0 comments/ 38665 views/ 2 favorites Wanda By: E.Z.Riter The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations where it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites. Please! Give me your comments! Dear Readers, This is humorous, I hope. E.Z. Wanda was only five two but she had DDD tits, a 23" waist and an ass to die for. Her flaming red hair came down to her shoulders. She had huge green eyes, freckles everywhere and a grin which was the thing I liked best about her. She wasn't smart, but she was sweet and very crazy about me. She could cook better than my mother and fish better than my father. She could suck the chrome off a bumper hitch and fuck two platoons of Army Rangers into surrendering to a Girl Scout troop. She was perfect. When we were dating, I carefully explained to her exactly what I expected from my wife. She'd willingly and happily agreed. She even turned down an internship at the White House to marry me. But our marriage was predicated on that agreement. "Slut! Get your fat ass in here!" "Bobby, I..." my brother. Bill, started to say. I gave him a dirty look, telling him to keep quiet. In a minute, Wanda strolled in from the bedroom, winked and went into the kitchen. She returned with three open beers, which she distributed. As she stood by my chair, I slipped my hand up her leg, letting it slide higher until my finger hit hot, naked pussy. Good. No panties. That was one of my rules. She moaned as I slipped a finger into her and flicked her clit with my thumb. She started to quiver all over as I pulled my hand away. "No, baby. Make me cum!" "Not until I get to the bottom of something. My brother told me a disturbing tale about our wedding day that really pisses me off." "Oh?" She had that slutty look on her face that I loved. "He says you fucked all my groomsman but him." She turned pale and collapsed at my feet, a beseeching expression clouding her face. "Honey, don't be mad! It's true... but I'm sorry. Please! Don't be mad! Let me tell you what happened. Oh, baby, please let me explain!" "Go ahead, slut." "I had talked to Davy Peterson and told him to bring the guys over about noon, you know, while you and Billy were at the cock fights. It seemed that would give us plenty of time. Willie showed up first, which is just as well I guess. You know, he has the smallest cock of any of your friends. You would think with him being black and all.... ... Anyways... I said, 'Willie, get your pecker out. I'm horny as hell.' Willie dropped his jeans and I shoved him on his back, pinned his arms down and slid him in me. Willie's pecker is always real hard even if it is only eight inches long. I was just smiling and enjoying it, feeling my juices ooze down around us, soaking our pubic hair. Willie has a ton of pubic hair, and its just like Brillo. Oh, I can see you boys are enjoying my story. If you take your pecker out, Bobby, I'll suck it." "Back to your story, slut!" "Anyways... my momma yelled out, 'Wanda, Warren's here.' 'Send him back, momma.' I told Willie I was going to fuck Warren now. 'Shit, Wanda, I ain't cum yet.' 'Willie,' I said, 'I'm having Warren in the one hole. You can have the two hole or the three hole.' Well, it just wasn't Warren. It was him and goofy Willard." "Wait, goddamnnit! Willard was there!" "Bobby, listen, honey, please. Just keep stroking that big pecker of yours through your pants. Let your little wife finish. Anyways... I said 'Willard, you can't put that ugly, crooked dick of yours in me, but you want to beat off you can cum on my tits.' "How about on your face, Wanda?" he asked. Bobby, he was so pathetic looking, I felt sorry for him. 'Okay. You can cum on my face but if you try to stick that thing in my mouth, I'll bite it off.' Bobby, telling this story is making me hot. Can I play with myself? You and Billy are." "Alright but keep talking, slut!." "Anyways... Willie flipped on his back, jammed me down so his cock was buried deep in my two hole and laid me back on top of him. He had those big black hands of his on my tits, just squeezing and massaging. I was starting to warm up some. Warren jumped on top, grabbed his flag pole and moved in to plant it in my pussy. 'Warren, I hate it when you're on top! Don't slobber on me!' "Me either, you moronic honky," Willie chimed in. Uhhhh. Bobby, I...oh, I'm cummmingggg!" "Talk, slut!" "Whew! That felt good! Anyways... Warren just jammed in hard as he could. Thank the lord I had been fucking Willie and was a little loose. I just lay there with my eyes closed enjoying Willie in back and Warren in front. It was real fun. Then, I felt something hot and wet on my lips. I thought that damn Warren was drooling again so I opened my eyes. It was Willard, trying to aim that crooked dick so the cum oozing out would land in my mouth. What the hell. I just yanked Willard down and sucked him dry. Honey, telling this story is making me thirsty. Can I get us some beers?" "Yeah." She was back in a flash. I opened the beer she gave me and took a slug. "Dammit, Wanda. Did you frig yourself on my beer bottle again?" "Well, it's Pearl beer and tastes like pussy juice anyway. I didn't think you'd notice." "It weren't the taste. The damn bottle almost slud out of my hand." "Be ungrateful. Do you want to hear the rest of the story?" "Go on." "Go on who?" "Go on, slut!" "That's better. Anyways... I felt Warren starting to go off. You know how he is, sounds like a donkey and fucks like one, too. He came flooding me with his hot, sweet juice. That sent Willie off and my ass hole was loaded up at the same time. Willie squirmed out from under me because Warren was slobbering again. Want me to suck your cock, honey?" "I want you to get on with the fucking story." "Anyways... Wong and Wuan came in about then. "Hot shit! Sis is in a fuckin' mood," Wuan said. I..." "Stop for a minute, Wanda. Now, tell me again how you, Willard, Willie, Warren, Wong and Wuan are related." "They're my brothers, Bobby. You know that!" "Wanda, you're obviously red Irish as Warren is. Wong's Oriental. Wuan's Hispanic. And Willie's black. Hell, I don't know what Willard is. I think he's part German Shepard and part Berkshire hog. His dick looks Berkshire, anyways. Your daddy's a tiny little Italian looking guy, six inches shorter than his shortest child. How...." "Don't you go bringing that up, Bobby. My mama's no slut. And she's real touchy about it... particularly after all them media folk talking to her about the years she worked for Clinton before he went to Washington and all." "Doesn't your Daddy ever wonder?" "Daddy's just happy to have us fine, healthy children and to have such a good wife who worked in the government up in Little Rock and all. You know she knows a lot of important people. Why, when Bill and Hil...." "Wanda, I've fucked your mother. So has Billy and my daddy." "That don't mean she's a slut!" "She's fucked more men than you have and you're a slut!" "Of course, she's fucked more men, you brainless hillbilly! She started earlier. Anyways, I like being a slut. I love being your slut, Bobby." "I love you, too, Wanda, I just don't..." "You want another beer?" "Yeah and bring me a wet towel to wipe the bottle down so I can hold on to it. ... Thanks for the beer. Now, get on with your story." "Anyways... Wong and Wuan whipped out their cocks and grabbed a hold of me, one of each leg, pulling me apart like I was the breast bone of a chicken or something. 'Make a wish!' Wuan said. 'I wish you'd stop talking and start fuckin.' Well, they did. And Willie and Warren got back in the action. I sort of lost track of things. I don't even remember when David, Donald and Dewey came in. The first I knew they were there is when I was sucking Donald's cock and he farted. Bobby, he's your damn cousin. You need to get him to a doctor. It ain't right for a man to fart that much!" "He's your cousin, too. You take the dumb sonofabitch to the doctor." "Anyways... I sort of lost track of time. I was floating there for all the fucking and sucking. The next thing I remember is Warren complaining I was so slick from all the cum all over me, he kept sliding off and couldn't keep his pecker in me. I was pretty covered. So, they sort of carried me out to the horse trough and flung me in it." "I thought you had a bath on our wedding night. It made me feel so special, you doing that for me, what with us getting married on Friday and Saturday being bath day and all." "I wanted to be special for you, Bobby. I love you." "Maybe, but, you still haven't explained why you fucked all the groomsmen except Billy. When I told you to fuck them all, Wanda, I meant all! Not all but Billy!" "Please, honey, I was saving Billy for last... you know, right before the ceremony but daddy can't see well. His glasses were broke and...." "Wanda, your mother keeps breaking his glasses so he won't see all the different men around your house. They're more strangers over there than at the county fair. I've seen your mother. If your daddy sees a black man, she says 'oh, that's Willie.' Or, if he sees a Hispanic, see says, 'oh, that's Wuan.' If your daddy had good eyesight, your home life would be a lot different." "Don't go knocking my mother, Bobby. Be respectful. Who gave you your first blow job, I mean, except for your sister? Who let you sneak in and fuck me whenever you wanted? And, when I was having my time, who let you fuck her until you couldn't crawl away? Huh? Now, you want to hear the rest of the story?" "Go ahead." "Go ahead WHO?" "Go ahead, slut!" "That's better. Anyways... Daddy couldn't see, so as I was walking in the house after my bath, he grabbed me. 'Wanda, is that you?' 'How many of your kids got big tits, daddy?' I asked, prying his hand off my boob. He slammed me up against the door and stuck his cock right in me. 'Oh, daddy, stop!' I cried. 'Honey, what's wrong? You never complained before.' 'There's a nail sticking out of this door and it is tattooing my ass with every stroke.' Well, daddy put me on the kitchen table. He was happily plowing away when my brothers and cousins showed up. Honey, I barely made it to the wedding. I just didn't have time for Billy." "Wanda, I don't like excuses. I told you to do something and you didn't do it." "I'll make it up to him. Honest I will. I would've fucked him on the alter but you know the preacher. He was horny himself and he wants to be the only one to fuck on the alter. Honey, I'm getting real horny again and I only cum three times from playing with myself since we started this talk. Will you..." "Wanda, I'm going to punish you. Go get that belt." "No, Bobby... please, oh, god, no!.... not the belt!! I love you!! Don't be cruel to me... I can't stand it!! Billy, talk sense to him!" "Get it Wanda or I'll punish you for two days straight instead of just one." "Please....Please nooo!!" "Grab her Billy! She's trying to get away. Damn! She can kick like a mule! Grab her leg! Shit! .... Thanks, Billy. Well, Wanda you put up a hell of a fight but now I'm going to put this belt on you." "Please don't. I love you so much." "Dammit, Wanda. You only have to wear this chastity belt for twenty-four hours. You ought to be able to go that long without getting a prick in you." "Bobby... you better call all your friends." "Why?" "Cause ain't nobody around here ever seen me really horny, and when this belt comes off...." The End Please! Give me your comments! Wanda Based on my marginal understanding of human psychology, an even shakier perception of the Jenkins activity survey, Wanda is definitely a Type A personality. Insatiably ambitious, a champion competitor, a seeker of recognition, she hungers to win, be victorious in all things. She values the laurels, the bonuses, the perks of merit. Her in a nutshell, but out of the office she is playful and pleasingly submissive. Away from the stresses she imposes on herself, Wanda of the boudoir, naked, ready to be guided, raunchy, explicit in her desires, purrs and pants, wants nothing but to please, to make a bedmate quiver from her giving pleasure. Wanda next to me, my member dancing in the air, she takes me in her mouth, between her legs, in her ass. My long, narrow cock with its greater surface area then something smaller and stubbier is acutely sensitive to her friction, the sensations she imparts. Some slip up, see her as nothing but artifice, a fair-haired bimbo closeted in a superbly healthy body, a spectacular bust in clinging fabric featuring yards of cleavage. Legs ornamented in filmy nylon and high heeled come fuck me pumps as an invitation for her invasion. Of course, I fall into no such trap. I see her sexual topography, all its varied shapes, angles and planes. I want in her pants just as others do, but I see more then her sexual side however impressive it may be. Her shrewd intelligence and business acumen are remarkable to behold. She loves T.S. Eliot's and Emily Dickinson's poetry, character driven, well written films, picnicking in a park, shedding her shoes, going barefoot, eating cold chicken and potato salad out of a wicker hamper. She is at once charming and assertive, clever and resourceful. Her office on the forty-third floor, one wall all shinning glass looking out on other Emerald City high rise buildings. In her workplace she plays down her sexy contours, her sexual manner and her submissive nature. She wears spectacles, big glass ovals over intensely blue eyes, just a smidgen of lipstick, eye shadow and rouge as cosmetics. Her subtle scent of perfume is not too eager, too compelling. Working in this stylish, comfortable office her flaxen hair is sometimes arranged in a ponytail or contained in a tight bun. She wears high heels, old school ones, the kind my mother wore in the sixties working in the Sam Klein's real estate office in downtown Indianapolis. I a writer living in a rustic cabin in the woods far from Emerald City; Wanda my literary agent is another man's wife. Tim, her husband, a respected tax attorney, another Type A personality, favors flashy cars and hand made Italian shoes, a titian-haired woman as a mistress. Named Stacey, she dotes on him, does what he desires, lives in the pleasurable comfort of a posh condominium he settled her in two years ago. Fiercely protective of her bisexuality, Stacey finds wickedness stepping through her body as her female lover enters a bed sold to the highest bidder, freshly vacated by Tim, and still sizzling with spent lust. Her partner laps Tim's paid out sperm, and then these Sapphic lovers fall asleep in contented bliss. Wanda, Stacey's Sapphic lover, keeps this secret from the husband yet tells me. My agent since A VIXEN'S KISS, my first book to do business before being unceremoniously tossed on the nearest discount table; Wanda sucked my cock for the first in this office nearly a year and a half ago. After she stripped from her clothes, we fucked on the sofa; I saw her unbound breasts for the first time. Breasts, if I was her child, I'd wish to suckle on until I was five or six. On the chic furniture she favors, I sucked each breast until my mouth was quite numb. My trousers tightly bound about my ankles, I must have looked foolish above her. Her mountainous bosoms still beckoning me, I gripped them firmly, bunched them about my hard member and fucked them as an adjunct pussy, then did the same to her mouth. Wanda, tough, ballsy negotiator, cell phone always at the ready, a Blackberry Pearl often palmed in her hand husbands my career, earns me much more then my middling talent should hope. My latest book, THE MURDEROUS MADAM, is doing some lucrative business, a short blast of it, before it falls off the scope. Wanda is working a deal with a producer in Hollywood, not first string, but still a player, to sell the book's movie rights. I want Gretchen Dixon, the amply busted actress with the gravelly voice to play the main character. "Good morning, Mrs. Johnson." My salutation complete, I stroll into Wanda's inner sanctum. I always feel like the cock of the walk, entering Wanda's office on these quarterly visits. Today is no different. I smell her lavender scent; her blonde hair drifts down on her back, beige pumps with three inch heels on her feet over the sheerest stockings. She is wearing her glasses, a cream colored skirt and a matching jacket with a white silk blouse underneath. Sitting well behind her desk, talking on the telephone, she is wheeling and dealing, toying with a gold Cross ink pen in her right hand. Her legs up on the desktop, feet crossed at the ankles, the skirt forming a neat line above her knees, she immediately has my attention. I doubt she is wearing panties or a brassiere. She motions for me to occupy the chair near the desk and from that vantage point I watch her talking for several long minutes before returning it to its cradle. Wanda's bag, her raison d'etre, is to pick up all the chips, win the whole pot for her clients. She does too after paring off her ten percent. "Sean, this guy in Hollywood is so close to signing." Wanda, holding up her left hand, bends her index finger, forms a miniscule gap between it and her thumb. "This close" her finger and thumb gripped close together once more. "How about we do some celebrating? Maybe open a bottle of champagne," Wanda is still leaning back in the Wingate mahogany armchair. Her desk is elaborately carved, French, a 19th century Renaissance walnut knee hole plated with a black stone top. I sit in a Louis XV Fauteuil de Bureau, a solid mahogany and golden upholstered reproduction of a mid 18th century chair with intricately hand carved legs. Two chic French vintage chairs covered in silk damask weave, a matching sofa, the one we fell on long time ago, also with the same bowed legs, sit across the room with a walnut coffee table between them. In one corner is a distinctly non French non antique chair. On retro chrome legs, a flirtatious lips pop art chair. Its velvety-plush, red fabric is eye catching; its base and back conformed into the shape of lips make me laugh. Too much French influence for my simple taste but it suits Wanda. I do love the cherry red lip shaped chair though. "Wanda, let's wait, let the guy make a firm proposal." "I can think of something we can do while waiting." Wanda smiles; swings her legs off the desk, stands, drops her glasses to the desk where they clatter. She makes no sound crossing the deep pile carpet to the office door. Outside someone is tapping on a computer's keyboard, several voices whisper in the background and I hear Wanda's secretary. Velvet Brown's nasal twang heard in the Idaho woods where I live is guaranteed to awaken hibernating bears and drive off trout. From my side of the desk, my left eye, the better one, catches a glint of her firm thighs, the back of her knees, those nicely tilted high heeled feet. I hope she is locking the door, to keep pesky staffers from blundering in, catching us flagrante delicto. Like that very thing had never happened, which it had in this very office several months ago on this very desk. She has mentioned how the stone's biting coldness seeped into naked skin, the portion of her ass not resting on the desk's green and black blotter. I remembered knocking a gold-framed picture, the black onyx globe and gold pen and clock desk set to the floor when I flung her down on that memorable occasion. In business and bed, Wanda never holds back. With such a body, I think not since her sexuality is an unalterable force of her nature. She likes to fuck and be fucked. Riding Wanda, grasping her, I am breathless. Frolicking in bed, pinning her down, pushing this and that way I often end up bruised and battered, but always wanting more. Wanda turns on her heels, in a rolling rhythm of swaying hips; she saunters back, all the while staring directly into my eyes. First, she unbuttons the overlaying jacket of her suit, then the pearl buttons of the silk blouse underneath. Top button first, the next, the others in quick succession until her breasts are clear of any intervening fabric. Her nipples erect, licking her lips, in front of me, her wide spread legs nearly touching my knees. Cradling her breasts, she looks down at me. "You missed them? They've definitely missed you." "Oh yes. Not seeing them often enough tends to give me writer's block. May I suck them?" "You sound like a sweet little boy asking for candy the way you say may I suck them? No, first, I suck your cock. I want you to come in my mouth." Wanda drops to her knees, hosiery making a protesting sound; bends forward, reaches over, unzips my trousers and hauls me out. "This is the game plan lover. I suck you off; you fill my mouth with sperm, just jolt it in there. Then we close this dreary office, walk arm and arm to the Plaza, me getting off seeing guys on the street staring, wanting to fuck me. I'll be so wet; you'll take advantage of my horny state, and give me a good hard fucking." Wanda fell on my cock, as she sucked; I writhed inside her mouth, looked toward the ceiling, and thanked the fates for crashing our orbits together. Being a literate man with artistic aspirations, I'd pen a poem feting this liberated woman. This sexy, big breasted woman loves this effort as she loves power and the profit gained from hard work physical toil or the exhaustion left in the wake of a laboring mind. Within the hour we were in the hotel bed. Serenely, sometimes silently, sometimes raucously, we enjoyed one another well past the dinner hour then dined in the room. Overpriced burgers, too crisp French Fries, cottage cheese, lemon meringue pie and of course lots of coffee. Wanda lay back propped on pillows while I ate fries off her flat stomach. She wolfed down her sandwich and fries in record time, finished her portion of cottage cheese and even consumed the bit of lettuce, as a finale, smeared lemon and meringue across my dick and sucked me. I was still munching on my burger, working on fries and pushing my cock into her mouth. Desperately Seeking Housewives, a program I've never seen or wanted to see was on the tube, its sound turned way down. The TV's meek Cyclopean radiance painting the bed and us in a mélange of light and shadow was our solitary source of light. Wanda working on me with a will; I considered the idea of a singularly erotic poem commemorating this woman, her over the top sexual ardor, how she became such a ravenous and hungry beast when being fucked, the warmth of her mouth, how passionate drawing semen into her throat, how she blew me with ice cubes in her cheeks, after gulping steaming Starbuck's Breakfast Blend prior to pouncing on me. This brought to mind, a red haired Australian woman, a nearsighted archaeological grad student, who did the same thing in a feather bed looking out on the flat calm of a sparkling blue Aegean sea. Hours spent giving and taking pleasure quickly tripped by, then finally exhausted, we slept. I awakened, my body facing her, my left hand, my writer's southpaw cupping her nearby breast. She woke; lazy-eyed from sleep and grasped my cock. "Good morning," she said in a near whisper. We made love once more before checking out and having coffee and croissants down the street near her office. Wanda WANDA was horny. She sat on her leather couch with her knees together and her feet apart, elbows on her knees. She felt the itch, it crawled up beneath the lacy tops of her stockings, circled the bare stretch of her smooth firm thighs, dove back beneath her short black skirt, rounded her ass and came forward towards her pussy and just sat there, pulsing, driving her wild. It didn't help that the skirt was so short she could feel the cool leather just where her legs met her butt, it didn't help at all. She squirmed in a most un-ladylike way. She wanted to bury her fingers in her snatch and rub and rub and rub until the itch went away, but she couldn't. She wanted to pull up her skirt and rub her bare pussy on the couch and pinch and twist her nipples until she completely melted down. No, she couldn't do that either, at least not yet, not until later. So she watched the walls in her apartment, waiting. Her boobs itched, they felt heavy in the tight bustier and her nipples ached. She still wasn't sure exactly how she'd gotten it on. Her toes hurt, they were crammed into five inch black heels she'd never worn before. The skirt was so tight she didn't think if she had worn her skimpiest thong she could have gotten it on; luckily, that wasn't a problem, she was going buff. Her blouse was white and sheer and so scandalously low-cut her boobs thrust up and out like twin planets yearning for the sun, and her nipples stuck out so far she was sure they'd be spotted from the surface of the moon. The milky string of pearls she wore were so fine and lovely she couldn't resist wearing them, twirling them between her fingers -- She'd never owned anything so obviously expensive. She felt worse than naked, she felt slutty, she felt exposed. It didn't help either that she liked it. She couldn't wait for him to see her. Where was he? She got up and tottered to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. Was he making her wait on purpose, or was he held up in traffic? It was awful being there, waiting, anticipating. She'd spent a good part of the evening getting ready to go out on the town, primping, shaving, fixing her hair, selecting her outfit to emphasize the affect she wanted to create. She had taken a long, luxurious bath and gotten out pink and wet and humid. When she was still drying her hair, her doorbell had rung, and when she had gotten into a robe and opened the door, a courier was standing there with a bunch, no an armful of roses, one large package and one small, and a pink envelope. Back inside her apartment, Wanda opened the envelope to find a note written in his large, bold hand. "Darling," it read, "I've taken the liberty of picking out the clothes I'd like you to wear tonight. There is a little gift for you, it would please me greatly if you would wear it as well. I'll be by to pick you up presently. Remember, while you're waiting for me, be a good girl." She opened the small box first, and found the pearls, a long strand of fat white globes on a string. In the large box were all the clothes she was now wearing, and nothing more. The clothes were fine, expensive, and scandalous. She'd never worn anything like them before, she'd always preferred to stay low-key, out of the notice of the roving eye, she felt safer that way. DESPITE this predilection for anonymity, he'd still picked her out one day sitting alone at table at the bistro around the corner from her office, nibbling on her veggie sandwich and reading Annie Proulx. "Hello, are you alone?" he'd asked. He had big hands, that was the first thing she saw, and powerful arms beneath his tight shirt. His dress was laid-back and informal, jeans, v-neck over a white t-shirt under a barn coat, Levi's, black leather boots, a tooled black leather belt. But the boots were immaculate, the metal inlay on his belt shined brightly silver, and his shirt was so obviously expensive it covered him with a sheen of elegance. He had an easy smile, and light brown eyes surrounded by laugh lines. His dark hair was longish, but well cut. He was tallish but not some freak of nature. It looked like he might have a nice ass. All in all, she thought, he looked well put together. Like he went to the gym, but didn't obsess over it. "Yes, but I wouldn't mind some company." Just like that, she had said it. The perfect thing, in just the right tone, and he had sat down, and she had felt like standing outside of herself and shouting "YESSSSS!" They had had a lovely time, with light conversation and just the right level of veiled sexual tension that she thought things-might-just-work-out. When she asked him what he did for a living, he had said he did something with money that gave her the impression that he managed to skim off a good portion for himself. He was polite, charming. She was flirtatious. After half an hour or so, they had exchanged phone numbers, and as she had watched him walk whistling away she observed that, yes, indeed, his ass filled out those Levi's very well, thank you very much. They'd gone out a couple of times after that, he drinking beer and she sipping white wine, he'd introduced her to his dashing men friends and their pretty wives and girlfriends, she'd laughed at all his jokes, made no gaffes. It was clear from the look in his eyes and the courtly way he treated her that he thought she was – something, maybe something special. She thought he was just great. And he'd never done more than kiss her and give her a good, healthy squeeze at the end of the night. She'd hinted that she was ready for more, twisting a finger into her hair, holding his gaze just a little longer, lightly pressing her body into his at various times in the night, just to let him know, "Hey, we can go a little farther now... I won't mind." But, after the decent interval after the first few dates when she'd invited him in, he'd laughed telling her, "Not yet dear, we barely know each other." And then, each time, he'd said the most curious thing, "Be a good girl for me." The last time, though, his goodnight kiss had been especially fervent, as if he'd been searching for something in her. She'd done her best to respond, and she'd ground her crotch into his for what seemed like forever, and she'd felt him respond (and boy, did he respond!!), but instead of coming in, he'd just smiled an especially wide grin, taken a deep breath, kissed the end of her nose, and told her he'd be in touch, but as always, to be a good girl until then. She'd walked inside her apartment, closed the door and leaned back and shook for a full five minutes. Within ten minutes more, she had gotten herself under the cool covers of her bed. She wondered what he meant by being a good girl. She smiled, rubbing her tummy and thinking about his jawline, the shape of his ears, how she imagined his thighs were shaped beneath his pants. "Do you want me to be a good girl?" she whispered. Her other hand stroked a breast idly, then became more insistent as they sought her nipple. One finger circled the areola, gently at first and then stronger. The thumb joined the finger and lightly pinched her nipple. She sighed as she thought of him kissing it, then using his white teeth and biting, and she in turn pinched harder. "Show me how to be your good girl..." As she imagined his big hands on her body, his mouth and his tongue abandoning her breast and suckling their way down her flat tummy, she stroked herself with her own small soft hands. She reached down between her legs and lightly brushed her bare pussy, feeling the heat that radiated from her sex. "I want to be your good girl, your best girl..." Her pussy was soaking. At first, she stroked everything but her most secret center, saving this for later, first with one hand while she alternated between stroking her hips and her tummy and her breasts with the other, then she switched hands. In her mind it was his hands, his mouth that were caressing her. She allowed a finger to brush against the the slippery pink folds, then, finally, oh so lightly she touched her most intimate self, and she shivered. "Uuuuummmmmmmmmm" she groaned. Again and again, closer and closer to that one spot the finger delved, until she couldn't stand it anymore, she brought the other hand to bear on her cunny and put the other to her mouth, sucking in the musty finger and imagining it was he that was offering her the sharp taste of herself. "Is this what good girls do darling?" she husked... Now she was close. She used both hands, one for stroking, with the other she penetrated her own pussy, slowly at first, then faster and harder. She crammed two fingers in. She felt her hips moving, the world was shifting and turning and she knew it was his thick cock in her pussy. "Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me" she whispered to her phantom lover. She slammed away at her hole, finally stroking her clit, harder and harder and more insistent with herself, her hips bucking and her teeth bared and then the wave broke and she was aching and at the same time released and then another wave and damn another one again! And all she could think was that she wanted to be a good girl and feel him come and come and come inside of her, all over her, on her face and her breasts and her tummy and her ass and like his whore she wanted to bathe forever in endless coils of his nasty ropy smelly white cum. Content, she'd curled up between her sheets and slept. AND THEN, SHE'D HEARD NOTHING for three weeks. Not a call, not a note, no email, nothing. Not a single word. At first, it hadn't bothered her. He needed some space, he was a guy, after all, and all guys have a tendency to flake out a little just when things could start getting serious, and it wasn't like she hadn't signaled that, if that was what he'd wanted, it'd be all right with her. But, as the day's passed, she kept getting a gnawing feeling that she'd done something wrong. Had she been too insistent? Had she said something, in a tipsy moment, that may have offended him or one of his friends? She'd racked her brains, searching for something that she could apologize for, found nothing. She'd not gotten actually drunk with him, not even close. She couldn't think of any conversation, except for sexy banter between just they two, that was in the slightest bit off-color, non-p.c, or even mildly offensive. She'd even managed to tone down the tendency to snort in the tiniest way when she laughed too hard... No, there was nothing, she'd behaved absolutely perfectly. Then what was it? Slowly, it dawned on her. She'd masturbated! That must have been what he meant by being a "good girl." But how had he known – why, he must have stood outside, his ear to the door, and listened! Or outside, just under her apartment window on the landing. She knew that he would have heard, her slimy next door neighbor had even commented about the "animalistic noises" that had come from her side of the wall that night while she was in the throes of her passion. Drat, drat and double drat she thought, how could she have? "I've screwed it all up. Completely. Now he knows I'm just another slut." Then, finally, last night, he'd called her and invited her out for a night on the town, a special night. Was she game? "Of course, I'd love it!" she'd crowed, in a tone meant to convey she'd been too busy this whole time to wonder why he'd not called. She never let on that she'd been crawling the walls wondering why he'd not called. Scared to death to call him more than once a week, she'd done so once the first Tuesday after their last date and once again the next Thursday, and then last week she hadn't called at all, hoping not to sound clingy or needy or pushy or any of the other fifty thousand things that apparently drove men crazy about women. And, of course, she'd quit masturbating, something that she'd never held back from before. So now, now she sat on her leatherette couch and stared at the wall, sipped her wine, tapped her feet and just itched. Wanda - A Surprise Visitor I was sitting on the couch when Wanda let herself into my house. She knew I was home as I'd heard her open my garage door with the remote and she'd seen my car parked in there. I was almost ready to call it a night, as it was getting late, so I hoped she was here to spend the night with me. Wanda and I have had a relationship for several years. She's a single mom, and I'm a single guy. Whenever we can arrange it, we get together for some very hot times. One thing about Wanda is that she is a very submissive woman. She's a corporate executive by day, but loves to turn her body over to me at night. I was hoping she had come over to let me enjoy using her once again. She was dressed in a pair of black shorts showing off her shapely legs, sandals, a dark red shirt that was tied above her midriff with most of the buttons undone and obviously no bra, and her blond hair piled up and tied behind her head with a hair clip. She's got small but beautifully shaped tits, works out at the gym to keep her 45 year old figure in excellent shape, and loves to let me keep her pussy shaved. Her skin is so pale that the veins and arteries across her body are easy to spot. She has only a few freckles, otherwise her skin is alabaster white and it is almost impossible for her to tan, she simply burns if exposed to the sun. Wanda walked over to me and sat down in my lap putting her arms around me and bringing her head down to mine. We kissed, and then she broke it off and moved her mouth to my ear. She whispered "I think I was raped today, do you want to hear about it?" Now Wanda has always had rape fantasies, and in fact when she was married her husband held her down while a friend of his fucked her. She hadn't really wanted to fuck the friend, but they were all sharing a motel room on a motorcycle trip and in the morning after her husband fucked her while the friend was sleeping in the next bed (he woke up during their activities) he climbed off of her and offered her to his buddy. When Wanda started to object he held her arms above her head while his buddy climbed onto the bed and pulled her legs apart. Then he fucked her as her husband looked down into her face with a grin and the words "You'll fuck whenever I tell you to with anyone I tell you to .... willing or not." They continued to share her for the remaining two days of the trip, though Wanda didn't fight it after the first time. She always would get very turned on whenever she would tell me about this, and admitted that she found, for whatever reason, the idea of being raped as something that really turned her on. So here she is telling me she "may" have been raped. I had to hear this story!! We both got naked (she seemed to be shy tonight as she wanted the room dark as she undressed) and climbed into my bed, where she wanted me to hold her while she started the story. She promised if I got too excited her mouth would stop talking and start sucking, so I had no objection to that. She told me she wanted to tell the whole story (with however many inturruptions were required to blow me), then it would be up to me as to what we did after that. I could make my choice about how I wanted to take her after I'd heard all the details. This is what she told me: "Linda (her teenage daughter) had gone to school this morning and was going over to her friend Gretchen's house for a birthday and slumber party tonight, so I knew I'd have the house to myself when I got off work. In fact I was going to call you when I got home so we could make plans for tonight ... but that didn't quite work out. I pulled into my garage and walked into the house and was heading down the hall to my bedroom to change out of my work clothes when a man, a black man, appeared out of my spare bedroom right in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks in surprise. We simply stood there for a few seconds looking at each other. He was wearing one of those caps over his head that look like they're made from nylons, a football shirt that hung almost to his knees, and what looked like runner's warmup pants and running shoes. He looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. He didn't appear to have a weapon, though I found out later he had a knife hidden on him. After a second or two, he started to smile. Not a smile of friendship, but a look of anticipation of good things ahead. At that moment I had several thoughts running through my head. One was a question, could this have been set up by you as a way to deliver on a fantasy of mine? I realized that while possible, it seemed unlikely. When I'm done with the story, I'm going to ask you if you did set it up, but until then I don't want to know. Another thought running through my mind was what a girlfriend told me a long time ago "If rape is inevitable, you might as well enjoy it." Finally, I thought about how excited you got the time I described a rape fantasy in which I stripped in front of the man without his asking or telling me to. So, I put my briefcase down on the floor and peeled my suit jacket off and dropped it to the floor. I was looking this man in the eyes as I slowly brought my hand up to the collar of my blouse and slowly undid each button down to my waist. I could see his eyes watching my hand undo my blouse, and the grin on his face seemed to get bigger. I undid the buttons on the cuffs, and then slowly pealed off my blouse and dropped it too. He was looking at my bra, it was one of those red lace ones you got me at the lingerie store that hooks in front. He could see my nipples through the material, and I knew they were standing out as my pussy was already getting very slippery as I thought about what I was doing and what was to come. I knew he was going to fuck me, and somehow I knew that what I was doing was sending him a clear signal that it would be alright for him to use me. I wanted him to use me, I didn't want it to be totally consensual, but I also wanted him to know that he could enjoy himself with me. Knowing he would use me was what was making me so excited. I undid the bra, and slowly shook it off by leaning back slightly and letting it fall to the floor which caused my tits to stand out. I was down to my skirt, shoes, pantyhose and the matching lace panties to the bra. He literally licked his lips at that moment, I don't think he even knew he'd done it. He was staring at my tits, and still neither of us had said a word. I bent down and slipped my shoes off, then I reached under my skirt and pulled my panty hose off. It took a little hopping around to get them off, but I thought it would be sexier when I dropped the skirt to be left in just my red lace panties. I looked at him again, and he smiled at me this time, a knowing smile that told me he was definately enjoying this. I was getting so wet standing in front of him and knowing he could see how hard my nipples were. I reached down and back and unzippered and unbuttoned the skirt. As soon as I did this, it fell to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my panties. He was staring at my panties now, and licked his lips again. I was pretty sure he could tell I was shaved, and he may have seen how wet I was as the panties were definately getting soaked from all the juices flowing from my pussy. I reached down and slowly lowered the panties down my thighs until they got low enough that I could let them go and they fell to my feet. I stood back up straight so he could get a good look at my naked body. It made me even wetter as he looked over my naked body. Then stepping out of the panties I stepped toward him and said in a low voice "I know what you want, and you can have me, just please don't hurt me or beat me." Then I slowly put my arms in the air, stepped close to him, and put my arms around him to hold him close. Then I leaned into him and kissed him on the ear and said in a whisper "You're not the type to hurt a woman that's doing what you want, are you?" For the first time he spoke, quietly, into my ear and said, "If you do as you're told, then no I won't whup ya or nuthin, but if you don't cooperate then I will do whatever it takes to get what I want." I knew he understood then how submissive I am. I kissed his ear again, and then licked it as sensuously as I could. I knew he'd like that, and hoped that he would take that as a sign that I would do what he wanted. "What do you want?" I asked him. "I want that mouth of yours wrapped around my cock and I want you looking at me as ya suck me, and you're gonna swallow everything I give ya." Without waiting for my reply, he reached up and peeled my arms from around him and then turned me and walked me down the hall to the living room. He was holding my arms as if to make sure I wasn't going to try and run. But once we were in the living room he let me go and told me to kneel on the floor facing the sofa. I did that and he sat down on the sofa in front of me. He peeled his shirt off and threw it on the end of the sofa. Then he reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair at the top of my head and pulled me closer to him. I had to knee walk until I was kneeling between his spread legs. Then he raised his ass off the sofa and told me to take off his pants. My eyes were starting to water as his grip in my hair felt like he was pulling out a handful of hair, but I reached out and pulled his underwear and track pants down as far as I could, but I couldn't get them off completely because I was between his knees. "That's good for now, time to put that mouth of yours to work." Using my hair he pulled my head down toward his cock. It was what I would call average in length, but I'd never been with a black man before and was fascinated by the color of his cock. While I love giving head, I was pretty sure this was going to be a rough session the way he was using my hair. He pulled my face to his cock and said "Why don't you start by licking it all over just like ya did my ear." I put my tongue out and he guided my head so my tongue started at the base of his cock and ran up to the head. "Kiss the head each time you're there." I did and he pulled my head so that I was kissing where his precum was oozing out. He pulled my head back so that there was a string of precum caught between my lips and his cockhead. "Lick ya lips." he told me. He laughed when I did. Actually more of a giggle than a laugh, he seemed to like watching me like this. I have to tell you I was getting pretty hot doing this. You know I like it when a man controls me, and this guy was definately in control. Also, his crotch had that odor of sex and sweat that also makes me hot. It wasn't that he was dirty, he'd probably showered that morning, it was just that masculine odor that I so love. Two or three more times he made me kiss the head and lick the precum from my lips. Then he directed me back to licking his cock. I must have licked it all over at least three times and kissed the head a dozen times when he pushed my head away, let go of my hair, and stood up to peel his pants and underwear off completely. It was then I saw he had a knife in a sheath strapped to his lower leg. No wonder he hadn't seemed too concerned for his own safety when we'd met in the hallway. It also made me more aware of the fact that I needed to do whatever he told me to. He sat back down and grabbed a handful of my hair again. "Time to give my balls a little luvin." He pulled my face down deep into his crotch. I licked as best I could but I kept getting his hairs in my mouth and when I tried to pick one out with my fingers he jerked my head up and said "I told ya to swallow anything I give ya ... do that again and I'll tie your hands." My pussy got even wetter at those words. I think I wanted him to tie me up ... it would make me feel even less in control of what was happening. I continued to lick him, but my hand moved up to my mouth again when a hair stuck in my throat. He jumped up and dragged me to my feet by my hair. I was crying "Ouch, Ouch, Ouch." As he did this but he just told me "Shut the fuck up." and proceeded to drag me down the hallway were we'd first met. He picked up my pantyhose and panties while still holding onto my hair. Then he walked me into my bedroom and after looking around for a few seconds, over and into my walk-in closet. He went over to the rack where I keep my belts, and was taking a leather one off its hook when he spotted the riding crop that you have enjoyed using on me so many times before. "Shit babe, you are one nasty lady keeping stuff like this around, we're really gonna have some fun today." Then he pulled the crop off the rack. I pleaded with him not to use it on me. He kinda giggled again and said that so long as I did what I was told, everything would be fine. Marching me back into the bedroom he walked me to the bed and used my hair to force me to bend over the bed. He threw the crop and panties on the bed next to me, let go of my hair, and then he took my panty hose and tied my hands together behind my back with them. If it was even possible, my pussy got even wetter when he did this, you know how excited I get when you tie me up, this was even hotter that he was doing it. I don't know why, I should have been scared, but instead my pussy was drenched with my fluids, I'm certain I left a wet spot on the bedspread. He told me "Kneel on the floor facing the bed." I tried to do that without my hands, and as I got to my knees he grabbed my hair and told me to get my tongue out again. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my face into his crotch and set me to licking his balls again. This time I only ended up with a couple of his pubic hairs in my mouth, and swallowed them as he'd told me. Ever tried swallowing while licking? Can't be done ... I had to stop each time I swallowed. Then he did something I certainly wasn't expecting, and something that I'd never even thought about before. Pulling his legs onto the bed so that his feet were flat on the bed and his legs spread wide, he leaned back and told me to lick his ass!!!! He pulled my face between his cheeks but I pulled my tongue back and closed my mouth. I had never done this before, and I didn't want to do this. He pulled my head backwards so he could look me in the face. Then he told me "Your choice, lick me or I take the whip to your ass and in the end you're gonna lick me anyways." I stared at him for a few seconds, then he said "Put your tongue out." I kept my mouth closed. He sat up and dragged me up onto the bed so my legs were hanging over the side leaving my ass totally exposed. He grabbed the crop with his free hand and standing up, let me have a powerful whack across my ass. I opened my mouth to scream because my ass was on fire from the one blow, but as soon as I opened up, I realized he had dropped the crop back on the bed and had my panties balled up in his hand. He reached around my head and began stuffing the panties in my mouth. That was the first time I actually felt fear for my safety. I was afraid I might choke or be unable to breath but fortunately those lace panties don't have much material in them, so they didn't even really fill my mouth. I was still wet, but fear was starting to creap over me. "Nod your head when you're ready to lick what I tell ya to lick." he said. Then the second blow of the crop came down on my ass. I swear the second blow was harder than the first, but something about being held down by my hair, hands tied, and a man taking a whip to me was causing my pussy to gush onto the bedspread. I did see the wetness when he finally stopped and let me up. I'm not sure how many times he hit me. Probably about 15 times, I couldn't keep count. I knew I had to give in when he hit me with a particularly hard blow that was delivered low enough across my ass to catch the edge of my pussy. The stinging pain from that was unbelievable. I nodded my head as hard as I could against his hand in my hair. He stopped for a moment, seemed to gather his breath, then said "I think you need five more just to make sure that you're gonna do what your told." That scared me, so I tried to turn over to see him and show him that I would do what he wanted, but that was a mistake. As soon as I had rolled over, I looked into his eyes and tried to say through the panties that I would cooperate. I was still trying to nod to give him the message. Suddenly a deep smile crossed his face He raised the crop and said "I think the last 5 on your tits are a great idea." and brought the crop down in one swift blow. I screamed so hard that I almost blew the now soaking panties out of my mouth. I have never felt pain like that before. But if my hands hadn't been tied behind me, I would have been instantly playing with my pussy, I suddenly felt so close to an orgasm that I knew that just the slightest touch on my pussy would set me off. Remember that time you put the clothespin around my clit and then licked me until I had that tremendous "pain" orgasm?? That was kinda the way this felt, somehow the pain was driving me higher and higher toward an orgasm. He hit me numerous times on my tits, I wasn't counting and I don't think he was either. I would guess it was probably more like ten or twelve times before he stopped again. Now you know why I wanted to undress tonight in the dark, I didn't want you to see the welts, and they are very obvious, on either my ass or tits. If you fuck me tonight, and I suspect you will, I know it's gonna hurt, but then you like that don't you. I suspect by tomorrow I'm gonna have some bad bruises, but tonight you can run your hands across my body and feel the welts." I did just that, I could hear her sharp intake of breath when I first ran my hands across one of her breasts, I could feel the raised welts, and her body seemed to radiate heat from the raised areas of skin. Wanda continued, "I was so turned on I was dying for the chance to orgasm, but next thing I knew I was back on my knees, and after he pulled the panties from my mouth he drove my face back into his ass with a hand in my hair again. I licked for all I was worth. He moved my face up and down his crack, and after several minutes said "Now get your tongue in my asshole." He pulled my mouth to his anus. It took me only a split second to decide that the still fiery welts across my tits and ass were all the incentive I needed to do this. So I did. I tried my best to get my tongue in him, but by this time I'd been licking for quite a while and my tongue muscles were pretty tired. Fortunately he seemed to be happy with my attempts because after only a few seconds he pulled my head back, sat up, and pulled my head back to his cock. I new he wanted me to suck him and I was happy to let my tongue get a little rest, so I went down on him with a vengeance. Deep as I could take him, I wasn't meeting his needs, because after a few strokes, he said "Take it deeper down your throat." He drove my head down using my hair again. I almost threw up the first time he slammed his cockhead literally down my throat. I was spewing saliva from my nose and mouth and choking on his cock. He pulled my head back and looking me in the eye said "We need another session with the whip to teach you how to do this right." He was about to get up when I yanked my head forward and dove back down on his cock. I took him down until my nose was hard against his stomach. I practically had part of his ball sack in my mouth. "That be better." he said, and actually let my hair go. He leaned back and watched me as I sucked him deep. I kept taking him into my throat and after just a couple of minutes his eyes were closed and I could tell from his cock that he was close to coming. I wanted him to come in my mouth, but I also wanted him to fuck me, my pussy was on fire and it needed a cock NOW!! Wanda - A Surprise Visitor Suddenly he grabbed my hair again and held my head so his cockhead was just inside my mouth, and with a deep groan he came. I swallowed everything he gave me, and then I remembered what you'd taught me. Your order that whenever a man comes in me, no matter where or under what circumstances, I'm to make sure his cock is clean by sucking and licking up everything. So I did, I carefully tongue bathed his cock and balls, and I could tell he liked it. After about a minute or two I'd cleaned the saliva and other fluids from him. He smiled at me as I finished up and said "You cleanin me baby?" I looked at him and said "That's what I'm trained to do, I clean a man after he fucks me, whether he fucks my mouth or my pussy." "You gonna clean me if I fuck your ass too." he said. I couldn't tell if it was a statement or a question, but it didn't really matter, I knew that's what I'd do, so I just nodded to him. "Shit you a nasty slut to do that, I think we be tryin that later, but for now my cock need a little rest, so why don't you come up here and we talk for a few minutes." I slid onto the bed and asked him to untie my hands as they were starting to go numb. He had to get scissors from the bathroom and cut them off. My tits and ass were still in pain, though it was settling down to more of a throb than the fire it had started as. He wanted to know if I'd ever been with a black guy before. I told him I'd had a couple of dates with black men, but never anything physical. He slapped his thigh and said "So I be the first black guy to fuck ya?" I told him yes. He asked if I'd ever sucked a black guy before, and I told him he was my first. He wanted to know if I liked it, and I asked if he meant giving head, or him in particular. He laughed and said "Let's start with blow jobs, you like giving them?" and I told him that I did. He asked if I got turned on giving head, and I said that I did. So of course he wanted to know if I was turned on by giving him head, and I had to say that it really turned me on to suck his cock, that I liked the taste of his cum. He asked if I was turned on right now, and as I hesitated to answer, he reached over and ran a finger up the slit of my pussy. It came away dripping wet. When his finger stroked across my clit, I groaned, and that seemed to delight him. "You wanna play with yourself?" he asked. "Oh yes, but I couldn't do it in front of you." I told him. He reached over and in a lightning fast move grabbed my hair with one hand and the crop with the other. My pussy gushed as I realized that maybe I would get what I wanted, a pain orgasm. I obediently and instantly lay face down on the bed and put my hands between my legs. As the first blow came down on my ass I knew I would only need seconds before I exploded. He hit me a second time and I was so close, as he pulled his arm back for the third blow I rolled over face up so he could see my fingers buried in my pussy and sliding around my clit. He was looking at me with his arm still raised when the orgasm hit. I bucked and moaned and started to writhe on the bed when he brought the whip down on my tits. It was a vicious blow, I found later it bled slightly all along the welt, but it was like an atom bomb had gone off inside me. I literally rolled off the bed and fell to the floor in the throws of my orgasm. I must have laid there several minutes with my fingers stuffed in my throbbing pussy before I realized I was on the floor. I slowly got up and looked at the man on the bed. He was still holding the riding crop, and I was afraid he was starting to like using it a little too much. I crawled across the bed on my hands and knees and took his cock into my mouth. As soon as I started sucking him I could feel him start to harden again. Once he was fully erect I kept sucking hoping that I could get him off for a second time. I really wanted to taste him again, but also he probably would be less inclined to want my ass or pussy after a second cum. But after a short while he had other ideas. "Get that ass of yours on the bed, I want you on your back, legs spread as wide as you can get 'em, 'cause I want you to watch this black cock sliding into your cunt." My ass hurt like hell as I lay down, and I knew it was gonna be worse once he was on me. Sure enough, as he crawled up between my spread legs, he smiled and said "I bet yo ass gonna hurt while I'm riding you, but that's tough, slut, I'm gonna enjoy being you first niggah." Cock in hand he positioned himself between my legs and then lowered his cock to my pussy. "Tell me again, this yo first black cock?" "Yes" I hissed. He was sliding his cock head up and down my slit, and it was getting wet because my pussy was once again hot and looking for action. I didn't really want him to fuck me, but my pussy was saying otherwise. "Yo pussy want my cock don't it?" "I don't have any choice, I'm doing what you want." "Yo pussy say you be lying, you need me to whip you for lying?" "NO, please, I'll tell you, my pussy is very wet because I want your cock to fuck me." At that he slid the head in me. It felt like every other cock that's been there. I love a cock in me, and this one was just as good as any other. He kept pushing into me until he had settled his weight on me. So far my ass was doing OK, but that didn't last long. He started thrusting, bringing his weight down hard on my hips, causing my ass to slide a little each time on the bedspread, and quickly setting the welts on fire again. On top of that, he had each of my tits in his hands and was mauling them as he stroked into me. He started taking the nipples between his fingers and squeezing them hard. Then he said to me "Look down at your pussy, what do you see?" I looked and could see his cock as it came out of me and then slid back in. I wasn't sure what he wanted to hear so I said "I see your black cock fucking me." He smiled at that. He was working up a sweat, and looking down at me said "Lick the sweat off my chest you slut." I'd never found sweat to be a turn on, but somehow the way it made me feel as I tried to get my tongue to his chest area really did add to my inner fire. I had to settle for licking around his shoulders and neck, and then he asked me "This be your last black fucking?" I told him I didn't know, especially as I didn't know how many times he was going to fuck me today. He laughed. Then he concentrated on fucking me. I guess because of the blow job a short while ago, he had stamina. It felt like he fucked me for an hour. He was taking his time, sometimes even stopping, just enjoying the feeling of his cock deep in my tight pussy. I came twice while he fucked me. The first time was small, but the second one was driven again by the fire in my ass and tits. When I started to orgasm the second time he seemed to understand what I needed to drive me to a higher level. He took a nipple in between his fingers of one hand, and with his other hand he reached down between us and took my clit between his thumb and forefinger. As the first wave of the orgasm rolled through me my back arched and I started to let out a deep moan. As the second wave started through me he crushed my nipple and clit between his fingers. I screamed. My body reacted to the pain by trying to roll into a ball. But all it actually did was cause me to wrap my legs around his body pulling him into me, and my arms went around his neck and pulled him tightly to me. After that second orgasm I was his. I kissed him and continued to keep my arms and legs wrapped around his body. He didn't kiss me with his mouth, he just used my hair to guide my kisses around his face and neck. After a while longer I could feel his pace pick up. He started to drive his cock deep as he could into me. Suddenly he came with a bellowing roar, driving his cock as deep into me as he could and holding it there until I could feel it begin to soften. As he rolled off of me, I thought about having told him I was trained to clean a cock after it fucked me, and whether he'd remember that. He did, as soon as he was on his back he grabbed my hair and hauled my face to his now deflated cock. "You know what to do bitch, and the whip here will be used if I find any of your pussy juice or my cum on me when you're done." I must have spent ten minutes cleaning his cock and balls, and he put his legs in the air and had me lick his ass crack again a couple of times. I was exhausted when I was done. My tits and ass were still burning, and my nipples felt like they'd been crushed in a vice. Thankfully he hadn't found the toy drawer with the nipple clamps, clothes pins, and other items you like to use on me. My pussy had a nice glow to it though, as it enjoys a cock in it everytime I fuck one. He climbed off the bed and left the room for a minute. When he returned he had his clothes in hand and started dressing. When he had everything back on he came over to the bed where I was lying on my side still naked. He slapped my ass with his hand, and said "Listen up bitch, I came here today ta rob this place. I wasn't looking for no pussy. But you sure provided me one good time, so I'm gonna just leave after I take whatever cash you got in your wallet. Get yo ass off the bed and show me where the money be." I walked with him out to the kitchen where I'd put my purse down, got out my wallet, and gave him all my cash, probably about 150 dollars. He stuffed it in his pants and grabbing my hair walked me back into the bedroom. There he pulled the soft terrycloth belt from my dressing gown that hangs on the bathroom door and proceeded to get me to lie on the bed, face up, and then he tied my hands over my head to the headboard. "I figure it'll take you ten or so minutes to work out of that, so I'll be gone long before you call anyone about this." He told me. I told him that if he simply took the cash and left now, I wouldn't report what happened as I knew the chances of him being caught were slim, and I didn't want the attention of being a rape victim. "That be smart," he said, "and ya never know, maybe I'll come visit ya again some time, yo definately a nasty ho who needs lots of cock, and maybe some other shit too." and with that he picked up the crop and hefted it in his hands. He had that nasty look in his eyes that told me I was gonna be hurt again. "Here's one last shot to remember me by." He said. I begged, but I knew from the look in his eyes that if I really pushed it, he'd probably give me several blows, and I knew my tits were already very sensitive. He raised his arm and I thought I was going to get another lash on my tits. Suddenly he turned slightly, and lowered the crop slowly until it was laying across my stomach. Then he turned it further and I felt the tip of it slide along the lips of my pussy. It never dawned on me that he was measuring the distance so that the head of the crop would strike my pussy. He swiftly lifted his arm and brought it down in one brutal stroke. I know I screamed, but I don't remember much for a couple of minutes. I was almost nauseous from the shock and pain. I had curled up my body and was on my side with my hands still tied to the headboard when I realized he was gone. I slowly worked the belt off using my teeth to help open the knots. My body was on fire ... my pussy was throbbing from being fucked, my ass and tits were on fire from the riding crop, and my clit was also throbbing from the blow he'd given me there. I knew I had to either play with myself, or come over here and let you enjoy my body. It wasn't a difficult choice. I threw on the clothes I came over here in, and after checking the house and finding that it was the den window that my daughter must have left open, I locked up and came straight over here. So, did you like my story and what do you want from me now?" WOW ... by this time my cock was iron hard, and I wanted to use her, to make her hurt, to hear her moan. I asked her "So if he'd fucked your ass, would you have cleaned his cock with your mouth like I've told you to?" "Of course," she replied, "or he would have used the crop on me again." But I could sense the smile on her face as she said that. I reached over the side of my bed, retrieved my crop from the floor and said; "Get on your hands and knees because you're about to get a vicious ass beating, and then a good ass fucking." THE END (for now) Wanda and Me I remember the first time we actually met. We had been 'cyber friends' for a while, chatting to each other, and often our conversations got quite hot and sexy. Living several hundreds of kilometers apart meant that meeting up was somewhat of a logistical challenge, but as we grew to know each other better we both felt the urge to meet 'in the flesh' so to speak. I had to go to the main city on business and decided to travel by car instead of flying, although the journey takes about seven hours. The trip does, however, take me through the town where Wanda lives and so I told her, in our chat session, that I could meet her finally after all these months. Not being familiar with the town we decided to meet a short distance out of town in one of those road side parking areas where a weary traveler can rest a while. That way she could guide me to her place without the risk of me getting lost. I arrived at the rendezvous feeling rather nervous and saw her vehicle was already parked towards the back of the area, away from the road. Since we'd only traded photos of ourselves, I was unsure of what to expect, but I parked near her vehicle and walked over to it. She opened the passenger side door and I saw her face, a big smile greeting me, and I knew it was going to be alright. Wanda looks lovely. We are both just over the crest of the big '50' and so neither of us has that youthful athletic look anymore, but we both still look young for our age. She has blonde hair, cut short and a cheerful face. I jumped in the passenger seat and she held her arms out for a hug, saying, "Hello Roger. It is good to meet you at last." "Hello Wanda." I said as she wrapped her arms around me. I felt her big breasts press against me as we hugged and kissed. It was not a shy kiss either. Our lips met and our lips parted, then our tongues were exploring each other as we sat clutched in each other's arms with the traffic zipping past not more than 50 meters away. I felt her hands exploring along my back, kneading me under the shoulders and along the sides of my midriff. I tasted her as her tongue darted into my mouth and the pressure of her breasts against my chest aroused me. I felt my cock harden and I turned myself further against her so she could feel it too. I realized my nervousness had evaporated and I felt like I had known Wanda forever. She was kissing me hard, but her kisses increased in urgency as she felt my cock against her thigh. My hands were wandering along her back but now I slipped one under her blouse and sought her breast. I felt her nipple through her bra, erect and sensuous, pressing against fabric. We were breathing heavily as we continued our long kiss. I slid under the bra and cupped her breast taking the nipple in between my thumb and finger, tweaking and rolling it as I massaged her breast. I sensed her becoming even more aroused and her hand slipped between my legs, cupping my balls. "Oh, Roger!" She murmured as she felt for my zipper. I pushed her blouse and bra up allowing her two huge breasts to fall free. It was the first time I had seen them exposed. Her nipples were large, almost like my thumbs, and fully erect. As my mouth closed over one of them I felt her open my zipper and reach into my pants, feeling urgently for my hard cock. She drew my shaft out and caressed him with gentle stroking movements while her other hand cupped my balls, squeezing gently. I was playing with those gorgeous tits, sharing my kisses between them, sucking on the nipples and feeling the ripples radiating from my groin as she began stroking my cock. Our kissing ended when Wanda dropped her head down into my lap. Her wet and eager mouth closed over my cock and she began moving up and down, sucking urgently on my shaft. I felt her tongue licking along the bottom of my cock in little darting movements that caused electric jolts of pleasure, making my body shudder in ecstasy. "Oh my dear Wanda!" I said, arching back to let her get the maximum amount of cock in her mouth. "That is so wonderful." I slid my hand under her skirt and worked it up her thigh, slipping under the elastic of her panties. She moved her legs, opening the gap for me and my fingers found the wetness of her vagina. She was so ready. Her pussy parted as my fingers explored and my index and middle finger slipped deep inside of her. She moaned with pleasure, but her licking and sucking did not stop and I felt a rush within me like the rising of a tide. "Careful. You will make me cum." I whispered. "Mmmm...Let it cum." She murmured taking her mouth of my shift only momentarily to say those words before going down again and taking my cock once again, in deep. She began working at it with even more gusto, her hand wrapped around my shaft stroking it while her lips and tongue worked the knob and the tender area around the top of my cock. I was finger fucking her in long, easy strokes and I felt her pussy pulsate. There were three of my fingers in there now and her juices were flowing. My own passion was reaching a crescendo and I felt that familiar rushing pressure. I knew I could not hold back. I was immanently going to ejaculate. "Oh my God! I am going to cum." I cried. My buttocks were already clenching in anticipation. "Yes, yes. Let it cum babe. I am ready for you." Wanda murmured as she continued to lick and suck my cock. She wrapped her lips tightly around my shaft and slip down onto it even further. I felt her tongue pressing against the bottom of my cock and then I couldn't hold on any longer. I started to cum. I felt as if my balls constricted and a huge shot of hot cream splashed onto her tongue. Wanda started stroking my cock even harder, faster as she gulped at the load that was streaming into her mouth. Wanda was swallowing as fast as she could, yet still she could not take it all and a pearly stream began to trickle from her mouth and down her chin. When my orgasm subsided she lifted her face and smiled up at me, looking like a naughty girl with ice cream smeared around her mouth. She still had my now deflating cock in her hand and was massaging him gently. "Mmmmm...You taste good." She chuckled. Her tongue darted around licking cum from her lips, cleaning it all away as I lay back against the upholstery, my chest heaving slightly in the aftermath of ecstasy. "You were awesome." I told her. "That was an amazing head-job." "Thank you." Her smile was radiant. We were still rather formal with each other even though she had just gobbled my shank and swallowed my cum, and I still had three fingers in her pussy! Somewhere in the back of my mind I saw the fact as amusingly absurd. "But you still owe me a fuck." She added, her grin widening. Well so much for being formal. I looked nervously about. Although we were some way off the road and our actions just past would have escaped unnoticed (Because her four wheel drive was obscured by my car and we had hunkered right down in the seats) I was not confident that my arse bobbing in the air would not be visible from the highway. Wanda tucked my cock back into my trousers and kissed my lips. Hers tasted rather salty; the taste of my cum on them. She smiled again. "My place would be better. More private." She suggested. We dressed quickly and I gave her one last kiss before returning to my car. * * * * * The trip to her house did not take very long. She ushered me into the hall and shut her front door, then pushed me against the wall and pressed herself against me. We fumbled and pulled at each other's clothes, dropping shed garments where they fell until we stood naked in each other's arms. We kissed again more passionately then before, our tongues darting into each other's mouth, tasting each other and twining together as we pressed together tightly. Minutes passed before we unlocked mouths and stood back a little to catch our breaths. My hands on her waist, hers on my shoulders we stood arms length apart and took our first look at each other naked. Wanda has terrific breasts. Large and full with big nipples that pop out easily into thumb-like nodes when she is aroused, (Which, I found out, as time went on. was quite often). I looked at those magnificent tits and felt my cock begin to harden again. This was where her eyes were and she widened them in surprise. "Oh, Roger. You are ready again?" She asked. I slipped my hand down and then came up inside her legs, feeling for her warm wet pussy that I had, not so long before, left totally unsatisfied. She gasped as I pushed my fingers deeply into her and then she smiled at the sensation of my cock rising like an Indian cobra getting ready to spit once more. "It seems I am!" I replied. Wanda took my free hand and stepped back causing my occupied fingers to slip from the velvety niche they were exploring. "Well, then it is my turn." She grinned and turned, leading me towards the deeper recesses of the house. We entered a bedroom with a nice sized double bed and she tenderly pushed me backwards onto it. "I want to ride you" She explained. I was on my back. My cock was rigid and ready as she straddled me. From my position I could see her hungry pussy open and ready to take my throbbing knob into her. She was shaved. I like that; a nice hairless pussy anxious for a hard fucking session. She took hold of my cock and slipped the knob between her pussy lips, then slid herself onto me. It was sensational I felt my cock slip in, upwards, deep into her and I felt her pussy muscles contract and ripple along my shaft as if it were sucking me off. Then she started to ride. Slowly at first, lifting and falling, taking my cock in as far as it would go. Then she sped up, picking up her pace slightly with every few strokes. Soon she was heaving up and down and my balls were slamming hard against her arse as my cock rammed home hard with her every stroke. She was moaning...softly at first, then the moans became little yelps of pleasure. Her pussy tightened around my cock until it felt like a tight little glove and her yelps became screams of pleasure. I was a little worried that the neighbors would hear her, but she was bouncing unabated, spearing herself deep on my pounding cock. I felt her begin to pulse and she pushed down hard burying my cock in so deep that every millimeter of it was inside her pussy. Her cry became a long drawn out wail as she cum. I felt her pussy juices flow along my shaft, running out of her and over my balls like a warm tide. That finished me off and my cock began a pulsation of its own as I shot several loads of hot semen deep inside of her. She fell forward onto me and I hugged her to me. Again we kissed as both of our juices mingled together inside of her. When we had regained our strength we disentangled and sat cross legged facing each other on the bed. She was giggling with happiness, her tits bouncing enticingly as I grinned and tried to catch my breath. Her hand sneaked under my balls and she cupped them in her palm as she studied my shrinking cock. It was shiny and sticky with our mixed cum and some trickled down onto her upward facing palm. Her pussy was also wet and little trickles of our love juices were running down between her legs and in between her buttocks. "Oh my, what a great fuck." She said as she jiggled my ball bag up and down a bit. "Not bad for a couple of oldies huh?" "Not THAT old." I retorted. "Still plenty of mileage left in us yet." That was the very first time that Wanda and I fucked. It was a sweet and memorable moment that neither of us had thought would ever happen.