to be refused, and Sandy begs the brunette to proceed. After grasping the right nipple and stretching it taut, Toni slowly drives her needle through the thick-skinned base. Only a little blood appears, but the pain is enough to make Sandy grimace and break out in a fresh sweat.

"Tough it out, bitch!" the brunette says. "Just think about getting your sweet reward!" Once the hole has been made, Toni reams it out wide, delighting in the agony etched into Sandy's face. Finally, she inserts the bracelet-sized ring, and a series of naughty test tugs follows. Now with one tit done, Toni tackles the other. But the carny hits a snag on this one and has to apply some elbow grease to get the needle through. However, the stubborn nipple finally surrenders, and with joyous tears staining her face, Sandy is soon admiring her new jewelry.

"Now isn't that gorgeous!" Gloria says, tugging on the rings herself. "They give me so many nasty ideas! I mean, they're so big you could use them as stirrups! Do you think I should try them out?"

Since the crowd returns nothing but positive feedback, the blonde removes her dress to facilitate mounting her 'horse.' Her figure is full and sexy mature, but her legs are as lean as the strippers'. Years of dancing have kept them trim, and she still looks great in a black thong. Now sitting on the redhead's back, Gloria places her heels in the nipple hoops and yells, "Giddy up!"

Taking off as best she can, Sandy carries the blond around the stage, wincing from the heavy pressure bearing down on her breasts. Her tits are stretched so far that her stirrups grate against the floor. But the pain is soon forgotten when Gloria makes her gallop to claim her reward, and with the blonde spurring her on, Sandy starts slurping on Toni's ass.

The cameras come in close again, for anal/oral acts are quite rare. And when the men line up to take turns fucking Sandy from behind, more performers are seen on stage than remain in the audience.

"Do her deeply, boys!" Gloria says. "This slut can take all that you've got! And some of you come in Toni's ass so Sandy can lick it out!"

The men are all talented and take direction well. But the star is Toni's ex who drives his ten inches up Sandy's ass before some rube can slime her hole. Unfortunately, he also shows why Toni dumped him, for he busts his nut after a single thrust. But the other guys are still married and know how to take their time, and after a dozen loads are fired, runny sperm oozes from all of Sandy's holes. Much of it falls in puddles on the stage, but not a drop is wasted, for Gloria makes Sandy slurp it up while giving 'pony' rides to the wicked women in the crowd.

"Incredible, huh?" the blonde says to all as Sandy pleasures three cocks at once. "You can't teach a bitch to perform like this, or else I'd offer it nightly in my show! No, a whore this dirty is born to the job-- probably in a barn! Who wants to see how Sandy lost her virginity?"

A host of hands shoot up in the tent.

"All right, girls, bring out Sandy's first lover!"

The dancers lead a pony onto the stage, and everyone applauds with perverted anticipation. The animal is cute and sports a lovely mane, but it's his huge penis that thrills the naughty crowd. Nearly sixteen inches long, it makes Toni's ex seem small, and Sandy isn't the only woman who drools her appreciation.

"Okay, bitch!" Gloria says to her main attraction. "Let's see you play magician and make that beautiful cock vanish in your holes!"

Sandy, however, has a bit of flair and knows that 'please' follows 'tease.' Moreover, the scene requires a build up as every good performer knows. So instead of attacking the beast like a typical Texas whore, she strokes his mane and kisses him on the mouth, then offers her tits for a quick equine lick.

"I'm going to make you feel soooo good!" she promises the pony. "You'll never want a mare again after having me!" Rubbing her body all over his flanks, she kisses his hide repeatedly, employing her tongue most dusgustingly when she reaches his muscular ass. Only now does she kneel down to stroke his big cock in her loving hands, marveling at its thickness and its large, bulging veins.

"Shit!" Toni exclaims to Gloria. "Had I known this bitch was a fucking pro, I'd have asked for three quarters of the gate!"

"I would have given you all of it!" the wide-eyed blonde confesses.

Both watch in amazement as Sandy massages her tits with the pony's cock, rubbing it lovingly over every inch of her boobs while sliding her 'stirrups' up and down the shaft. Her overly aroused nipples, swollen fat with excitement, express their erotic sympathies by spitting out bubbles of froth. Delighted at finding herself flowing again, Sandy zealously milks her tits onto the quivering cock. Then she works the special lotion in with her tongue, beginning at the head and ending at the balls. Here she pauses to bestow a series of wet sucks on the hairy scrotal sac, as if trying to shortcut the long run that the cum must take. In the opinion of some, she apparently succeeds, for her lips grow white with sticky foam, and she licks them hungrily like a sperm-loving slut. 

Now the head receives her closest attention, and she slowly sweeps her tongue around the curving tip. The crowd cries out for her to suck it, so she drops her chin to spread her jaws wide. Taking the cock in slowly, inch by inch, she pauses often to suck when it leaks a little juice. Soon it collides with her nervous throat, but she boldly presses on, tipping her head far back to make the passage easier. 

Bit by bit the marvelous dick vanishes in her mouth. Then like a sword-swallower, she briefly claims it all, and none of the cock remains but the shaggy balls. This draws loud applause from the very impressed crowd, and Sandy deep-throats the pony several more times to show it's no fluke. Then she lies back and arches her cunt to align with her well-hung lover. It looks impossible, but the redhead has game, and after a few assertive thrusts, she's fucking him as deeply as any four-legged female.

"God!" she cries out while pumping her hips hotly. "He feels so fucking good! My pussy's going to explode! I want to take him home with me and chain him in my bedroom, so I can eat him for breakfast and fuck him for lunch! Ooooooh! Yessss!"

Like perfectly matched lovers, pony and whore come together. Though the cum spurting into Sandy's cunt can not be seen, the look of blissful agony on her face tells the crowd that it must be one hell of a load.

"Keep coming in me, big guy!" Sandy yells to the pony. "Please don't stop! Keep that sweet juice coming in buckets! Oooooh!"

The beast apparently grants her plea, for another terrific spasm wracks the redhead's body. Fiercely gripping the pony's flanks with her fleshy calves, she impales herself again and again on his wonderful dick. When fatigue overcomes her stomach muscles, she lies back, exhausted but still shuddering, drawing her knees close to her chest so the cock can completely drain into her deepest crevices. Several minutes pass before the dick slips out of her cunt. Sitting up, she cleans it with her lips, both for herself and the cameras, and without any prompts, she deep-throats her lover again to show her strong affection.

"That was fucking beautiful!" Gloria praises. "But if I were you, honey, I'd now demand a diamond!"

"I'd marry him in a second!" Sandy replies. "But I'll settle for more of his sweet cum! How about digging it out of my fucking hole and smearing it on my tongue?"

The blonde is not accustomed to taking orders, but this is one she's inclined to obey. As expected, the harvest is truly great, and every plunge of her hand nets her a big sticky glob. But feeding it to Sandy proves a dangerous job, for the redhead, in her eagerness, nearly bites off Gloria's hand.

"You filthy cum-sucking pig!" Gloria says, slapping Sandy into submission as if she were a rabid dog. "I ought to lock you in a cage with a fucking sow and exhibit you as a toilet!"

"Sounds good to me!" Sandy says with a grin. "That way I could bring home the bacon! And I could wash it down with a quart of your sweet piss!"

Of course, the crowd is gaga to see this as well, but the biggest pig on the fairgrounds has red hair and is already on stage. However, a golden shower was planned for the show anyway, and Gloria, standing like a man, empties her bladder into the redheaded urinal.

"Shit!" Toni says, adding her flow to Gloria's. "This is more fun than fucking a cheerleader with a waffle iron!"

"And how the fuck to you do that?" the blonde asks.

"You start with lots of oil!" Toni replies. "Then apply the whip!"

Sandy starts gagging, not on the piss but from laughter. For these carnival ladies are the funniest women she's ever met, especially when they wildly hose her down and douche her slimy holes with their steaming piss.

The comic relief over, it's time for Sandy to pleasure her lover again, and Gloria makes her suck the pony hard, then kneel to surrender her ass. The passage this time is more stormy, but with all hands on deck, the chore is properly done. The groans that fill the tent rival those of the haunted house, but the sound track here is real and the ride lasts much longer. After the pony comes in Sandy's butt, Gloria calls for an ATM. The redhead, tapping her knowledge of banks, responds by going from ass to mouth. Much of her lover's cum remains on his cock, and she licks it top to bottom while the cameras hum.

By now the audience is played out, and only a few remain to catch the dregs of the show. But Sandy is still going great guns, and she kneels before Gloria to kiss her feet and bare her soul.

"Make me a happy slut," she begs the blonde, "and keep me as your fucking slave! I'll go on stage for you every night! And you only have to pay me with cum!"

"I'll consider it," Gloria says, never one to jump headlong into any business transaction. "But you'll have to work your tail off--and your big lover's, as well! And the first time I hear you gripe, I'm gonna rip those rings right off your tits! Understand?"

"You'll have to service me, too!" Toni is quick to add.

"No whore can serve two mistresses," Sandy sadly replies. "But don't worry, Toni. You'll always be special to me, and I'm sure Gloria will let you play with me every day!" To show her devotion, she presses her lips against the brunette's anus and gives it a long wet kiss. Then to prove her loyalty to Gloria, she runs her tongue up the blonde's legs until her face is buried in the carny's ass. The sucking and licking sounds that follow are enough to make Toni climax.

"Now that ought to do it!"

"Huh?"

"You've been on that fucking horse for an hour!" the angry carny shouted. "You've had your fifty bucks worth, lady! Now get the fuck off!"

Carmen slid down from her slippery saddle and dashed away before the carnival jerk could notice the slime she had left behind. Her luck held out when she found that her car had not been towed, though a house burning to the ground nearby suggested that blocking the hydrant was probably not the best thing she could do. But coming to the carnival was, and she drove away smiling, thinking happy thoughts all the way home.



Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 8



Like the gray skies brooding overhead, Carmen was in a sullen mood. But her dark temperament had nothing to do with the weather. Rather, it was the start of a new semester, meaning she had to go back to work. Fall was the busiest season for her, what with her new classes and students, and the paperwork alone was enough to give her a migraine. Worse, she had been too occupied of late to indulge in her favorite hobby. Now, on the first day off from her hectic schedule, she had to attend a baby shower!

"Why did I agree to come?" she grumbled, reaching her destination. It was such a waste of time. She'd have to sit and gab with a bunch of silly females about birth signs and pink booties. Now birth marks and pink panties were something else! Had the ladies been gathering for a sensual lingerie party--but they weren't. It would be a dull, domestic affair involving punch, not wine, and silly word games instead of raw sex.

This seemed so ironic to Carmen, for women didn't get pregnant by playing Scrabble and sipping fruit juice. Rather, sex was the key, often laced with taboo acts tinged with violence, and for a baby shower to have real meaning, it should include a week-long orgy!

In this frame of mind, she knocked on the door and soon was sipping punch with several silly women while talking about Libras and booties. Determined to spice up the drab affair, the naughty professor slyly emptied a flask of vodka into the punch bowl. Within minutes, the conversation dramatically improved, ranging from swingers and witches to bus station abortions and alien abductions. Personal tales of terror were traded like favorite recipes, each woman trying hard to outdo the others and claim the story-teller's crown.

When Carmen's turn came, the lubricated ladies were ready for a truly shocking expose. But the professor begged off, saying the story she could tell was far too steamy and wicked for their conservative ears. This only increased the collective appetite, of course, and all demanded that she relate the seedy particulars at once. Carmen, after making all promise never to repeat the story to another soul, took a gulp of punch and began.

                 *

"This involved a former student of mine, a woman named Sandy. She was an older student, about my age, who was doing graduate work. Well, there's nothing odd about that. But you should know that she had two distinct personalities--one, troubled and insecure; the other, rash and bold. But her wild side was dominant, and it was impossible for her to deny it or hold it back. I talked with a friend who's a psychiatrist about this and learned that it's a terribly difficult problem to treat, for the person involved often appears possessed, and the change in personality can't be explained by science alone.

"Anyway, it was on a gloomy Tuesday evening when Sandy appeared at my office. I was staying late grading papers, and I could see that she was disturbed and upset. Moreover, her hair and clothes were filthy, and her face was scratched and bruised as if she had been in a barroom scuffle. Naturally, I invited her in and locked the door for privacy's sake. I kept a little brandy in my drawer for medicinal purposes, and I encouraged her to drink some in order to settle her nerves. When she grew calm enough to talk, I urged her to bare her soul, and the fantastic story she began to relate--perhaps I should stop here before I offend anyone."

The ladies insisted that Carmen go on.

"All right. But at least I've warned you. Well, in order to picture Sandy in your minds, let me briefly describe her. She had thick red hair and very fair skin, and her figure was quite voluptuous. Hips today are out of fashion, but Sandy was a throwback to earlier times, and she had the bust to match. Her breasts were natural D-cups, and her nips were so large that they often showed through the little tops and flimsy dresses she wore. Her legs weren't bad, though they'd never stride down a runway, and she was sensitive about her big calves and fat ankles. Though she'd never grace the cover on a magazine, her full lips and large eyes gave her a pleasant aspect, but her insecurity and poor self-esteem often made her feel ugly.

"Now when she first entered my office, her 'good girl' side was in control, but after consuming a little brandy, her darker half began to emerge. She was wearing a tight pink sweater and a black skirt much too short for her, and she went from sitting up straight with her legs pressed together to slumping back on the sofa and appearing...well, rather loose. I immediately noticed that she wasn't wearing any panties, but given our hot climate, that's simply bowing to common sense and the local fashion.

'Something incredible happened to me today,' she began, lighting a joint. 'So incredible, you probably won't believe it. So I'll come right out and tell you that I was abducted by aliens.'

I just stared at her.

'It happened while I was in the park,' she went on. 'I heard this whirring noise overhead and saw a flying saucer following me. It scared the living shit out of me, of course, so I started to run. But before I knew it, I was yanked off my feet by some kind of powerful ray that pulled me into the sky. The next thing I knew I was lying naked on a metal table with a lot of little green guys staring down at me. My arms and legs were tied so I couldn't move, but I was able to understand what they said.'

"What did they tell you?" I asked.

'That I shouldn't be frightened, because they were only conducting an experiment, and that they needed me to complete it.'

"Did they tell you what kind of experiment?"

'It was pretty obvious since they had me spread-eagled! I thought they were going to gangbang me, but instead they inserted some tubes in my pussy and watched lots of numbers flash on a screen. I guess it was a kind of X-ray device, and they wanted a peek at my private parts.'

"What did these creatures look like?"

'Well, they were basically small green humans with really big heads and eyes. Their skin looked like greasy rubber, and their mouths were tiny and didn't move when they talked. They spoke to each in a language that I couldn't understand, but to me they spoke in English with something of a French accent.'

"Go on. What happened next?"

'Well, after scanning me, they said I was a nearly perfect specimen, but that they'd have to tweak my glands a bit in order to maximize the performance of my sexual machinery. They inserted more long tubes up my snatch, and I immediately started feeling really strange! It was like an army of fire ants was making war in my belly while a swarm of African bees were stinging my tits!'

"It must have been terribly painful!"

'Not really. Actually, it felt pretty good, except I usually don't come on space ships with a bunch of aliens watching!'

"So you had an orgasm?"

'Oh, yeah! I came so hard I nearly flew off the table! The aliens liked that because it meant their 'tweaking' had gone just fine. Then they instructed me to trust my conscience and let nature take its course.'

"What did they mean by that? Was the experiment over?"

'Shit, no! It had just begun! You see, the point of the whole thing was to knock me up!'

"So was it then that the aliens had sex with you?"

'They had only pulled me up to their ship to prepare me. The guys who would be doing the job were back on earth. Can I have more brandy? I'm really thirsty.'

"Drink all you like. Now tell me about these 'guys.'"

'Well, everything happened real fast, for I found myself floating over a backyard with several big barking hounds. As I hit the ground, the dogs went after me like I was some juicy steak, but before they did any damage, a lady came out of the house and called them off. She asked me what the fuck I was doing in her yard, but before I could explain, she grabbed me by my hair and dragged me inside where a bunch of naked people were getting naughty in the living room.'

"So you found yourself at a swing party?"

'They weren't there to make quilts! There were dildos and joy toys all over the place, and they were filming themselves in action. Well, the lady who owned the house accused me of spying for the Baptists and the police and the FBI and said she was going to teach me a lesson I'd never forget. So she stripped me naked and made me kneel on the floor and suck all the guys while she took pictures. Then she ordered the men to gangbang me three at a time and--'

"Forgive me for interrupting, but did you put up a struggle?"

'If you're asking me if it was rape, well, it was, and it wasn't. I mean, I didn't go there to make a porn movie with strangers--though the aliens obviously intended for that to happen. But the fact is, the dicks felt pretty good in my holes, and I have to admit that I smiled for the cameras and even aided in the thrusting. Well, before long, my crotch was dripping long strands of gooey cum, and I figured the guys were all played out. But I forgot about the boys in the backyard!'

"You mean, you now were forced to...service the dogs?"

'All four of them. I guess it was their owner's way of making sure her lesson stuck. Besides, she wanted plenty of sick shit to blackmail me with to keep me from running to the cops. That's why she made sure my face was on camera when I started sucking and fucking her dogs. Most of them had bigger dicks than the men, and they came a lot more often, too! Shit, I'd barely swallow one load before another began spurting in my face! And the dumps I took in my pussy and ass seemed never ending!'

"You don't sound bitter about this."

'Why should I be? I mean, it wasn't the first time I had pleasured some big hairy brutes, and these guys were cute. Besides, a dick is just a dick, right? And they're all made for the same purpose, and with dogs, there's usually no worry about getting knocked up. But since the aliens had played with my sexual glands, I began to wonder if I were now fertile ground for non-human seed, and if they planned for me to deliver a litter.'

"That would certainly keep me at night! So then what happened?"

'I guess the swingers got bored with me, for the lady kicked me back outside and slammed the door. That was too bad for her, because she missed seeing me fly up into the air. This time I came down on the roof of a dorm where some college girls were partying. None saw me land, but all saw me lying in a pathetic heap as if I was exhausted from climbing onto the roof of their sorority. Now they say to beware of Greeks bearing gifts, but the warning should apply to those wearing thongs, for these bitches immediately decided to initiate me like some pledge.'

"Couldn't they tell that you were...well, a bit too mature for that?"

'Get this. They figured I was the mother of a girl they had recently rejected, and that I'd come onto their property to read them the riot act. So they decided to initiate me as they had my 'daughter.' They began by stripping me naked, spanking me hard, and taking turns sitting on my face. I kept wondering why the aliens wanted me to eat so much pussy, since going down on a girl doesn't normally get you pregnant--unless her boyfriend is watching, that is. Well, that was the case here, for all their boyfriends were watching from another dorm, and the bitches invited them over to lend a hand. I got fucked so hard by these young studs that I feared I'd never walk again! But not all of the boys wanted to bang me, so some just jacked off into my mouth. However, the girls made the rest come into rubbers, and when they held my legs above my head and stuck a funnel in my cunt, well, it was pretty obvious what they had in mind.'

"Were you resisting or assisting them at this point?"

'Neither, I guess. There wasn't much I could do one way or the other except to moan and gasp. I mean, it's hard enough to breathe when you're upside down without having someone suffocate you! These girls were clearly finance majors who wanted to work in banks, for they loved making me suffer and turn blue as they took long turns sitting on my face! But though I was groggy, my body seemed to cooperate, for I felt my cervix rapidly pumping up and down as it drained the cum pool into my baby oven. The aliens had to be responsible for this, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good. Now my usual orgasms are fairly wild, but the ones I now experienced were out of this world! It probably makes me sound like a slut, but I was kind of sorry when the cum ran out.'

"What happened next?"

'I don't remember. So much blood had rushed to my head that I was on cloud nine for awhile. When I recovered my senses, I found myself lying naked on a stone slab in some spooky place lit only by candles. At first I thought I was in a basement, but when my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that I was in a some kind of weird church that had x-rated stained glass windows. There were pictures of orgies and bondage and shit, and a giant cross was suspended above me, hanging upside down. Then I heard a bunch of people chanting and--'

"And you discovered you were with a coven of witches?"

'I guess. The aliens must have beamed me there, for I don't remember flying. Anyway, these people in black robes stood around me and started smearing blood on my body. I kept wondering if it was human or animal, because I sort of like dogs, and it would have hurt me to know that some sweet guy had been killed just for my benefit.'

"So you wanted the blood to be human?"

'Well, there are a lot of cruel people in this sick world who don't deserve to exist, and if it was one of them, I wouldn't have shed big tears. Anyway, after my boobs and belly and thighs were painted red, the people dropped their robes and began to dance. There was an equal number of men and women, and I was tempted to get up and dance with them, for the guys were nice looking and well hung, and the women were real babes. I guess the devil takes care of his own in that department. Well, I watched them whirl and spin around the altar until this cloud began forming overhead. It grew bigger and darker by the second until it totally enveloped me like a thick blanket. The dancers had stopped and were kneeling on the ground, and when I looked up, I saw this huge winged creature standing over me! He stood ten feet tall, had fire for eyes, and he sported this long scaly tail! And the piece of meat hanging between his legs must have been-'

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that Satan himself appeared?"

'It wasn't Michael Jackson. Call him anything you like, but he was the scariest dude I had ever seen, and when he rammed his huge cock into my cunt, I screamed so loud that the roof threatened to fall in! Now I've accommodated some big guys in my time, though not all of them stood on two legs. But this monster would have put a horse to shame, and the sensations he aroused in my body came straight from hell.'

"I'm surprised it didn't kill you!"

'It did. You see, I tried to keep up with him and match his thrusts, and for awhile I was doing okay. But then he started delivering these full body slams that pounded me like bread dough into the altar. I knew that I couldn't hold out much longer and thought I was safe when I felt him start to come. But his semen was so hot that it burned like fucking lava, and the heat made me cry out and give up the ghost.'

"But...you're alive."

'Only because the aliens revived me. The devil worshippers probably would have left me to rot in the road, but after dying in the service of the Prince of Darkness, I found myself flying again and back in one piece. I know it's hard to believe, but it happened! See? I've still got the bruises on my belly to prove it.'

"Not that I'm doubting you, but you could have got those from anyone. And given your predilection for raucous sex, isn't it more likely that--"

'I was there! Okay? It happened! Now if you're just going to trash my story, I'll leave! I just thought you were someone I could trust!'

"You can trust me. And I'm sorry for upsetting you. Please go on."

'Well, my next stop was at a bus station. I came down on a bench and felt like going really bad, so I went into the ladies' room. The place looked like some drug den that the police had just raided, for the mirrors were broken, the tiled floor was cracked, and the walls had more drawings and graffiti on them than could be found in the Sistine chapel. Moreover, all of the doors on the booths had been ripped off their hinges. Since it was crowded, I chose a toilet in the back to get a little privacy, but this rough-looking bitch suddenly appeared in the doorway. I told her I'd be through in a minute, but she told me to take my time because she wanted to watch. Well, I've run into a few kinky women before, and if you ignore them, they'll usually go away. But this bitch obviously intended to stay, for she came in and spread my legs to get a better view!'

"So what did you do?"

'Nothing. I mean, this woman had skull tattoos all over her arms, and I figured each counted for someone she had killed! So I just whistled and read the graffiti on the wall as if she wasn't there--but then she started kissing me. It caught me off guard, but it was no big deal, for bus stops are known hangouts for gays and ax murderers and such. Anyway, she must have thought that I liked her advances, because she pulled off my sweater and started sucking on my tits. Then after playing with my nipples, she said she wanted to see me totally naked, and if I knew what was good for me, I'd take off my fucking skirt in a hurry.'

"That must have upset you greatly!"

"Actually, I was more upset about seeing my phone number carved into the wall. It was next to a drawing of a stacked woman giving another woman head. Now I don't mind putting out for another lady, but I have more class than to advertise in a bathroom without doors on the stall." 

"I understand. But you said that the restroom was crowded. Didn't someone notice what was going on?"

'Not at first, for a lot of women were doing each other in the stalls, so I guess we just blended in. But once I got naked for this bitch, she clamped a chain to my nipples and paraded me around the bathroom, telling everyone I was her new slave, and that I was made for pleasuring women in the dirtiest ways imaginable! Now there isn't a lot that I haven't done, but I wound up learning a lot of new tricks!'

"So some of the ladies took up your mistress's offer?"

'I wouldn't call them ladies, for they were far too wicked for that! Since they all were from out of town, I guess they felt safe about letting their hair down and acting out their lewdest fantasies. Anyway, after they took turns roughly feeling me up, I was ordered to thank them on my knees and beg for more of their sweet touches. Well, one woman found a plunger and used it on my tits, and the suction was so terrific it nearly pulled them off my chest! Then another took a toilet brush and applied it to my bush, and when I winced from the stinging pain, she spanked me hard for being a cry baby. My 'mistress' then made me lie on the floor while she fucked me with a broom handle, and when I broke out in a fierce sweat, she cooled me off by sticking my head into a toilet! The other women helped by holding me down till I nearly drowned. Needless to say, I gulped a lot of yellow water.'

"While all this humiliation was going on, someone must have reported it to the authorities."

'The only authority figure who came in was the janitor. His arrival was timely, to say the least, for all the women wanted to see me pleasure a huge black cock. Well, after sucking this guy hard to his fullest length, I had to bend over the sink while he took me from behind. He kept going back and forth between my pussy and ass as if he couldn't decide which felt best. He finally said fuck it and came in my butt, which I thought was a waste of the aliens' intentions. But as his cum oozed out of my ass, it ran into my twitching twat, so I guess the guys from outer space weren't cheated after all. Anyway, I was ordered to suck his big dick clean and deep-throat him until he came in my mouth. He seemed a little flaccid, so I gunned his engine by tit-whipping his balls, and he shot his second load of cum straight into my gut.'




Carmen's Fantasies Ch. 8



"It seems to be getting quite warm in here. Would you like me to open a window?"

'Suit yourself. But with all the perverts running around, you might be inviting some unwelcome company.'

"I'll risk it all that same--Yes, that's better. Please go on."

'Well, my 'mistress' wanted to take me home with her to be her private toilet maid, but once we got outside, the wind picked up, and we got separated by a huge gust. I found myself floating again, and this time I landed in an alley dumpster. Fortunately, someone had tossed in an old mattress, because I landed pretty hard and might have been killed if not for the springs. But as I was climbing out, this old derelict was climbing in, and he pushed me back into the trash, saying, 'Finders keepers! Well, I was too tired to argue the law with him, so I let him strip me naked and molest my boobs. But for all his faults, he was really a sweet guy, for he found a bottle of wine with a few swigs left and shared the dregs with me. Well, I figured our coming together was no accident, and that I was there for a higher reason, so I kissed him several times, pulled off his pants, and started licking his greasy cock and balls. Now he obviously had some religion, because he looked up into the sky and sent a prayer to heaven. He should have sent it to the aliens, of course, but maybe they have the same god. Anyway, after getting him rock hard, I sat on his cock and began bucking my hips back and forth. We were now screwing like true lovers, sucking the spit off each other's tongue and talking dirty to each other to build our desire.'

"You seem to be playing a very active role here."

'I told you this bum was kind of sweet, and the aliens had probably arranged it, besides. So I fucked him as lovingly as I could, telling him how huge and good he felt inside me and much I wanted him to come. I even slipped a finger up his ass and said I wished another woman was there so he could watch me suck her pussy while he reamed me out with his cock. Well, from out of the blue this drag queen appears, and the bum begs her to join us. She must have been really lonely, for she scrambled into the dumpster and got naked in a flash. She wasn't much older than me, and her figure was pretty good, at least for a street lady. So I kissed her hairy armpits and legs to break the ice and show my craving, then begged her to sit on my face while my garbage guy humped my cunt. Well, I didn't have to ask her twice, for she eagerly planted her pussy on my mouth. It was hairier than mine and tasted real salty, and after touring her twat with my sucking lips, I drove my tongue into her hole to get some juice. Grabbing my ankles, she pulled back with all her strength, then loudly moaned with me as my lover assailed my gash.'

"I don't mean to interrupt, but is there any brandy left?"

'A little. I've had enough, so finish it off if you like.'

"Thanks. I will. Please go on."

'Well, I'm now in a really hot threesome, maybe the best I've ever had. My energy is sky high, and my pussy is feeling incredible, in spite of all the action it had already received. Maybe it was just the right time and place, but I'm sure that the aliens had something to do with it. Anyway, I was getting these terrific waves of pleasure with every stroke, for my lover's dick was hitting my cervix with each plunge. Now I daily practice kegels, so my cunt muscles are always strong. But they now felt like bully boys that could pop the top on a stubborn jar! Strutting my stuff like a true Texas whore, I squeezed my lover so hard that he wailed like a wolf--and came like one, too! I kept pumping him hard even though he collapsed, for I felt driven to claim all the cum from his cock. Now my lips and tongue were keeping busy, of course, eating out the drag queen till she burst in my mouth. But while sitting up and kissing to share the sweet juice, we discovered that the old fart had died.'

"You mean...you literally fucked him to death? What did you do?"

'What could I do? He was gone, and that was that, but at least he went happily. The drag queen said some kind words over his body, then went through his clothes looking for loose change. After getting dressed, she kissed me good-bye, and said to drop in again the next time I was in the neighborhood. Well, I had barely got dressed myself when I was pulled from the dumpster and hauled back into the air. It was now pretty dark, and I couldn't tell where I was going, but I came down in the back of a pickup filled with empty beer cans. I hate to think what would have happened had they been full. Anyway, the driver helped dig me out and escorted me into a bar, and we watched the strippers tease the crowd while we both downed some cold ones. But my escort was married, and his wife just happened to be in the place, and before I knew it, I was on the floor with this crazed bitch kicking my ass. She got in a good punch that knocked me out, and when I came to, I found myself on stage, naked and tied to a pole. I guess the bitch wanted to humiliate me, for after slapping me up and calling me every filthy name in the book, she went after my snatch with a beer bottle, plunging it in past the label. Then after making me lick her hairy butt, she dragged me across the bar and dumped me on the pool table, jamming the eight ball up my ass and stroking it with a cue.'

"This was happening in a public bar? And no one tried to help you?"

'It was a redneck bar, and good ol' boys tend to mind their own business. Anyway, this married bitch did a real number on me, and her girlfriends helped her out, then they made me crawl around on my hands and knees and blow every guy in the joint. Shit, I gulped so much cum that my belly started to bulge! But suddenly I began to tremble and thrash about on the floor. The bitches thought I was just acting, so they put on a show of their own by pissing in my face. Their leader pinched my nose shut to make me swallow her golden brew, and when her piss hit my stomach, it was like a bomb going off in my gut! My belly began expanding like a balloon, and in minutes I looked ten months pregnant and ready to deliver!'

"This is incredible! Please go on!"

'Well, the aliens had to be cheering, because their experiment was a resounding success! One by one, these little green guys started popping out of my gaping hole! I birthed about twenty of them in as many minutes, and they fought over my tits since my milk was flowing. They were kind of cute and looked a little like me since they had red fur around their tiny dicks and twats, and I nursed them like a good mommy till all drank their fill.'

"The people in the bar must have gone crazy seeing this!"

'Not really.  Most of the crowd was pretty drunk and just figured someone's dog was dropping her litter. Anyway, the lights suddenly went out in the bar, and when they came back on, all my babies were gone. I got the hell out of there before the married bitches could gang up on me again, and after wandering around like a zombie, I found myself near the college, so I stopped in to see if you were still here. And that's what happened to me today.'

                 *

Having finished her story, Carmen got up to refill her glass of punch. The other women were still on the floor, some moaning while masturbating, others lying perfectly still, exhausted from the rigors of hearing such a bawdy tale. But the lady of honor had broken her water and needed a lift to the hospital. Carmen was happy to play the chauffer, for she felt partially responsible and loved taking people for a ride.