47 comments/ 123710 views/ 4 favorites Over The Edge By: patricia51 Ronald sat on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. His hands idly tossed an object back and forth, the plastic no longer cool as it had been when he started. He stopped for a moment when he thought he heard a car door, then continued as he realized the sound was from down the street. Margaret. There, he had managed to force her name into his conscious mind. He had been avoiding it, avoiding thinking about her. He had tried to stare a hole in the wallpaper on the other side of the room to keep from her appearing to him. But there she was. Not only her name, he could see her in front of him; her gentle, loving smile piercing his heart. He wiped his eyes clear of the tears that sprang up. Whatever had he been thinking? "Only of yourself, you stupid bastard," he bitterly said aloud. How had he come to this state? From loving husband to, to whatever word could possibly describe what he was today. A goddamn fool if nothing else. He had met Margaret in college. Two years ahead of her, he had been one of the Big Men on Campus. He had been attracted at once to the slender, athletic black haired girl. She had met his attempts at impressing her with a smile and refused every invitation for months. One of his pals had advised him to drop his pursuit. "Hey Ronald, come on man. Don't you know she's a dyke?" Ronald had been surprised and admitted that he had no idea about that. He asked his friend how he knew. "Well, she's gotta be man. She won't go out with you, or hell, even me. And she's on the track team. Shit, any woman who plays sports like that has to a lesbian." Ronald had thought that perhaps that explained it. Curiosity drove him down to the athletic field one afternoon after reading in the school paper about a woman's track meet. For a change he sat far up in the stands, instead of using his letterman's jacket to demand a seat on the bottom row. He enjoyed the meet. He found himself rooting for the women athletes. When Margaret appeared in her first event, the hundred meter hurdles, he was transfixed. Her body moved with fluid grace and her legs, wow. Even sunk in his misery, Ronald smiled at the memory of the fire that those long supple legs had ignited in him. When the competition was over, the team had taken first place. Margaret had finished in second place in three individual events but had been a member of the first pace relay team. Ronald hesitantly made his way down the bleachers to where the congratulations where being exchanged. Coming face to face with her, for the first time in years Ronald had been speechless in front of a woman. Finally he managed to clear his throat as she watched with quiet amusement. "Ah, congrats Margaret. That was really something." he fumbled for more words and couldn't find them. He turned away, realizing that he was actually blushing. Him! "Ronald," she called to him. When he turned she had walked up to him and taken his hand. "Thank you." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You know, when you're not trying to be the BMOC, you're a pretty good guy. Why don't you let that out more often?" She grinned as he unbelievably blushed again. "Call me." He had. She had accepted. The rest had been history. Margaret had surprised him in so many ways. Determined to keep her virginity until after their wedding, she had made that night memorable. After eluding their pursuing friends, they had reached their first night's destination, a small bed-and-breakfast near the coast. Ronald had carefully opened the champagne, unsure of how Margaret was going to react that night when he became aware of her standing in the bedroom doorway. He had turned and his jaw had dropped. Margaret was leaning against the door frame. One hand was on her hip, barely concealed by the black lace teddy she was wearing. The other hand stretched up over her head. The skimpy outfit was accompanied by nothing more than a pair of black high heels and the most enticing smile he had ever seen. "Say there, sailor. Looking for a good time?" She winked at him. As he continued to gap in amazement she sashayed to him, Locking her hands behind her head, she started a bump and grind. She slipped farther down until she was undulating just above the floor. Her hands came from behind her head and unfastened his belt and slacks. With a triumphant grin she had freed his hard cock and her mouth surrounded it. "Oh yum," she had purred. "I've been wanting to see if this was as much fun as I thought it might be." Her lips slid down his shaft. He felt her choke momentarily and then continue to engulf him. Then she was on her knees and she sucked him wildly, if inexpertly. The blow job had actually been terrible. He knew she had never tried one before. The closest they had come to sex was heavy petting, with her giving him hand jobs on occasion. But her willingness to try to please him was more important and more arousing than if she had been an expert. He scooped her up into his arms and kissed her. In a sudden riotous mood he had thrown her over his shoulder. She had pounded on his back and kicked her legs while he headed for the king-sized bed. He had dumped her onto the sheets and pounded his chest. "Me cave man, you cave woman. Ugh. Cave man want fuck woman. NOW!" They both burst into gales of laughter. In one long movement, Margaret had unsnapped the teddy between her legs and wiggled the straps down her arms. She pulled the lacey top down, letting her small but so firm breasts free. Pink nipples stood out, as hard and as erect as his cock had been. She spread her legs and reached over her head to grasp the headboard. "Ugh. Cave girl want husband to fuck his woman. NOW!" He threw himself on her, almost smothering her lithe form under him. She grasped his cock and guided him smoothly inside her. There was a moment of resistance, then she gave a strangled cry and he plunged all the way in. The laughter fled, to be replaced by moans and cries of passion. When had he decided their sex life wasn't enough for him? And for God's sake why? Margaret had continued to be passionate and open to him. Perhaps it was some stupid vestige of his status as one of the campus studs. He had never had a steady lover of any kind, preferring to play the field. He had always announced smugly that anyone who tied themselves down to one partner was a fool. But he had loved Margaret. He had changed positions in his firm so he wouldn't have to travel as much. For the born wanderer that he had been, it had seemed like a sacrifice. But it wasn't. He loved being married and he loved being home. Then Tim and Jan had moved in down the street. They seemed to be just another "young upwardly mobile" couple in their late twenties. Like about half of the neighborhood, they didn't have kids. That made them ideal to hang around with. He and Margaret had been scrapping a bit over the idea of children for about a year. She wanted to start a family. He wanted to wait until they were a bit more settled and financially settled. "No," he said aloud. "You didn't want children because you thought they would stamp you as a soccer dad or something and you wouldn't give up your fantasy of still being 'Mister Hot Guy'." He and Margaret and Tim and Jan had become fast friends. They made up a foursome at the country club for golf almost every weekend. The girls went shopping together, the guys found a mutual interest in hunting. They spent most of their free time together. However, once a month or so Tim and Jan made excuses for the weekend. Their cars would usually be in the driveway, along with perhaps three or four that he didn't recognize, but they had explained that they "wouldn't be available". Once, Ronald had thought he had seen Jan and Tim exchange little grins when those exact words were uttered. He knew he was seeing an inside joke between the other couple. He didn't resent it, every couple has their little secrets, but it made him wonder. One of those weekends Ronald was out jogging. He normally exercised at the gym but an early morning meeting had made his miss his usual time. He enjoyed being in shape, part of his determination to be the young, carefree guy he still saw as himself. He had put in his two miles and was heading home as he passed Jan and Tim's house. The faint laughter of many voices brought him up short. Curious, he slowed to a walk and headed up the driveway. Ronald never would have thought of himself as a voyeur, but the sounds he heard as he approached the front porch lured him in. He glanced through the slight part in the curtains and gasped. Jan was standing in the middle of the living room. She was nude. A man Ronald had never seen before was behind her. His hands cupped her breasts and his lips were on the side of her neck. She leaned back against him, her hips moving wantonly against his groin. He was responding, one hand fell to clutch her belly and pull her hard against him. His hips were thrusting. Ronald realized he was fucking her. Fucking her? How could Jan do that? He was almost tempted to break in and stop her from betraying his friend. Then more movement caught his eye and his mouth actually did drop open. Tim was seated in a dining room chair. A blonde woman was straddling him, facing him with her arms around his neck. Her feet were planted on the floor and she was bouncing vigorously up and down on him. Ronald could see the base of Tim's cock appearing and disappearing as she rode it. Tim was looking over her shoulder at Jan and the other man with a huge grin on his face. What else might be transpiring in the house Ronald didn't know. From the number of extra cars in the driveway it was apparent that the four in view were not the only ones in the house. The others he assumed must belong to those cars might be scattered throughout the house. Ronald realized two things. One was that he was standing in front of the house like a peeping tom and needed to be gone, now. The second was that he was immensely excited by the sight of their friends fucking two other people. He managed to tear his eyes away and get home and into the shower. He replayed the scene in his mind. Almost unconsciously he began to stroke his cock. He closed his eyes, imagining the blonde woman's lips on him. Even better, he thought of Jan's lush ass pressed against him and what it would feel like to be buried between those cheeks. His imagination was running so wild the sudden spurt from his cock caught him off guard. He had been surprised and a bit shaken by the intensity the experience had on him. He tried to put it out of his mind but he couldn't. He didn't fantasize about anyone while making love with Margaret, but thoughts of Jan crossed his mind often. Finally he had approached Tim and casually asked him out for a beer when they both got off work. Sitting in a favorite watering hole, Ronald had hemmed and hawed until finally Tim told him to "get off the dime" and tell him what he wanted. The words had spilled from Ronald. He was sure he had actually turned red as he explained what he had seen. He had waited and was immensely relieved when Tim had laughed. "Not to worry, Ronald. I must say Jan and I have talked over and talked over how to approach you and Margaret on this." In response to Ronald's look of surprise, and interest, Tim had continued. "You see, Jan and I are swingers. We're very careful swingers. No wandering sluts or barnyard roosters are welcome. Just careful married couples who want to add a little spice in their marriage." "Wow," was all Ronald had been able to say. "As I said, we've wanted to find a way to invite you. I am guessing from what you said you would love to have Jan, and I assure you she'd love to have you too. I think Margaret is about as desirable as women come." Ronald was slightly put off by Tim's interest in Margaret. "Absurd," he had reminded himself, "After all, you want to nail HIS wife." "So, what do you think? The next get together will be in five weeks. Talk it over with Margaret." Tim started to rise and then sat back down. "One thing, Ronald. Both partners have to be in this. No cuckolds, no cheating husbands. I mention this only because this isn't being unfaithful, at least not to us and in this context." "I understand." Ronald left, his mind in a whirl. God, it all sounded so exciting. He just knew that it would add immeasurably to their sex life. And after all, it wasn't cheating was it? Ronald wanted to hold his head in his hands again. How stupid could he have been to think that swinging was something that Margaret would have entertained for a moment? And why had he thought Jan's body was any match for hers? It was different, that was all. Why couldn't he have thought of that then? Blinded by greed, he guessed. He had the loveliest woman ever already but he had wanted more. Her reaction to his casual mention of swinging had provoked the reaction that he should have expected, WOULD have expected had he not been so blinded by his fantasies. She had told him in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in the idea, no desire for anyone except him and she thought it was just mutual cheating. He should have let it drop. He hadn't. He had never come right out and told her it was Tim and Jan who were involved but he had continued to bring up the idea. He had even advanced to the point that he had mentioned he knew a couple that was into that lifestyle, implying it was someone she didn't know. The more he pushed, the more Margaret had resisted. Vocal at first, she had become increasingly withdrawn as the weeks went on. In his foolishness, he had somehow interpreted her increasing quiet to his suggestions as a sign that she was weakening. One day he had run into Jan at the mall. She had been coming out of a well known lingerie store. "Hey Ronald." She had kissed him on the cheek, and then winked at him. "I have something special here for Saturday night. Its nothing but a wisp of black lace but you wouldn't believe what it cost." "Speaking of that, are we going to see you and Margaret there? Tim is chomping and snorting when her name is mentioned. In fact," she winked at him, "I'd love to be with her myself. But this time I want you big boy." Unseen under the packages she held, her fingers brushed his groin. Ronald bit back a groan. His cock had taken a jump, both from the touch of her fingers and from the image of Jan with Margaret. He had never really thought about his wife with another woman but the thought was arousing. "Yes, we'll be there, except," he paused, unsure of what to say. "Except for what?" Actual disappointment was in Jan's eyes. "Well, Margaret wants to come," Ronald improvised. "Its just she is very shy you know. She doesn't loosen up easily." He forced a chuckle. "I may have to get her drunk first to relax her enough." "Oh don't do that, that takes away half the feeling and the fun. I tell you what. I have a little something that will take the edge off her anxiety." Seeing his face, she hastily added, "It won't make her a slave or anything stupid like that, just relax her. Its completely safe." She gave him the name of the drug. "You can research it yourself to be sure its okay." If he had possessed any sense at all he would have stopped right then. But he hadn't, so he had nodded and accepted the idea. He had gone online and checked on the drug and its effects and side-effects and also consulted a Pharmacist's Guide at the library. Reassured, he met Jan at her house one afternoon and she gave him a small, dark brown bottle with a fine white powder. Jan explained he should simply put a little in Margaret's drink an hour or so before they came to the party Now it seemed like Friday night would never come. It did, of course, and he had surprised Margaret by taking her out to a nice restaurant for dinner. He knew she would dress nicely for that, as they often went dancing after and then home to bed. They had a fine meal. Following Jan's directions he had sprinkled the powder in her wine glass while she was in the ladies' room. He hadn't hesittated to do that, but he had paused when she wanted to go dancing after dinner. He told her that Jan and Tim were having a get-together and maybe they could go afterward. She really looked disappointed. Why in hell hadn't he let that look convince him to take her dancing and never look back? But instead he had soothed her by telling her that if they didn't enjoy the party they could leave and still go out. The party started out like any other Friday night cocktail party. There was mingling, conversation and food and drink. Ronald checked several times and it did appear that Margaret was enjoying herself and seemed to be a less insistant about her personal space. Jan came out of the kitchen and gave him a wink and a thumbs up. He looked past her and saw Margaret in an animated conversation with Tim and some guy who's name he hadn't caught. She was sitting on the counter, her skirt much higher than usual and the guys were close on either side of her. He wasn't sure but he thought Tim had his hand on her leg. Even now he couldn't decide when the "swinging" part of the evening started. He wished he had. Maybe if there had been a sharp line that divided "before" and "after" he might have come to his senses at the last moment. No, probably not. He had been given plenty of chances to change his mind and had bulled right past them. How the partners for the evening had been decided on he didn't know. But people had been drifting out of the room for a little while before he noticed the room was emptying out. He looked across to see Margaret. A rush of relief mixed with anxiety swept over him as he saw that she was leaning against Tim, her face turned up to him and her arms around his waist. That was the last chance. Then Jan was kissing him and he was kissing her back. The idea of holding another woman, of stripping the clothes off her and she undressing him, drove everything else from his mind. Ronald had been so blinded by the feel of Jan's full curves he hadn't even seen Margaret leave. His attention had been on the willing woman leading him to the couch and pulling him down on top of her. He had buried his face between her breasts, his tongue darting back and forth from one large brown nipple to the other. She had wiggled her whole body under him, pushing up to him. His hard cock had slipped between her legs. Suddenly she pulled him up along her body, already damp with their sweat. "Ronald," she had gasped. "Straddle me. I want you to fuck my tits." Emboldened by her words he had knelt over her belly. He grasped her full breasts, pressing them over his shaft. He began a steady rocking motion, sliding his erection in her valley. His hands had tightened on her breasts, squeezing them as she moaned and cried out. "Yes, tight, dig your fingers in my tits." He responded and thrust faster and harder between her breasts, crushing them against his cock. She bent her head and managed to lick the helmet each time he heaved forward with his hips. He had felt himself throbbing and then with a grunt and one more squeeze of her tits he had shot his cum over her breasts and face. Jan had grinned and licked her lips. "That was good Ronald. Now," she squirmed from under him. "You sit down and let me get you ready to go again." He no sooner leaned back against the cushions then she knelt before him and swallowed his cock. "Mmm, yummy," she had commented as she licked the cum off his shaft. Then she settled down to giving him a serious blowjob. At first he had thought she was wasting her time. Then he began to harden again under the touch of her mouth. She held his cock deep in her mouth, her tongue stroking the underside and the slow, steady suction aroused him back to full hardness. Over The Edge Feeling him quiver in her mouth, Jan had sprung to her feet and grasped his hand. Grinning, she had pulled him to the same table he had seen Tim and the blonde with. Only this time Jan had boosted herself onto it and was spreading her legs wantonly for him. "Now, Ronald, now its time for you to do some serious Jan fucking." He had. Three steps and he grabbed her. Her legs circled his body and he rammed his cock up inside her. Her arms followed her legs and she locked herself to him, crushing her full breasts to his chest. He didn't even kiss her this time, he didn't make love to her. He just fucked her. "Damn yes Ronald, that's how I like it," she cried out. "Take me. Use me like a possession, just a cunt to fuck." He responded by speeding up his thrusts. "Hammer me, drive that cock in me. You love it, don't you," she gasped. "You love fucking a woman like a slut. Well, that's me baby." Ronald was lost in his lust. He pinned Jan against the table's edge, pounding against her so hard he was sure he was bruising her thighs as well as where her ass slapped the table. Jan pounded him on the back with her heels and scratched his back. She dropped her head to his shoulder and bit him as he gave a wordless cry somewhere between a curse and a scream. His cock spurted inside her like a flood and she fell back onto the table, completely spent as the force of her own orgasm left her helpless. Completely satiated, once he could finally move again, he had slipped up the stairs to see how Timothy was doing with Margaret. What he found was well beyond his wildest thoughts. It was also far beyond what he was prepared to deal with. Margaret, his beautiful, loving Margaret was not only with Tim, but with two other men as well. One was slumped in the chair by the bed, his eyes half-glazed with a look of utter satisfaction and his cock soft between his legs. Tim was laying beside Margaret, who was pinned between him and the third man, who was a complete stranger to Ronald. "Oh Yeah. Fuck me, damn you. Fuck me hard. I need your hard cocks. Take me in the ass, in my cunt. I need it." Margaret was all but incoherent. Streaks of cum ran down her legs. Her eyes were glazed. Ronald clutched the doorframe. This wasn't what he had thought was going to happen. "Well, you fool", he told himself, "What in Hell did you expect? A nice clean scene? Something romantic? He wanted to rush in and stop what was happening, but he couldn't move. He had set this up, now he was paying the price for it. He must have made some sound, for Margaret looked towards the doorway. For a moment her eyes seemed to clear from the fog and she turned white. Ronald swiftly stepped back out of sight. He stumbled down the stairs. It wasn't until later that he realized he had also seen two whiskey bottles in the room. Somehow in the daze of the next hour he had managed to get them both dressed and home. Margaret had still be incoherent as he cleaned her as best as he could and put her to bed. The next two days had been incredibly strained. He fumbled and fumbled trying to find the words to bring up the subject of the party. He admitted to himself that he wanted Margaret to tell him what an awful time she had. But he couldn't broach the subject. He couldn't even make eye contact with her lest he somehow give away what he had arranged. So he had ignored it. He had ignored everything, the silences, the signs of tears, the avoidance of his touch. He had gone off to work finally on Monday, still wrestling with what had happened. He hadn't been able to do any work at all. He simply sat at his desk and stared at the wall. He ignored the phone until his secretary burst into the room. "Ronald, for god's sake! The hospital's trying to reach you. Margaret's been taken there. Whatever it is, its serious." He had burst through the doors of the emergency room. Gasping a frantic question to the nurse's station, he had been directed down a hallway to one of the rooms. He sprinted the short distance. When he arrived, he saw a woman standing in the doorway. "Nurse, NURSE, please, I need to find my wife," he gasped frantically. The blonde woman turned to face him. He saw the stethoscope around her neck and realized his mistake, even as she took his arm. "Mister Andrews, I'm Doctor Gibson." She looked at him with an expression of sympathy that in itself told him what her next words would be. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid your wife is gone, despite our best efforts. We did everything that we could but the EMT's found her too late." She guided him to a chair, still holding his arm. "What happened? I don't understand. All I was told was that she was here. Did she have an accident?" When the young female doctor hesitated, he begged her, "Please, what happened?" "We won't know everything until after the autopsy, but she was found unconscious by your neighbor who came over when repeated phone calls weren't answered. She summoned the paramedics," Doctor Gibson swallowed, "Who found an empty bottle of prescription sleeping pills beside her. They rushed her here, where we pumped her stomach and administered stimulants. Her breathing and pulse had already stopped when the EMT's found her. I'm so very sorry." Ronald head reeled. Had he not been seated already he might have fallen. "Suicide? That's absurd. She would never have done anything like that." "That's what we need to discover, Mister Andrews." A different voice broke through his confusion. Looking up he found his gaze caught by a pair of intense brown eyes. "Sir, I'm Sergeant Carol Wilson of the Sheriff's Department." Harold took in the trim figure of a dark haired woman. Her casual attire was offset by the gold badge slung around her neck and the heavy pistol holstered on her right side. "I know this is not a good time, but I need to ask some questions. The sooner I can get the answers the faster I can get started on resolving this situation." "What do you need to know?" asked Ronald. The cop looked at the doctor, who nodded firmly. "Mister Andrews, a toxicology screen was performed when your wife was brought in. Frankly, her symptoms indicated a drug overdose of some kind and the hospital staff was desperately hoping to discover what drug was in your wife's system so we could try to counter the effects." Doctor Gibson added gently, "A large quantity of barbiturates was found in your wife's system. Additionally though, traces were found of other drugs. One was mood altering drug. Its a mild euphoric sometimes given to relax people who are tied in emotional knots. By itself its completely harmless." The words "by itself" rang in Ronald's mind. He would have never even considered giving Margaret what he had if he had not carefully checked out its effects and any complications. A hideous doubt came over him at her words. He nodded jerkily. "Even in combination with alcohol its effects are mild. They are enhanced but generally not dangerous. However, in this case there was a third item in the mixture and all together they combined to produce a dangerous side-effect. Were you aware your wife was taking an anti-depressant?" Shocked, Ronald blurted "No. Oh God. She never said anything." "This is not a strong anti-depressant. In fact, in a mild form, its available over the counter. As I said, usually its harmless. When combined with the other drug and alcohol, as I suspect we'll find, its most dangerous effect is to exacerbate the depression rather than relieve it. The combination produces an extreme high, followed by a crushing low." She touched his arm. "Mister Andrews, you can't blame yourself. You can't even blame her. I believe she was not in her right mind when she took the sleeping pills." "No," interjected Sergeant Gibson. "But I suspect that whoever gave her the drugs can be blamed. Mister Andrews, I know this has been a terrible shock. But as soon as possible I need to find out where your wife has been and who she's been with over the last few days." She swallowed. "This is terribly personal but needs to be asked. Mister Andrews, were you aware that your wife apparently was sexually active outside your marriage?" "Good God NO," Ronald had blurted out. "How could you think such a thing?" "Because of this." The woman took a piece of paper from her clipboard. "This is a copy, you understand. The original is being sent to the State Crime Lab." She hesitated. "Mister Andrews, are you sure you want to see this?" "Please," Ronald all but begged. The Sergeant handed him the paper from the clipboard. "Dear Ronald," it started. "Oh God, Ronald, what happened to me? I don't understand. I was having a good time at the party and then all of a sudden I found myself walking up the stairs with Tim, and some other guy. I don't know that I even knew who he was. Then, oh god, Ronald, I was on the bed, pinned between them. Their hands were all over me and they were undressing me and then I wanted them. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think of you. All I wanted was to be fucked. I begged them for it. I wanted all I could get from them. When they came in me and on me all I could think of was to suck them hard again. "Sometime in all that a third man joined in. Once, just once, I imagined I saw your face. I pray that I didn't. I can't explain at all what came over me, but the shame of thinking that you saw your wife behaving like a whore is too much. "Regardless of whether you saw me or not, somehow you know. I can tell it. You won't speak to me, you won't touch me. And how could I blame you? I sank to a level I never thought I could. And I know that if I did once, I could again. I can't do that. I can't be a slut. "I'm so sorry to have hurt you. I can't face what I did. I can't face anything. I'm sorry." The letter was signed simply "Margaret". Sergeant Wilson plucked the letter from Ronald's nerveless fingers. "I'm sorry Mister Andrews." Ronald buried his face in his hands, his thoughts a swirl where he could not distinguish one from another. When he lifted his face he saw tears swimming in the eyes of the doctor. She was trying to maintain her professionalism but Ronald could see she was losing her self-control. Even in his state of shock, Ronald was surprised when the policewoman hugged and then kissed the other female. "You did all you could Stephanie. I know it and you know it too. Don't beat yourself up." Switching her attention to Ronald, she continued. "Mister Andrews, I will find out what happened. If foul play is involved I will bring those responsible to justice." A look blazed in her eyes that made Ronald shiver, even as she turned and strode down the hall. Doctor Gibson took a deep breath and turned to face Ronald. "Mister Andrews, I'm sure its not any consolation at all right now, but my sister is a very good detective. She won't give up until she finds out the whole story behind this. She takes after our mother, who was a bulldog on a case, especially one like this." "Sister? Your mother?" "Yes, our mother and father are both senior members of the Sheriff's Department. Mom has spent most of her career as an investigator and a very good one. Carol has always wanted to be just like her." Ronald nodded, "That's good to know." Dazed, he allowed the deeply sympathetic Doctor to contact a friend to come pick him up. She had quietly offered to contact the funeral home and make arrangements to have Margaret's body taken there. The funeral was nothing but a blur. As he stood at the gravesite, Tim walked up to him. Jan stood by their car. He wanted to hate them, but he could only be honest with himself. They didn't cause this. He had. "Ronald, we're so sorry." Tim swallowed. "Ronald, there's been a Sergeant from the Sheriff's Department asking questions. She's very persistent. We haven't out right lied to her, but she knows we're not telling her everything. Jan is a wreck. I know the cop will be back, maybe today, maybe tomorrow. We can't cover up what happened at the party. I'm so sorry; Sorry about this, sorry about everything." Ronald nodded stiffly. After Tim and Jan left, he turned and walked back to the funeral home limo. He had a couple of things to do and from the sound of it he didn't have much time for them. Ronald brought himself back to the present. This time he knew the sound of the doors slamming was coming from his driveway. A female voice he recognized from the hospital was shouting orders. What was her name again? The answer was supplied immediately when the sound of a fist pounding on the front door was accompanied by her voice "Mister Andrews, this is Sergeant Wilson of the Sheriff's Department. Open the door. I have an arrest warrant for you on charges of illegal drug use and aggravated spousal abuse." There was a pause and then the front door creaked open. Ronald could hear voices as the bottom floor was searched and then he heard the sound of careful footsteps on the stairs. He caught a glimpse of brown hair as Wilson quick checked the bedroom. Then she was standing in the doorway, her service weapon in both hands pointed at him. Two uniformed officers flanked her. "Your sister was right, Sergeant Wilson, you're a very good detective. It didn't take you any time at all to figure out I was the one who drugged Margaret" He looked up at her. "Believe me when I tell you I never intended things to turn out that way. I completely misunderstood her. I let my own selfish passions override my love for her. Now she's gone, and the fault is mine." He searched the officer's eyes, finding compassion in them. In a way he wished he didn't see it. It was going to make things more difficult. He steeled himself for what he wanted to happen next. "I understand, Mister Andrews." She paused. "Ronald. Please. Put down the gun." Ronald looked down at the automatic in his hand. He had almost forgotten it. Almost. He shook his head sadly. "I can't do that Sergeant Wilson." "Please Ronald. I know what you're trying to do. Please don't do this to yourself. This isn't the answer. I know you're hurting. You were terribly wrong but this isn't going to bring her back." "Do you believe in God, Sergeant Wilson?" He saw her nod and continued. "I never did before, but now, at the end, I can't believe that Margaret is gone forever, like a puff of smoke. Perhaps he does exist. Perhaps in the 'infinite mercy' that he supposedly has, he'll allow me to join her wherever her spirit has gone." He took a deep breath and swung the gun up and towards the three cops. "Ronald, don't! DON'T!" The last word seemed to come as a endless cry as his finger tightened on the trigger. He saw the muzzle of Wilson's pistol flame and felt the bullets slam into his chest. And then he felt nothing at all and the darkness swept over him. Carol Wilson lowered her pistol. The uniform to her right did the same. The third officer kept his weapon trained on the motionless body crumpled on the floor by the bed. He crabbed forward, carefully kicking the gun away from the hand it had fallen from. He knelt and checked for a pulse. Shaking his head, he stood and holstered his weapon. "Are you okay Carol?" he asked quietly. "I wanted to believe he wouldn't fire. I knew he was goading us. He WANTED this to happen." She holstered her own weapon. Mechanically she directed the uniformed officer beside her to secure the scene. Her radio call to the dispatcher, requesting a supervisor and Internal Affairs at the scene of an "Officer Involved Shooting" was calm and unemotional. "Carol, you had no choice. We had no choice. Yes, perhaps he wouldn't have shot, but you can't know that. As determined as he was to have this ending," the young male cop nodded towards Ronald's body, "If you hadn't have fired he might have. To make us shoot, he could have well opened up on you, on me, on Stan." "Suicide by cop." Carol stated quietly. "I knew that's what he wanted. But damn it, now I have to live with it." The other cop enfolded her in his arms. "Yeah you do, sis. But you don't have to carry this alone. Remember that. Mom and Dad both went through this, as have I. You reacted from your training. You'll second-guess yourself your whole life, but you were right. I'm going to call Roger and get him over here." Raising a hand to stifle her protests, he continued" You need your husband here now Carol. He can drop the kids off at Mom and Dad's." "Alright. Leave everything untouched. We'll wait for IAD downstairs. Stan, keep everyone out till they get here." Sergeant Carol Wilson looked one more time at the body on the floor. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer for the man who couldn't be content with what he had and lost it all. (The End) Over the Edge "Are you comfortable there?" She nodded but didn't speak. She was wearing standard office attire: a knee length skirt in navy blue and a short-sleeved, light-blue blouse with only the first button undone. She held her purse on her lap with both hands. "Would you like something to drink? Water? A glass of wine? I have a nice Chardonnay." "I'm fine." She looked away from him and towards the bed in front of her. "Would you rather be farther back?" "No, it's fine." She tapped her purse, manicured nails clicking on the gold clasp. "Actually." She paused and he waited. He was fully dressed still in khakis and a polo. "Maybe a glass of wine would help." "Whatever makes you comfortable. I want you to enjoy this." "I'm sure I will." He got a glass of wine from the kitchen and brought it back into the bedroom. She was looking towards the window where the blinds were half drawn. He handed her the glass and went to the window, pulling the cord to lower the blinds and turning the wand to close them fully. "No one can see in anyway." "I wasn't worried. I'm just going to sit here." She sipped the wine. "I know. I want to make sure you're comfortable." He sat on the bed, not close enough to touch. "I am. I mean, it's weird. Obviously." She watched him take off his shoes: loafers, no socks. "You're not nervous? You won't have trouble performing?" "I love performing." He leaned over to line his shoes up under the bed. "Right." Her eyes flicked to his crotch. "And you'll enjoy watching?" "I think so." "You will. I have a nice body and I get a lot of pleasure out of it." He stood and undid his belt buckle, pulling the belt through the loops. She flinched as it whipped free. "Is this OK? Are you ready?" "What the hell." She put her purse under her chair, then giggled and took another drink. "Go ahead." Her eyes moved between his face and his chest as he pulled his shirt free from his pants and unbuttoned it slowly. "Excuse me." He reached around her to drape his shirt across the back of her chair and she jumped. "Sorry." He stepped back. "I didn't mean to--" "--it's OK. I was just--" "I won't touch you." "I know." She put a hand to her cheek and took another drink. "You do have a nice body." "Thanks. I work on it." "Are you hard?" Her eyes moved to his khakis. "Can't you tell?" She swallowed more wine. Her glass was nearly empty. She nodded. "I wanted to hear you say it." "I'm very hard. I've been hard all day thinking about it. About you. You don't know what this does to me." She shrugged lightly, her shoulders barely moving. "I guess you'll find out." She smiled then and their eyes met. She finished the glass and he took it from her. "More?" She shook her head. "Show me." She undid a button on her blouse and wiped a hand across her forehead. "Warm?" "A little. No. Never mind. Go on." He unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled down the zipper. She leaned towards him, her arms resting along her thighs and her knees parted. He lowered his pants and stepped out of them one foot at a time, then folded them neatly and walked towards her. "Do you mind?" She shook her head and he laid them over the back of the chair. His erection tented the fabric of his boxers as he crossed back to the bed. "I like to use a lot of lube." He pulled a bottle out of the nightstand and set it within easy reach. "It makes everything slide." He put his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and lowered them a few inches. The head of his cock caught in the elastic and he pulled forward and out to free it before sliding them the rest of the way to the ground. He stepped out of them, leaving them where they lay, and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached for the lube and a movement caught his eye. She held her hand out. He gave her the boxers. She twisted them between her hands and then, slowly, raised them to her nose and inhaled. Briefly they both closed their eyes. "If you're going to be so sexy, I'm not going to last long." She flushed, smiled more easily. "You said you'd take your time." "Don't worry, I will. I want this to last forever." He arranged the pillows so he could recline against them--spread out but able to see her. Her eyes were fixed on his cock. He picked up the lube and squeezed some into his hand. "Ready?" "You're teasing us both." "Maybe. The more I build, the better it is." He turned his hand upside down and watched as the lube slowly ran off his palm and onto his waiting dick. "How long do you like to go?" "A half hour at least. An hour when I have time." "Do you have time?" "Nothing to do but this." He smeared the last of the lube over the head of his dick in a circular rubbing motion. "What does it feel like?" "Heat. Expectation. My cock knows what's coming." She put the boxers in her lap and scooted her chair forward. "Better." He wrapped his hand around his dick and lazily jerked it, sometimes stopping below the head and sometimes pulling over it. "I'm just playing with it now. Getting it warmed up. I can feel the pleasure rising from the base." "Like a pressure." "Yes." "I can feel it sometimes when I'm giving a blowjob--the pressure rising." "Exactly. The shaft thickens, the head swells." "And the veins start pumping. You have good veins." "I love the veins too." He traced one with a fingertip, easing off with the rest of his hand. "I could cum right now, you know. It's that easy sometimes. Holding off is--" "An art." He laughed. "I guess you could call it that. But a pleasure too. Men only get one chance to cum. Best to make the most of it." He went back to full strokes, lingering around the tip and the base, dipping a hand to his balls now and then. She watched without comment, her eyes focused on his dick. "The skin gets so sensitive, like an itching or a tingling. Just to brush it with the back of my hand gives me a shiver of pleasure." He skimmed his knuckles lightly down the shaft. "It feels good anywhere I touch and everywhere I'm not touching is crying for it." "Good thing you have two hands." "I could use four." He smiled but she didn't answer. "Sometimes I like to do this." He made a ring with his fingers and thumb and pressed tightly over the head until it popped through, then pulled until the rim slid back through his fingers and only the tip lay nestled within them. He repeated the motion, making a little gasping moan each time the head broke through. "What does that feel like?" "Like I'm fucking you." She caught her breath and leaned in closer. His boxers hung forgotten from her fingertips, dangling between her knees. He shifted his hands so one pressed against the head while the other journeyed luxuriously up and down his shaft, tugging at his balls on each down stroke. "And what does that feel like?" "Like someone's toying with me." "Can you do both?" "Watch." He wrapped both hands around his shaft, the top hand circling below the head, jerking up and barely over, while the bottom hand stroked downward, bottoming out along his balls. "Beautiful." "Intense." "Don't stop. I want to learn the rhythm of it." She watched his hands move in concert, one up, one down, together stroking the full length of his cock. "I love this part--the frenzy. But I can only do it for so long." He moaned and an echoing sound escaped from her. "Already." "Yes." "Already it's too much. My cock is screaming at me, begging me to finish it quickly." He laughed and slowed his hands, caught her eye. "He's impatient but he'll thank me later." "It's stronger, the orgasm?" "Stronger, longer, more explosive. And every moment leading up to it is sweet." "Your cock doesn't think so." She gestured towards it with a hand that was almost near enough to touch. "It looks angry." "Sweet torture." He sighed. "It's the best feeling in the world--a hard cock and someone playing with it. Even if it is myself." "I'd like to make someone feel like that." "You can." He reached for the lube and drizzled it onto his dick. "This is a good one but you need lube." He cork-screwed his hands around the shaft, alternately sliding them around and across the head. "And what does that feel like?" "Like an orgy. God, it's so good." He closed his eyes for a moment and let his hips roll with the rhythm. "Whew." He took his hands off his dick and rubbed them across his chest. "I need a break." She sat up, blinking. "Just for a moment. Sometimes I like to let it sit, calm down. Then I can go back to full strokes." He ran a hand over his balls, cupping them, then pulling them away from his body. "Right now it's too hot to touch." "It does look kind of red." "Sizzling." He laughed. "Could I get closer?" "Closer the better. Come look." She rose, letting his boxers fall to the ground. "Would you like to sit?" He shifted to make room for her and she sat on the edge of the bed, her hip brushing his. They were both looking at his cock. "The head is very purple now, isn't it?" "Does it hurt?" "It feels wonderful. Like the edge of heaven." "I had a boyfriend who would tell me it hurt." "To get you to touch it?" She nodded. "When it's like this, it needs to be touched." "I see." "But I'm touching it, so it feels good. So good." He sighed and stroked in silence for a minute, lightly running the fingertips of one hand from the bottom of his shaft to the top, then pausing to give the head a gentle squeeze before sliding them back down. They both breathed heavily, watching his hand and the drop of pre-cum it coaxed forth with every stroke. The drops formed a pool that might any moment overflow. She couldn't take her eyes from it. "I'm very close." "Don't yet." "I won't." He wanted to. "But I need to slow down, use more lube." "I'll get it." She turned and reached back to the bottle of lube on the nightstand. He held out his hand and she squeezed a large dollop into it. "Is that enough?" "Plenty. I can use some of my own too." He swiped the lubed hand down his shaft, then used a finger from his other hand to swirl the pre-cum across the head. "Mmm." "Does the lube make it less sensitive?" "Not at all. I love the sliding sensation. Feels more like a pussy." "Then why?" "I can go lighter with more lube. See?" He brushed his cock with the tip of one finger, drawing it through the slippery lube to the top of the head, then running it lightly around the edge. "Just the barest touch." "It's pretty that way. Shiny." "Do you find them visually appealing? Cocks?" He was toying with the head, a single finger dancing around, across, over. "Yours is beautiful." "Thank you." "I've never seen one so hard." "Because we've been working on it." She laughed. "I haven't done anything." "Believe me." She took a deep breath, hesitated. He waited for her to speak, moving a hand to his balls and sliding them through his slippery fingers, giving his pulsing head a break. "I'd like to help more. I mean, if I could." "You'd like to touch it?" She shook her head. "Not sure." He didn't say anything, waiting. "Can I lie down?" He nodded and she stretched out next to him on the bed, her legs brushing against his, her hair close enough to smell. Hesitantly she reached a hand towards his abdomen, hovering over it. "You can touch me anywhere. I won't mind." She made contact and his stomach tightened in response. "Be careful though. You don't want to make me cum." "Not yet." She rubbed her hand across his stomach. "You have beautiful abs." "A lot of situps." "Good muscle control must help. When you don't want to cum, I mean." "It might. Self control is more important. Look now. See how it jerks every time I get near the head? That's how close I am. The jerk is a warning." "I love when it does that." "Me too. Each spasm is like a mini-orgasm. Watch." He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the shaft and moved up and down quickly, applying pressure, until the head popped through the tight ring his fingers made. His cock jumped; his abs rippled. A moan came out of him. They waited, breathless. He exhaled slowly. "That was close." "I felt it." "Did you?" "Your whole body was tight. Trembling." "Too close. I can't get away with many of those." "Once more. For me." He shook his head. "I won't make it." She leaned into him and put her mouth against his ear. "Please. It's so hot." "Look at it. I'm not even touching it." His cock was dancing. As they watched another drop of pre-cum welled up. "I could cum right now." "Don't." "No." He reached over her for the lube and squeezed a line of it directly onto his cock. "Let me." She put a hand on him and together they spread the lube evenly over his cock, their hands twisting and twining together. "Like this?" "Just like this. Slowly." He guided her hand, keeping the pressure light and the stroke slow. When she had the rhythm he let go. He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "Perfect." She stroked. He moaned. She stroked more slowly and he moaned louder. She wrapped her fingers tight around his cock and jerked upward fast. He gasped. His hands grabbed for his cock as it popped free from her hand. He groaned--God. Jesus. Shit. Oh.-- as he squeezed the base. For a minute there was no sound but his dwindling sobs and the rasp of her breath against his ear. They watched the twitching subside together. "So hot," she said, touching the head with a single finger. He pushed his breath out hard. "I can't take much more of that. Time to make me cum." "Can I?" She scooted down the bed so her mouth was level with his stomach and stuck her tongue out to touch the tip of his cock. He put his hand on the back of her head. She dipped in further, swallowing the head and making him moan. "Be sure to tell me." "You'll know." He thrust his hips up as she swallowed him whole, licking her tongue around his shaft in a slow spiral. His hand on her head became more insistent and his other hand slid under her blouse to toy with her breast. "You're not supposed to touch me." "Sorry." He took his hand out from beneath her shirt. "This one too?" She nodded. He took his other hand off her head and put them both on the bedspread, fists closed tight. She began sucking him again. Mimicking the motion he'd taught her, she slid her mouth up his shaft to the head, then flicked her tongue over and around it before sliding back down. "God that's good." "Mmm." The sound came from deep in her throat. It vibrated against him making his cock twitch within her. "So close." She shifted so she was looking up at him. Her eyes asked a question he didn't answer. She went down again, moving more quickly and pressing harder with her tongue. Again, she stopped. Again, she waited. His eyes were shut and he didn't see her. His hips were twisting beneath her when she took him in fully once again. She used her hands along his shaft, moving in time with her tongue. She hummed as she went, feeling his cock and balls humming back against her lips and fingers. When she stopped again, he caved. "Do it." She did: diving, twisting, bobbing, slurping. "I'm cumming. I can't. Too late. Yes." With a final scream he pumped his hips. She ripped his cock from her mouth and watched as the jets of cum sprayed him, her, the bed beneath them, the wall behind them. It pumped endlessly, his cock giving a jerk with each spurt. She laid her head on his stomach and watched the final dribbles ooze out. "Geez, that was a lot." "It builds up." He was breathing hard, his cock still giving little jumps as though it might go off again. She ran a fingertip over her chin and scooped some cum into her mouth. "Good?" "Fun." She stood and went to her purse, took out a tissue and wiped her face. She offered him the pack. He shook his head. "I'll get a washcloth. You want one?" "I'm fine. I should go." She put the tissues back in her purse and straightened her blouse. She picked up the wine glass. "Let me walk you to the door." He sat up and reached for his boxers. "You don't need to." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. You earned it." "Will you come again?" "No." She paused. "Would you want me to?" "No. But it was--" "Great. I know. Me too." She carried the glass to the kitchen and put it in the sink. She let herself out the door, shutting it firmly behind her. In the bathroom, he ran a soapy washcloth over his stomach. They were both smiling. If you enjoyed this story, I'd love to hear from you. Feedback makes the time I spend writing stories worthwhile. Over the Edge "I can't believe you did that! What the hell am I going to do with you?" I yelled at my fiancee Joey as he stood in the kitchen. He had gotten pulled over and gotten his first DUI the other night and I was still fuming about it. Every time I would think I was starting to get over it, I would start to get angry all over again. I knew he was sorry but when I get worked up it just didn't matter. I could see him starting to get angry too and it just made me madder. What the hell right did he have to be angry? Yes, I was probably being a little unreasonable but I believed I had the right. We had been struggling financially since he opened his business and this was just another log on the fire. I'm not going to kid you and pretend that I am normally the sweet little housewife, I am stubborn to the point of fault, I hold a grudge for things I probably shouldn't and I am still used to having things my own way, considering how long I had been single before Joey and I moved in together. "I'm sorry! I fucked up, what do you want from me?" He yelled at me as he walked a little closer cornering me in our tiny kitchen. "I don't know! I don't know what I want from you anymore! I am tired of being broke, I'm tired of cleaning up after you, I'm tired of being in charge of you!" I screamed as I got in his face and dared him to do something about it. "I am the man in this relationship, and you better remember that. I fucked up, I'll give you that but I will take care of it." He got closer to me and looked down and I wondered if I had just gone too far. "The business is starting to pick up and you just need to fucking believe in me!" I hadn't seen this look in his eyes before. They were wild, and angry but there was something else there too. I felt a little tingle of fear as he pushed me back up against the counter and grabbed a fistful of my hair. "Now, you listen and you listen good. I am the man and I damn sure don't need you to take care of my fuck ups. I think it's time you had a lesson on who really wears the pants in this family." He hissed in my ear as he pulled my head back painfully. I froze, not quite sure what to do. He had never been this aggressive with me before and while I was a little scared, I was excited at the same time. I felt my pussy tingle a little at being completely at his mercy. I tried to fight back, telling him to knock it off and let me go. My anger at him keeping my strength up. He had to pull my neck back, and hold my wrist against my side. My other arm pinned by the counter. I bit his arm, the only part of him I could reach. (I wasn't going down without a fight!) He grunted and got a tighter grip on my hair, pulling my mouth away from his arm. He shoved his knee between my legs and made me spread them so he could stand between them, all the while holding my hair, keeping my neck in a painfully uncomfortable position. He reached between my legs and shoved my panties to the side before pushing two of his fingers deep inside my already wet pussy. He growled in my ear and bit the side of my neck. I struggled, trying to push him off of me but he was 200lbs of unmovable steel at this point. "Now, this is whats going to happen. I am going to fuck you till you can't stand up. You are going to get down on your knees and beg to suck my cock. You are going to bend over and spread your ass cheeks wide and plead with me to shove my cock in your tight little ass. I am going to spank that ass of yours hard because you have been a bad girl, and bad girls get punished." He spoke very slowly and menacingly as his fingers worked themselves in and out of me, making me catch my breath. I couldn't believe this was happening. This was my sensitive man, the man who serenades me when he wants to tell me he loves me and he was treating me like property. I loved it! His grip on my hair got tighter when I didn't respond right away and the pain made me gasp. "Do you understand?" He asked "Yes." I spat out at him, still not wanting to admit defeat. "Yes, What?" He asked as he bit down on my neck, then licking the same spot to take the pain away. "Yes, sir." I gasped as his fingers moved up to stroke my clit. I couldn't believe how turned on I was at that point. I wanted him to bend me over right here and fuck me. I felt like I was burning up from the heat coming from my pussy. He pushed me up on the counter and pushed my leg roughly up so he had easier access and could get deeper with his fingers. I could see his erection straining against his pants. His other hand let go of my sore head and moved to my breasts. He slid his hand under my nightshirt and squeezed my nipples hard, before running his hands over them. My breath quickened and my nipples got hard as he pulled on them. He pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me in nothing but my thong and him fully dressed. Bending over he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking harder than he ever had and making me stop breathing. It hurt but I loved it and I wanted more. I pushed his head down onto my nipple to try and make him keep his mouth there and he pulled up. "No you don't. You will not control this. You are going to do exactly what I tell you and nothing more. Every time you disobey the rules you will be punished." He said as he pulled me down off the counter and turned me around, exposing my large round ass to his view. SMACK! My ass felt like it was on fire as his rough, calloused hand left an impression on my cheek. SMACK! Again, and again. Back and forth between cheeks he slapped. "I'm Sorry! I won't disobey again! Please!" I cried as the pain started to get to me. It seemed to placate him as he started to rub the raw spots on my ass, soothing the pain away. I felt the juices from my pussy starting to drip down my thigh, tickling the sensitive skin. My whole body felt alive in a way that it hadn't before. He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom, a short walk in our tiny apartment. He dropped me on the bed and stood there. "Take my clothes off." He commanded while his eyes roamed my almost naked body. "Yes, sir." I replied, wanting to please him I got seductively on my hands and knees and crawled closer. I started to undo his jeans when he grabbed my wrists and stopped me. "Not like that, use your teeth." He growled Eager to make him happy, I undid his button pulled his zipper down with my teeth. The loose pants fell to the floor leaving him in just his T-shirt and boxer briefs. His cock looked harder than I had ever seen it, pushing against the soft fabric of his underwear. He took over and slid them down his slender hips and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. His cock bounced up and down, pulsating and I went to take it into my mouth when...SMACK! His hand came down on my ass again, burning the already sensitive flesh. "Beg me." He said, squeezing the flesh he had just slapped. "Please, let me suck your cock! Please? I want to taste your cum in my mouth like the dirty little girl I am!" He nodded and grabbed my hair, shoving my mouth onto his cock. He pushed it down so deep in my throat I gagged but I wanted more. I licked along his shaft as he fucked my throat, moaning in pleasure every time I gagged. "Can't bitch at me when your throat is full of my cock, can you?" he asked while he shoved his cock in and held my head there, cutting off my air. I yearned to breath but I wanted to keep him cock in my throat as long as I could. I gasped when he pulled back and starting sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow. He let go of my hair and his hands started roaming my body, touching me in all the places he knows I love. He knows I love his hands and the way they feel on my skin. "Turn around." He said softly and I eagerly complied, wanting nothing more than to feel that cock inside me. "Please sir, fuck me. I need your cock in me, now. Please." I begged, all pride gone. I cared nothing for anything except satisfaction at this point. I had never been so turned on in my life and I considered our normal sex life to be pretty satisfying. I couldn't believe I was there on my hands and knees begging! "Is this what you want?" He said, rubbing the head of his cock against my sopping wet opening. Teasing me, rubbing against my clit then down and up against my asshole and back down to my clit. "Yes, please fuck my pussy." I was almost to the point I couldn't take it anymore. My ass was sore and burning and my skin felt electric. The very air was an irritation, my skin was so sensitive. "Stick your ass up." He said and pushed my head down onto the bed. I waited breathlessly as his hands moved gently down my back and rested on my hips. He pulled me towards him and shoved his huge cock into my pussy, hard. I screamed at the feeling of being filled up so completely. He hit bottom and it hurt but I didn't care. I pleaded with him to fuck me hard, use me, hurt me, I didn't care. He pulled back and shoved back in just as hard, pulling out slowly. He continued that for a few minutes, ramming into me and pulling back slowly. It was torture. "What am I?" He said as his cock shoved into my dripping pussy. "You are the man. I'm sorry! I need punished! Please teach me a lesson!" I cried as he shoved his cock back and and shoved his finger into my ass at the same time. I wasn't ready for it and it hurt but it caused the sensation of his cock to be that much more acute. I was close to cumming and he starting fucking me hard and fast. In and out with both his cock and his finger. The feeling was so intense all I could do was remember to breath. I started urging him on, using language I didn't normally use. Telling him to use me like a filthy slut, I was his slut, please punish me. On and on it went until he shoved a second finger in my ass sending me over the edge. My climax was incredible, the world went black as my body shook with the waves of pleasure. I felt my body start to relax when he pulled out. I limply fell flat on the bed. "Suck my cock." He ordered, breathing heavy. I complied but it must not have been fast enough because he smacked my ass again, harder this time. I cried out as he grabbed my hair again, my scalp sore and aching and shoved his cock into my mouth again. Fucking my mouth, none too gently I heard his breathing get irregular and felt his cock swell in my mouth. As I tasted the first shot of his cum he pulled out and came on my face. It scorched my skin as it dripped down my cheek. My tongue shot out to lick it off and he shoved his cock back in my mouth instructing me to drink every drop. I sucked frantically, loving the taste of his cum. He pulled back when the sensitivity got to be too much. Breathing hard, he stood there looking down on me. The anger was gone from his face but the lust and determination was still there. His cock hadn't softened that much and was still staring me in the face. "What would you like me to do now?" I asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. My ass had taken quite a beating! "Stand up." That's all he said, even when I gave him a slightly confused look. He grabbed my upper arms when I got up off the bed and shoved me against the wall hard. He kissed me and it was almost brutal in its intensity, the taste of him and me in our mouths as our tongues almost fought. I grabbed a hold of him and my nails scored the skin on his back, drawing a growl from deep in his throat. He grabbed my wrists and held them high over my head, forcing me up against him. My aching nipples rubbing against the hair on his chest. He kept my wrists up with one hand and pulled one of my legs up around him with the other. Guiding his cock to the mark, he shoved back into my sore pussy. Pounding in and out, I knew this wasn't going to be quick either. I felt helpless and completely in his power. He let go briefly and spun me around, pushing me against the wall with his hand on the back of my neck. "Spread your ass for me baby." He said as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin on my neck and shoulders. I had no choice, I did what I was told. I reached back and spread the cheeks of my ass wide, the embarrassment of being so exposed poignant. I knew it was silly but I felt more exposed than I ever had before. "Beg me." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot on my face. I knew what he wanted me to ask for but there was still a part of me that didn't want to give in so completely. I remained silent hoping that it would be enough but I felt his hand come down hard on my ass and it made me cry out. Again and again, and I knew it would continue until I did as he asked. "Please fuck my ass. I want your cock in my asshole! Cum in my tight little ass, please!" I pleaded. His hand stilled on my ass cheek, caressing almost gently. I felt the head of his cock press against my ass and slowly enter, slippery from his cum and mine. He pushed in until all of his hard cock was deep inside me and his body was pressed up against mine. His hand still held my neck and the wall pressed against my breasts almost painfully. He stopped for a minute, breathing hard, letting me adjust to the presence of his cock in my ass. I couldn't move and could barely breath. The room was charged with the scent of arousal. He slowly pulled out, stretching my ass to its limit before shoving back in. He reached in front of me and rubbed my clit insistently, as he worked his cock in and out of my ass. I felt another orgasm building and I knew I was helpless to stop it. I gave over to the feeling and started pushing back against him. Urging him to take my ass hard, to cum in my tight little asshole I cried out as a powerful orgasm crashed through me. Weakly I leaned against the wall, feeling the after math of my climax, my muscles clenching tightly on his cock. He started fucking me faster and harder, my head banging against the wall until he cried out. "Oh god yes, fuck, yes I'm cumming." He yelled as he emptied his second load of the night deep into my ass. Sweating profusely, we just leaned there for a moment trying to catch our breath from the intense session we just had. His cock slowly softened and pulled out of my ass. He let go of me and I slid down to the floor, exhausted. He sat down next to me and gently kissed me. The dominance was gone for the moment but the memory was still there. We crawled from the floor and into the cool sheets on the bed. Laying there quietly for a moment, I wasn't quite sure what to say. "It's nice not to be in charge sometimes isn't it?" He chuckled softly. "Maybe occasionally. Just keep in mind, its your turn next." I threatened. "And payback is a bitch." To be continued... Over the Edge "Hi Jackie will you be teaching your class at the gym this evening?" I paused and looked around to see the speaker. It was Ronald Mills my neighbour who had only recently moved into my apartment building. He had only been living in the building for two weeks but we manage to run into each other several time a day. "I am sorry Ronald but we won't be having any classes for the next two weeks due to the holidays. Classes won't start back before next year." I could see the disappointment on his face. He had been really going out of his way to talk with me over the last few days. When I told him I was a fitness instructor he immediately told me he would come to my next class. I was really flattered by all of the attention he had been giving me since moving in to the apartment across the hall from mine. I had just turned forty and my husband Ian seemed to have entered some kind of twilight zone. I was beginning to wonder if I had become invisible. My girlfriend Cheryl had been dropping some hints which I was deliberately ignoring. Ian was not the cheating type. I was sure there was some other explanation for Ian's lack of interest in me recently. He had never been overly physical but this was definitely a dry spell for us bedroom wise. "I am meeting my friend Cheryl at the gym in about an hour. If you want to come by and use the equipment, I could arrange that for you." I could see the look of excitement on Ronald's face. I tried to keep a poker face to hide the fact that I was so fucking horny and needed a man to fuck me really hard and long. But what is a woman suppose to do with such feelings. I certainly could not just broadcast it to a near stranger that my husband had not fucked me for three months and I was desperate for a hard cock between my legs. I squeezed my legs together as I felt the walls in my pussy begin to contract. I had never really looked at Ronald closely before. That happens when you have been married for a while. You tend to stop looking at men especially at their crotch area. Ronald must have noticed my stare because he smiled and ever so seductively allowed his hand to pass over his covered cock. I searched in my bag and fished out a business card. "The Gym is quiet easy to find after to reach the city. Just look for the pink building with the two large nude statues on James Street. Come up the stairs between the statues and you will find me." Ronald reached out to take the card but I could not help but notice how his fingers lingered against mine as he took the card. I needed to get far from this man and quickly. Ronald looked good and god he smelled like something I would love to get my mouth on. I could see myself sitting on this man face rubbing my cunt all over his mouth as my hand reached back to caress his hard cock. This was not supposed to be happening. I am good girl who teaches Sunday school every Sunday. Good girl or not, I knew what I was feeling. I wanted to fuck my neighbour and I wanted to do it really soon and really bad. I had to go find Cheryl and talk this shit over with her. Cheryl was bad to the bone but she still managed to offer me some great advice especially where sex was concerned. "Ok Ronald I have to go now but I will be looking for you later at the Gym." Ronald was actually holding my hand as I turned to walk away. He just let my fingers slowly slip from his grasp. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. I was glad I had chosen to wear my black tight that morning. His eyes could feast on my big ass as I walked away. Ok so I am an undercover freak who needs a good fuck. I will admit to that. Turning forty has not helped me much. My desire for good hard cock has gotten greater these days. At the rate I am going my two vibrators will report me for vibrator abuse. I am wearing those things out. I wish someone would sit my husband down and tell him that a woman in her forties is not ready for retirement. Shit my gloves were on and I was ready to take on any opponents who took to the ring with me. I was becoming a little concern because lately I have been forced to deal with some thoughts that are a little unsettling. Cheryl is openly bisexual and has been trying to encourage me to try out a few of her girlfriends. Truth be told, if I were to fuck another woman it would have to be Cheryl. To date, all we have ever done is kiss but curiosity is growing daily and I must admit, I am warming up to the idea. I am finally beginning to understand why middle age women end up fucking young boys. In our forties we are at the peak of our sexual desire. Our husbands or men, who tend to be a little older, are in a state of decline sexually or they are busy chasing after younger ass. The net result of these sexual dynamics is a huge number of very horny middle age women who would fuck the crack of dawn it they could. So now you know why sex shop cannot keep their stock of vibrators and dildos for very long. I actually witnessed two women fighting for the last vibrator in a store recently. I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I almost missed my stop as the bus neared the area where I would disembark. I hated working in the city especially at this time of the year when every Barbadian seemed to have an inexplicable urge to be in the city. The vehicular and human traffic was just too much for me. What made thing worse in the city was an extended drought period affecting the island and the rest of the Caribbean. The heat was becoming unbearable. We were already into the month of December but so far none of the cold breeze from up north seemed to be cooling down the island. The government was trying its best to get citizens to conserve water because there were reports that the water tables on the islands were critically low. Rain predictions for June to November had proven to be incorrect. I don't think we had more than two rainy days for the entire rainy season. Everyone was hoping for a season of wetness before the year ended and the dry season went into high gear again. I had agreed to meet Cheryl at 9:00. It was much quicker for me to get off the bus and walk into the city. Side streets would also help me avoid much of the human crush than descended on the city around the end of the year. I looked at my watch. I would be late this morning. Cheryl was already in the room we used as an office at the gym. She was wearing unusually tight stretched jeans that complimented her hips, ass, and athletic legs very well. She wore a shot white blouse that exposed her navel ring which she was quite proud to display as often as she could. "You look like you have seen a ghost Jackie. What happen to you that you looking so out of sorts?" I guess my face was telling a story and Cheryl was reading the headlines. I wonder what she was seeing. Maybe my face was saying, "Horny wife wants to fuck young neighbour." "This shit is becoming unbearable. I need a good fuck and I need it like yesterday. I am too old for all these head and belly aches. I need some hard cock between my legs or I will simply go crazy." I sat next to Cheryl with one leg resting on the side of sofa which we use to catch some sleep when we were needed it. If this sofa could talk I am sure it would have many dark tales to tell about Cheryl and some of the lovers she fuck in the office. I reached between my legs squeezing my hot crotch. "God I need a man to fuck me long and hard." Cheryl started laughing as she watched me squeezing my hot crotch through my tights. I grabbed her hand and placed it between my legs. "Feel for yourself just how hot my cunt is Cheryl." Cheryl laughter ended abruptly as her hand made contact with the material covering my smouldering pussy. My cunt juices had soaked through my panty making my entire crotch region very wet. "My god Jackie you are gushing like a pipe. I can feel the wetness through your tights." I had finally crossed the line with Cheryl and it had happened so fast and so innocently that we hardly seemed to have noticed reaching that point of no return. I rested back on the sofa and closed my eyes savouring the soft touch of Cheryl skilful fingers as they caressed the outlines of my wet cunt through my tights and panty. There was no turning back for me now. I needed some sexual release and Cheryl was up to the task of giving me what I needed at that moment. It was a case of any port for a storm and the winds were blowing like a mother fucker over my ship. "Let's get this tights and panty off so I can cool down this wet tight cunt of yours hun." I loved the way Cheryl called me hun and the fact that she was not giving me any opportunity to change my mind. She knelt before me working my tights and panty down to my ankles. I was still wearing my jogging shoes so she simply left my tights and panty by my ankles as she slowly worked her way back up my legs with her eager tongue. It seemed like years since I had felt another person's hand or lips working my body teasing and exciting me. I was in no mood to be teased however. I grabbed Cheryl's head and pulled her mouth to my throbbing cunt. "Suck me Cheryl. I want to feel your wet tongue sliding in and out my cunt baby." I heard the words and knew that they came from my lips but that could not have been me. After all I was the one who use to give Cheryl grief about her alternate lifestyle. I was the one who use to say I could never see myself eating another woman's pussy. But as Cheryl's expert tongue and fingers explored my pulsating cunt I realized that I was now a convert. I wanted to do everything Cheryl had told me about in the past. I arched my back up off the sofa as Cheryl's thick lips surrounded my clit drawing it out and exposing the tip to the fierce assault of her tongue. "Oh Shit! Oh shit! That feels so fucking good baby. You are hitting my spot as only another woman could. Don't stop baby. Make me cum so fucking hard that the green men on mars will hear me screaming." Cheryl grabbed my legs as she firmly planted her mouth on my crotch. I was not going to escape her loving embrace. She intended to lock on to my clit and take me for a ride on the roller coaster of ecstasy. Unlike a roller coaster however this ride was taking me higher and higher and I was beginning to lose it. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I am cumming Cheryl. I am cumming harder than I have ever cum in my life before." Maybe it was the fact that I was super horny or maybe it was the fact that I was grinding my wet cunt against another woman mouth and face. None of that really mattered. I felt trapped in a cross current of pure pleasure and passion and I exploded. I arched my back and started beating the sofa as I came. Cheryl did her best to keep her mouth locked on to my clit as torrents of pleasure seem to invade every cell in my body. I felt as though tiny bolts of electricity were being released all over my body. I reached up and grabbed Cheryl's head pulling her more firmly against my cunt as I collapsed back on to the sofa totally exhausted. We were both silent for a while. Cheryl knelt on the floor between my legs savouring her handiwork and no doubt feeling quite please with herself. It had taken her less than five minutes to give me the most earth shaking body convulsing, pussy exploding orgasm I had ever experienced. So this was what all the hype was about. I can't really say that the sensation of having a woman suck my pussy was all that much different from having a man suck me but the psychology of the experience was definitely different. The taboo nature of the experience and my Christian upbringing combined to create some kind of disconnect in my psyche. I felt as though a wall had been torn down in my spirit and something new and dynamic had rushed into fill the vacuum left by the demolished wall. A new element was surging inside me and it was clamouring for expression and for exploration. Maybe this was how possession felt. Something internal was pushing me further down the path I had embarked upon. My orgasm had depleted me but I was never one for half hearted measures. Cheryl had pleasured me and I wanted to give her back some of what she had given me. From previous conversations I knew that Cheryl liked to dominate her girlfriends. She loved to stand over her kneeling lover and grind her pussy against her lover's mouth. "You have tasted my pussy now I want to taste yours." Cheryl smiled as she stood up. My hand wrestled with her tight jeans trying to slide the material down to her ankles. She kicked her shoes off allowing me to pull her jeans completely off. She was wearing a red lacy T-string that snaked its way into the lips of her cunt. Cheryl threw one leg over my shoulder and grabbed the back of my head pulling my face into her crotch. Her movements were gentle at first but as my tongue worked its way around her clit she became more frantic. "Damn Jackie. You are a naturally great cunt sucker. Keep up what you are doing and I will be cumming all over your face in a few seconds." I did not want Cheryl to cum so quickly. It was my first cunt licking experience and I wanted to savour the experience. I moved away from her clit allowing my tongue to trace the contours of her pussy lips. I playfully ran my tongue all over the lips of her cunt as she tried in vain to get my tongue back on to her clit. "I was almost there baby but you moved away from my clit. Put your tongue back on my clit and make me cum." I must admit that I am quite a tease and I love to build up desire before satisfying it. I reached between Cheryl's legs spreading her pussy lips. I slowly pushed my tongue as far as it would extend into her pussy. With my tongue up Cheryl's snatch I could taste all her juices as my tongue slid in and out her wet cunt. Cheryl reached down and started rubbing her clit as I tongue fucked her pussy. "Push a finger up my ass baby. I want to feel your finger up my ass." I placed one of my fingers in my mouth coating it with my saliva then inched my saliva covered finger up Cheryl's tight asshole. She gasped when my finger probed deeper and deeper up her tight ass channel. As my tongue worked its way back to Cheryl's clit she pull up the flesh above her cunt fully exposing her clit to my tongue. "Fuck! That is it baby Right there! You are hitting my spot. Keep sucking right there. Yesssss." What happen next caught me by surprise. I am no prude but this was just over the top. As Cheryl stated to cum she simultaneously started pissing all over my face. I felt like a deer hypnotized by the glare of an approaching vehicle. There was no escaping the hot liquid that gushed out her already drenched pussy. As the pungent smell hit my nostrils I tried to back away but Cheryl kept my head in place between her legs as she both came and pissed all over my face. In less than fifteen minutes I had sucked my first pussy and had been rewarded for my efforts with a golden shower. "I am so sorry Jackie but I don't know what came over me. I started to cum and I just lost control of everything in that region. I did not mean to piss on you like that." It was hard to tell if she was genuinely sorry or if this was part of the game she played with her lovers. "It was not that bad even though I got some of your piss in my mouth." The crappy thing is that I had swallowed Cheryl's piss mixed with her cunt juice and my saliva. I could have spat the mixture out of my mouth onto the floor but for some perverse reason I swallowed it. This was some crazy shit. It dawned on us that Cheryl had just pissed on the floor of our little office. We were not having any classes but this was something that should not have happened. It dawned on me that I was going to have a problem. I was still wearing my bra and T-shirt which were no longer in road worthy condition. We were not doing any training so I had not bothered to bring a change of clothing. Cheryl could give me a ride home but we would still have to walk to the car park and that would mean having to mingle with the crowd in the city. We were going to be at the gym for a while so I figured I could wash and dry my bra and T-shirt before we were ready to leave for the day. "We had better do something about this piss on the floor before the smell fills up the room." Cheryl headed towards the bathroom to get the mop and mop bucket. I searched around in my bag for some soap and a wash cloth. Cheryl was on her way back to the office when I entered the bath room to wash my soiled clothing and to bathe as best as I could at the bathroom sink. My tights had not been soiled but I stripped down to my panty and busied myself with washing. I could still feel the muscles in my pussy contracting. I was still feeling horny as hell so I just squeezed my legs together trying to get a little relief from the sweet itch I was feeling in my crotch. I allowed my imagination to run wild. In my fantasy world Cheryl came into the bathroom and grabbed me from behind. She pushed me over so I was bent and holding on to the sink. I imagined the lips of my cunt opening and something firm sliding into my pussy channel. Watching women fucking each other with dildoes in porn movies was always a big turn on for me. I imagined Cheryl's hands taking hold of my breasts and squeezing my nipples very hard as she rammed my pussy with her strap on cock. I rested my hands on the sink and pushed my ass back to add greater realism to my fantasy. I must have been really deep into my world of fantasy because I did not hear the bathroom door open. At first I thought it was Cheryl who had come to return the mop and bucket to the bathroom. The silence behind me however made me a little suspicious so I turned around to see what was going on. "Damn whatever you were thinking about I wish I were involved in some way." I had completely forgotten about Ronald. I could not believe that Cheryl had sent him to the bathroom when she knew I was washing my clothes and that I was practically naked. I had nothing to cover myself with so I just went back to washing as though the situation was the most natural thing in the world. "Don't let me stop you from using the bathroom if you must. Just act as though I am not here." I wondered what was going through his mind as he walked over to the toilet bowl and unzipped his pants. I waited until I heard water hitting water before stealing a glance at Ronald's cock. The hardness of his cock served as a good index of the kinds of thoughts going through his head. I watched as the yellow stream of piss shot out the tip of his erect cock. His piss was flying all over the bowl. I figured it must be more difficult for men to control their piss when their cocks are as hard as Ronald's was at the moment. "Would you like some help Ronald? You seem to be having a hard time hitting the target." Ronald looked at me and smiled. "It is hard to control the flow with my cock this hard. Maybe if you came and held it that may help." I wash my hands and walked behind Ronald. "Hey it looks as though you are finish pissing." Ronald shook his head as the stream of piss started to flow again. I held Ronald's cock and tried to direct the flow of piss into the centre of the bowl but it was just flying everywhere. "What is wrong with your cock Ronald? I have seen men piss before and there is just one stream coming out which flow in a single direction. Piss seems to be coming out your cock from every angle." I started stroking Ronald's cock but that only seem to make the problem worse. I placed a finger at the tip of Ronald's cock temporarily blocking the flow of his urine. I moved my finger allowing the warm liquid to flow over my fingers and into the bowl. Over the Edge "You seem to have a bad pissing dysfunction Ronald. I am going to have to give your cock a thorough examination when you are done pissing." I waited until Ronald was done then I pulled him over to the sink. I soaped up the washcloth I intended to bathe with and began washing the head of Ronald's cock. "You have a very nice cock Ronald. I am going to enjoy giving this cock a good test run to make sure everything is working well." The day was turning out way much better than I could have hoped for. My best friend Cheryl had just sucked my cunt and made me cum real hard now I was here in the bathroom on my knees with my young neighbour's cock in my hand. "You have a very sexy body Jackie. This morning when you walked away I stood up there staring at your ass and wondering what it would be like to fuck you." I smiled at the realization that young men like Ronald still found me attractive enough to fantasize about me. "I am flattered Ronald but I am sure you have seen better. I am your neighbour remember. I see some of those young things you bring home from time to time." Ronald laughed. Ronald had a preference for girls in their teens. The last girl I had seen him with was still attending our local high school. I suspected that she had ditched school to spend the day with him. "I guess we share something in common considering that I am much younger than you are." Ronald had a point. I was his senior by more than a decade and a half. I knew Ronald was in his was in his early twenties. He had let the cat out the bag slightly by telling me that he would be a quarter of a century in a few years. I brought my mouth to the tip of his cock and started licking the head. Ronald unbuckled his bet and allowed me to wrestle his pants and underwear to the floor. I cupped his balls in my hands as I slowly covered his throbbing cock with my wet lips. "Oh yes Jackie. You are sucking my cock exactly the way I imagined you would." Sucking cock was always one of my strengths. I had learned early that there are two things that men love when a woman is sucking cock. Vigorous movement of the lips and mouth over the head of the cock coupled with steady and firm stroking with the hands will do the trick almost every time. My objective however was not to make Ronald cum in my mouth. I wanted him to bend me over by the sink and ram every inch of his cock into my hungry pussy. His breathing and body action told me that I needed to stop sucking him if we were going to get to the fucking stage. Ronald seemed reluctant for me to stop but when I stood and bent over the sink with my ass rotating seductively before him he got the picture and stepped up to the plate like a real man. "I need this Ronald so don't be gentle with me. Ram my pussy as hard as you can. I want a good, hard fuck baby." Another secret I learned many years ago is that men love women who are real slut in bed. We were not in a bed but I was prepared to be the kind of slut that Ronald would not forget for a long time. My neighbour was going to have to stand in for my husband so I need to give him the fuck of his young life to make sure that his cook would be available to me in the future. "Come on Ronald. Fuck this pussy like it owes you money and you come to collect." I started pushing my ass back onto Ronald's cock really hard. Every time he slammed into my ass I could feel his cock tunnelling deeper into my ravenous cunt. "Slap my ass and treat me like I am your little bitch Ronald." Ronald grabbed my hair with one hand and started slapping my ass with the other. I had successfully pushed him into the lust zone and he was beginning to lose control. "Oh god your pussy feel so good Jackie. I want more. Aghhhhhhhhhhhhh. I am cumming. I am cumming." This was music to my ears. Ronald had done well to have survived for more than five minutes with me in the mood I was in. I am not bragging but I do have the ability to make most men cum in less than three minutes. I was so much into what I was doing with Ronald that I did not even notice Cheryl standing at the door with her hand in her pants rubbing her own cunt when she watched us. My head was below the mirror but I was certain that Ronald would have been able to see Cheryl playing with her pussy in the mirror. I am yet to meet a normal man who is not turned on by the sight of a woman fingering her own pussy. I am a woman and that shit makes my pussy wet. "Now that you two are done some assistance would be appreciated." I pushed Ronald down to his knees as Cheryl came over and threw one leg over his shoulder. I placed my hand behind Roger's head and pushed it roughly into Cheryl's crotch. I cupped Cheryl's ass cheeks in my hands then ran a finger between the cheeks of her ass. I slipped a finger in her wet pussy then slipped my pussy juice coated finger into Cheryl's ass hole. "Finger my ass hole while he sticks his tongue deep in my pussy." Cheryl must have been close to an orgasm because she closed her eyes and I could feel all the muscles in her ass contracting. Maybe she was trying to prevent a repeat of what had happened earlier. "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit. I am almost there. Bite my clit and make me cum." Ronald did exactly as he was told and bit into Cheryl's clit. He must have applied too much pressure with his teeth because Cheryl tried to pull away but the sensation must have pushed her over the edge as well. "Jesus Christ, that feels so fucking good. I am cumming. I am cumming." Cheryl held onto the back of Ronald's head and started grinding her cunt against Ronald's mouth and face. I felt her ass muscles contracting around my finger as she came for the second time in less than fifteen minutes. We had an entire morning ahead of us and there were so many other things I wanted to do with my new lover. Cheryl may have been bisexual but she enjoyed a good fuck as well. Over the coming month we were going to share Ronald as we explored every erotic desire we could conceive. Outside the weather had changed. Dark clouds had gathered over the city and the rain was beginning to fall. There had been no rain in Barbados for months. I smiled at the irony of the situation. I had been suffering from a cock drought and the rains had come like a harbinger of the fact that it was wet season for my pussy once again. Over the Edge It was just another day in Kayden's life. Unable to continue her education due to rising costs and lack of scholarships, she had taken a semester off to go to work as a dental assistant. She didn't much care for the job, but she figured that since the pay was good and it would look good on a resume for when applying to medical school, she could stick it out. The only real problem was the dentist she worked for, Dr. Tagget. She had gone to him since she was a child and always hated the experience. She can remember him being the worst people person that there ever was. While having him for a dentist was bad enough, having him for a boss was like a living hell. The man treated every single employee like dirt, and refused to believe that anyone besides himself in the office was capable of making any decision, no matter how basic they may be. He was also an extreme sexist, and other than the receptionist, Kayden was the only female employee. Tagget would take every opportunity to berate her gender and point out that she was not very attractive. The word many would use to describe him was "pig." Kayden was on her last strings with the man. She agreed with him that she was not very attractive. She looked more like a kid in middle school. She was only five feet tall, thin as a board, and pale. Her dark brown hair was usually in a mess, and what Tagget considered her worst trait, she only had A cup breasts. She had also been referred to as "homely" in the past. Kayden saw herself as the ugly duckling ever since she and all of her friends had gone through puberty. As a little girl, she had always dreamed of looking like a model, and having men drool all over her. This did not turn out to be the case. While she did not see herself as beautiful, she was tired of Dr. Tagget berating her. She would always be ready to quit first thing in the morning when walking through the front door of the office, but the thought of her finishing her undergraduate degree and getting into medical school would stop her. She knew that if she could just put up with him for one more month, then she would have enough money to finally quit and return to school. This proved to be her motivation, and kept her from going insane around him. On what could have been any other normal day, Kayden walked through the front door thirty minutes before the office opened. She was dressed in a light blue blouse, khaki pants, and black high heels, all covered by her white lab coat. While she herself wasn't beautiful, she would always wear beautiful clothes to feel pretty. As usual, Tagget would make a stupid remark about her appearance and then the day would start. It was a normal day in the work nothing strange about the appointments. At the end of the day, everyone went home except for Kayden and Dr. Tagget. It was the last Wednesday of the month, which was the day when Tagget and one employee would stay late to do inventory. Kayden proved to be the month's victim of having to spend extra time with the pig. The task went along with no problems until it came to checking the tanks of nitrous oxide. Tagget became enraged, shouting that they were one tank short. He turned to Kayden and pointed his finger at her, accusing her of the theft. She stated that she had absolutely zero reason to steal the tank and that she would never do something as demeaning as theft. He refused to listen, stating that she had probably taken it to some frat party to get everyone high. Despite her pleas, he announced that it would cost her a whole months pay and that she was fired. He then walked down the hall to his office and shut the door. Kayden was furious with the man. He had fired her just like that. She hadn't even taken the tank, and it cost her money and the job. Plus, if reported, she could kiss any hopes of medical school goodbye. Tears of fury were rolling down her face, and she was sweating with rage. She began screaming out, cursing Tagget and calling him just about any name that she could think of. In the middle of the outburst, began to clutch her stomach and fell to the ground in agony. She immediately picked herself up off the ground, and managed to stand up. She still felt strange, but there was no more pain. That is when she noticed that her clothes began feeling tighter. She could not see how they were shrinking, it seemed impossible. Yet they were feeling tighter and tighter. She could see that the buttons on her blouse seemed to be under great pressure. Her feet were hurting as her shoes began to feel like they were meant for a little kid. Everything was tighter and she had no idea how her clothes could be shrinking. Suddenly, she exclaimed "My clothes aren't shrinking! I'M GROWING!" At that same moment, the buttons on her blouse flew off and she heard them hitting the floor. Her feet burst through the straps on her heels, and she kicked them off of her growing feet. It did not stop there. Soon, the legs on her pants, which were so tight she felt like circulation to her legs was being cut off, began to rip straight up the middle and came up higher on her legs. Underneath her lab coat, she could feel her growing arms bursting through the sleeves of her blouse. Soon they were pressing themselves against the sleeves of the coat, and they began ripping the sleeves open. She could also swear that the sleeves were riding up her arm. She almost felt like she was getting taller. She heard a rip coming from her backside. She could feel the coat and blouse had been getting tighter, and she figured that the backs of the two articles were tearing open to provide room for her growing body. The seat of her pants felt the same way. She felt as they split open to expose her growing ass. Her bra had also become extremely uncomfortable. She couldn't breathe because it was so tight. Finally, after exhaling one deep breath, the bra burst open, and out flew giant breasts, something that Kayden never thought she would get to have. She suddenly felt the growth stop just as fast as it had started. Kayden simply stood there in her shredded clothes. She was wondering what had happened and why she was bigger. She looked at herself and immediately thought that she had to find a mirror to see what she now looked like. Fortunately, there was one in the waiting room. As she walked there, she noticed that she had to duck every time she walked under a doorway. When she reached the waiting room, she turned on the lights and gasped at what she saw in the mirror. Her short brown hair was now long red hair that shined and flowed down to her chest, and her pale skin now had a deep tan. She was much taller; as she estimated, she was now at least seven feet tall. Her feet were huge, and she was extremely muscular. Her homely face now had the features of a supermodel. She looked in awe at herself, finally realizing that she was as beautiful as she had always dreamed. She soon had to get a good look at the rest of her body. She immediately tore off the remains of her lab coat, and got a good look at her new arms. Her muscles were huge, and as she flexed them, she thought she would be able to lift the receptionist's desk with ease. She then threw off her torn blouse and ripped off the small bra that still managed to cling to her. Her upper body was impressive. She had gone from a girl with a practically flat chest to one who was very busty. Her breasts were now DDD cups at least, if not bigger. She felt how hard they were, and took joy in seeing them bounce as she flexed her pecs. She was delighted to see that she had six pack abs, and loved the washboard feel of them. Next, she was tearing off what was left of her pants and underwear to see what happened to her legs. Kayden was in awe at how long her legs were now, not to mention her muscular thighs. She giggled as she started squatting and watched the veins in her legs pop out. She turned around, and got a view at an ass that would make any hip hop model jealous. It was clear that Kayden was a totally different person. As she stood there naked looking at herself in the mirror, she was perplexed. While she knew that she was Kayden, it was almost like she had been given a new body. The woman in the mirror shared absolutely nothing with the girl she had been. She wondered how it could have happened. Several questions were racing through her head. Eventually, she came to her final conclusion: she didn't care how it happened, all she knew was that now not only was she smoking hot, but she was ripped as well. Her admiration of herself soon shifted to her anger at Tagget. She had just been fired for something that she didn't do, and was not about to let him get away with that. She walked back to his office and knocked on the door announcing herself. He called her a thief once again and yelled at her to go away. That is when she tested her new strength by giving the door a good punch, busting it into pieces. Tagget was in awe. Instead of seeing the same Kayden he had seen time after time, he saw a naked, hulking woman driven by fury. He demanded to know what had happened to her, and Kayden immediately said that he needed to be more concerned about what was going to happen to him. He tried to run, but she managed to grab him and threw him straight through the wall into the dental chair. She took some hose from a tank of nitrous oxide and tied him down. She had given him a front row seat to witness her new power. She destroyed everything that was in the office. She exclaimed that it would cost him a fortune to rebuild the damage that she had done there. Then she grabbed the chair Tagget was tied to and began to fold it in half. He was helpless as she basically turned him into a taco. He passed out from the pain, and Kayden smiled that she had gotten her revenge. She then walked outside into the darkness. She was now to huge to fit into her small car, and she did not feel like walking all the way to her house naked. She walked down the highway, waiting for someone willing to drive a goddess like herself home. Over the Edge Reader: If you're looking for a stroke story, this would probably disappoint you. It's not about fucking, but the story does contain sexual elements. Because it involves public nudity, I've entered it in the Nude Day contest. If you finish the story (all two pages!) and want to vote or comment, that would be appreciated. Thank you for stopping by. I met her at an art gallery. What, you ask? An art gallery? Yes, an art gallery. Were else can a guy go to stare at life-sized nude women without having to pay a ten dollar cover? She wasn't nude, she was fully dressed, a tall skinny straggler in a group of college students on the guided tour. I've always liked the combat-boots-with-a-dress look, which is why I may have been accidentally following her, waiting for an opportunity to strike up a quick conversation. It's not something I normally do, but there was an undeniable magnetism drawing me to her. The long stringy hair, hunched shoulders and anxious laugh were a dead giveaway. She had "no boyfriend" written all over her freckled face. Seeing as how I had "no girlfriend" written all over mine, I assumed we'd be a perfect match. "I like the blue part," I said, inching closer to her without invading her space. The painting we were looking at was pretty horrible; garish colors and freakish angles colliding in a headache-inducing jumble, but art is, after all, subjective "The blue part?" she said, an amused quality in her voice. "Yes, the blue. It's... um" Now I was stumped. I'm no art critic, but I had to say something. "The blue is so... you know, transparent, but yet heavy, like water." "Interesting," she said. She thought for a moment. "I like the yellow. It reminds me of the wheat fields back home." Sensing a hint of interest on her part, I continued: "So what do you think it is?" "Too much coffee?" she said, flashing me a shy grin. I had to disguise a giant sigh of relief. She was beautiful, in an ordinary sort of way, and I realized why her shoulders where hunched. She was trying to hide a pair of very nice, full, pointed tits. It's funny how some women stick them out and others don't. I figured, because she didn't, she may have had self esteem issues, which would be another win for me. I know, I sound crass, but I've learned a few things over the years. One is that I don't chase women who stick their tits out. These women can be difficult and demanding. Who needs that? Give me a homely gal who's satisfied with a car that runs and a man who doesn't smell bad and I will win her over every time. "Speaking of coffee..." I said, realizing that her group was trooping off into the next room and she had to troop with them, "if you ever have some free time..." "Sure," she said, slipping a slender hand into her overstuffed woven bag. She handed me a business card -- turquoise and orange -- that said: "Veronica Williams, art for art's sake," followed by her number and email. "Great," I said, trying to hide my stupid grin. "See you soon." As she strolled away, I considered my incredible stroke of luck. After a three-month dry spell, I was finally getting somewhere with a woman. Granted, she may have been a little out of my league, but sometimes those younger gals go for the older guy with the wisdom and the cooking skills and the sexual sophistication. Too bad I possessed none of those traits, but she didn't know that. Speaking of sophistication, I was feeling rather unsophisticated that afternoon when I found myself literally skipping home. I was that happy. Just that brief encounter told me everything I needed to know about her. She was a dreamer, she was far from home, she was pretty, she smelled nice (lilacs) and the tits. Did I mention the tits? By the time our third coffee date had rolled around, it was as if she and I were lovers, even though we'd never even touched each other. She'd talk about art, and women's issues, and missing Iowa, and the family dog she had to leave behind, and I'd just sit there, looking into her amber eyes thinking dirty thoughts. On that third date, her hair was up in a ponytail, giving her an air of total innocence. Why is it innocent looking women give me such dirty thoughts? I couldn't help but wonder, if I kissed her neck, would she giggle and blush? If I put my arm around her slender waist, would she wriggle away, her ponytail flailing like a prancing horse? Her ponytail did remind me of a ten year-old girl in her Black Beauty phase, and I had to laugh to myself. What if she painted nothing but horse pictures? That would have been a deal killer, although I probably could have put up with it for a while. She didn't paint horse pictures, she painted figure studies. She showed me on her phone; women and men. Naked women and men. I didn't ask her where she found them. I was afraid to. What if I got jealous? That would be lame. No, I had to play it cool, even though I knew I was falling in love with her. Yeah, I'm that kind of sap, but I'm pretty sure she was falling in love with me too. How would I know that? How does anyone know when the right one comes along? It's a dance between fantasy and reality, and I was one dancing fool. After showing me her artwork on her phone, Veronica had to run off to art history class, and then her part time job at an art supply store, but before she left, she asked me if I wanted to go to a performance of Yoko Ono's "Cut Piece" "Isn't Yoko dead?" I asked. She rolled her eyes. "No silly, it's John who's dead. Yoko's still around, but it's not her doing the performance, it's me." She beamed at me, and for a second I though we were going to kiss. "How do you perform 'Cut Piece'?" I asked. "Does it have something to do with hair? You've got beautiful hair, you know. It would be a shame if..." "Don't worry," she said, laying her hand on my forearm, "I'm not cutting my hair, although 'Cut Piece' does involve scissors." When she touched me, my pulse rate jumped about 20 beats per minute. I pretending like I didn't even notice her soft soothing fingers on my arm, even though her touch warmed me clear down into the dark depths of my soul. "Scissors?" I asked, hoping she'd explain. "Google it', she said, letting go of my arm so she could fish a flyer out of her bag. "Here," she said, getting up to leave. I got up too, and as she handed me the flyer, she grabbed my shirt, tugged me closer and gave me a peck on the cheek. "So you'll come?" she asked, as she turned to go. "Sure," I said, the smell of her flowery shampoo lingering in the air. I watched her walk away, although "flounce" might be a better word for it. She had that youthful exuberance that seems to disappear as women age. Her ass was still firm and round, her legs were still long and lean, and the bounce in her step screamed "healthy." As I headed home, I vowed to start running again. I certainly didn't want to blow my chance with this stunning little hottie by being too old and out of shape. When I got home I googled "Yoko Ono Cut Piece". This is what I found: First performed in 1964. She kneels on stage, a pair of scissors at her feet, and invites audience members to come up and cut off pieces of her clothing. She remains stoic, unflinching, while the hands of strangers carefully undress her with the scissors. The first two performances ended with her in her bra and panties, but in London in 1965, she was rendered naked within 20 minutes. Holy crap! My future wife was going to be naked in front of a bunch of strangers? Before she even gets naked for me? That sucks, but what could I do? The performance was the next night, not exactly enough time for me to break the ice with her, get her into the sack, and nail down our monogamous status before she had a chance to stray. It was a stressful 24 hours, waiting to see her again, but I survived. I ran a few laps around the park. I ate an avocado, (which is not bad with yogurt.) I cooked up a pack of instant brown rice and grilled a piece of salmon. I knew it wasn't realistic to remove fifteen years of my life and drop ten pounds in 24 hours, but it kept me busy and on a positive track. The next day, I was at the theater a good half hour before they even opened, hiding across the street so she wouldn't find me there like a homeless dog, wagging his tail when he finally gets petted on the head. A few minutes before seven, people started filing in for the pre-performance reception. I waited till I saw her flounce in, a knapsack hiked up on her shoulder, and then I gave her another ten minutes so I could make a fashionably late entrance. Five minutes later (yeah, I couldn't wait ten minutes) I strolled into the room as if I belonged there, but I didn't belong there. I wasn't a young, beautiful but troubled artist, or a professor, or a critic from the campus paper, or even a nude model, I was just a working class dude with his hands in his pockets, pretending to enjoy the horrible screeching music cutting through the air like barbed wire. (I would later find out that this horrible screeching music was actually Yoko Ono.) I dropped a five in the "donations" can and grabbed a glass of wine. I don't normally drink wine, but for Veronica, I could make an exception. In fact, I had a feeling I'd be making a lot of exceptions for this woman if things worked out the way I planned. I took a sip of my wine, pondering how the twisted metal sculpture in the middle of the lobby looked just like the music sounded, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hey," Veronica said, "you made it." She grabbed my arm and cuddled up next to me, as if we were a couple, and had been a couple for a long time. I was definitely okay with that. She had a glass of wine in her hand. "Want some?" she asked. "Got one," I said, watching her take a huge gulp. "Nervous?" "A little" she said, looking at the floor. "I can imagine. You're very brave, you know." "Not brave," she sighed, shaking her head, "just stubborn. And idealistic. It's extra credit for both my art class and my sociology class, but I sort of wish I'd picked a different piece." "It is a rather daring performance," I said, checking out her latest goodwill dress. This one had a distinct church lady vibe -- big yellow flowers on a faded purple background, with a lace border framing her pale collar bones -- and I realized what fun it would be to shred it with a pair of scissors. I continued: "According to what I read, you can stop the performance at any time, right?" "Theoretically, but I'll be handcuffed to the chair, so anything could happen." "Handcuffed?" I gasped. "What's up with that? 50 Shades of Gray?" "No," she sighed, "it's a metaphor for the oppression of women. Plus, I don't want to have the ability to alter the performance. I want to be totally at the mercy of the audience." She gave me a little squeeze, and I think I might have felt a little bit of her left breast pressed up against my arm. What I definitely could feel was a boner coming on. "So," she said, turning to me and running her hand up and down the buttons of my shirt, "if we get to a point in the performance where the audience is afraid to continue, you'll come up and cut something off me, right?" "If you want me to," I said, certain I was blushing. "Do you have a preference for what I should be cutting?" "Well...," she thought for a moment, "I hate these stockings." She looked down at her black pantyhose, reminiscent of what Yoko wore back in 1964. "If I still have them on when you come up, you have my permission to cut them off. I mean like, totally off. I'm wearing panties underneath, so it's not like you'll be violating me or anything." Just my luck I was dating a mindreader. At that very moment I was violating her in my mind, my engorged dick popping into her tight little cunt like a straw plunging into the plastic lid of a big gulp. My biggest hope was that she was on the pill, and I was her first sex partner since she'd left the Midwest, so we wouldn't have to use condoms. Snapping out of my fantasy, I realized the conversation had stalled, so I asked her: "Will the performance end when you're down to your bra and panties?" "It depends," she said, suddenly serious. "I honestly don't know how it's going to end. Being the only naked person in a setting like this could be empowering, or it could be totally humiliating. I'm not planning on finding out, but that's the beauty of performance art. Although there's a script of sorts, the interaction with the audience determines the outcome. If I end up naked on the internet I'm sure I'll regret it, but that's the chance we take these days. Anything we do could end up on the internet. My landlord could have a secret camera in my shower for all I know. He's certainly creepy enough." A chill went down my spine. She had been reading my mind, and now she was warning me about being creepy. I froze. Did she know I was, at that very moment, imagining her long, languid form all naked and soaped up in the shower? Just then, an older lady strolled up and took Veronica by the elbow. "You almost ready Hon?" she asked, totally ignoring me. "I guess," Veronica replied as the lady dragged her away. I watched wistfully. That should be me dragging her away to my bedroom. Perhaps tonight would be my big chance. Perhaps she would end up being naked on stage, and, with that out of the way, fucking with abandon would follow. A moment later, the house lights flickered. As the crowd ambled into the theater, I slipped into the last row, thinking, hidden back here, no one would notice I really didn't belong in this theater, even though the star attraction herself had invited me. The murmur of the crowd grew silent, as if we were in church. People started whispering quietly, leaning into each other so they wouldn't have to raise their voices. I could hear the creak of the floor boards and the squawk of a chair being moved behind the red velvet curtain, and my hands started to sweat. Finally, the lights came down and the curtain opened. Veronica stood at a mic, her billowy dress making her look like a model from a Sears catalogue circa 1950. Her hair was up in a bun, and I detected the faintest hint of lipstick and eyeliner, something I hadn't noticed earlier. She took the mic stand with one hand, and held a three-by-five cue card with the other. "Welcome to the Valley Arts Council performance of Yoko Ono's 'Cut Piece'. My name is Veronica Williams, and I'll be interpreting the work with a few updates to reflect the realities faced by women today. For one thing, we're using a chair. Ergonomics you know." The crowd chuckled. Then she continued. "I've decided to have my hands cuffed behind the chair. Choose your own metaphor for that." The crowd chuckled again, and I realized it was a very supportive group -- definitely much more civilized than what you'd find at a female oil wrestling match, (not that I've ever been to one of those.) "We're adding another twist," she said. "Before you cut off the piece of clothing you want, we'd like you to reassure the performer - that would be me - with a soothing caress or some whispered words of encouragement. We're going for a seduction vibe here. This will increase the bond between the performer and the individual audience members, which could lead to a more nuanced interpretation of the piece." She paused, flipping her cue card over, and then resumed. "We have a video camera in the back of the theater to document the performance. With that in mind, please refrain from taking cell phone video. This is a live performance between me and each one of you in the audience. It's not a performance between me and millions of internet perverts." "Darn it," a man's voice said. The crowd chuckled nervously, looking around to find the offender, who appeared to be a bald guy in the front row. Unfazed, Veronica continued. "Anyone who might have questions or comments is welcome to join me backstage after the performance." She stepped back from the mic, and there was a smattering of polite applause. She turned towards her chair of doom and then froze. Returning to the mic, she said: "Sorry, I forgot to thank Miranda Lopez, the owner of the Bright House Gallery. She rented the theater tonight, and she'll be the one in charge of the handcuff keys, so don't let her run off until we're finished, okay?" The audience chuckled again as Veronica walked dutifully to the chair and sat down. Miranda, the older woman I'd seen in the lobby, appeared wearing dark pleated slacks and a billowy white shirt with an ascot tucked up under her neck. With a dramatic flourish, she unlocked the handcuffs and secured Veronica's hands behind her back. Then she produced a pair of red-handled scissors from her back pocket and placed them on the floor at Veronica's feet. "You may proceed," Miranda announced, her face distorted into a snarling grin. Silence. Obviously, no one wanted to go first. Finally, a plump girl took the scissors, paused to whisper something in Veronica's ear, and then snipped a small, pie-shaped section off the side of her dress. Veronica remained motionless, eyes straight ahead, lips pursed, a slightly pained expression on her face. It was creepy to watch, and yet it was arousing. Already, I could feel the tingle of my dick waking up. The cutting continued. Swatches of her dress disappeared into the hands of strangers as they whispered and rubbed her back. Someone cut off a sleeve and her bare shoulder was revealed, white, innocent looking. After a few more minutes of creative cutting, her dress was reduced to a raggedy patch of dangling cloth remnants, revealing her long legs ensconced in the black pantyhose. A few more snips and she had holes in both knees of her stockings. Then a longhaired blonde woman put a hand on her shoulder, whispered in her ear, and snipped the tops of the dress, being careful not to cut the straps of her undergarments. With the last snip, her dress fell down to her waist, revealing a lacy slip with a bra underneath. Veronica remained totally passive, although as the caresses continued, I could almost see her leaning into them like when you pet a cat. It was as if the scissors-wielding participants were playing her body like a musical instrument, and she was responding with a concerto of desire. The pace quickening now, a small Asian woman sliced the front of her slip open clear down to her waist, and a heavyset woman finished the cut, all the way down to the hem at the bottom. The slip dangled open now, revealing her plain white bra. Several more cuts opened her stockings clear up to the tops of her thighs, and all the way down to her ankles. The bald guy from the front row crept up, touched her shoulder gently, whispered in her ear, and then cut both straps of her slip, accidentally catching her left bra strap at the same time. As the slip slithered down, the bra flapped partially open, snagging on her stiff little nipple. There was an audible gasp from the crowd as Veronica glanced down, perhaps determining whether or not to continue. The guy apologized, trying to lift the bra panel back up, but it wouldn't stay. Finally, he slinked back to his seat, looking like a dog caught peeing on the floor. At this point the performance stalled. Perhaps it was the partially exposed bare breast that had the audience holding back. Whatever it was, I realized it was my cue. Fortunately, my intermittent hard-on was in remission, so I got up and walked towards the stage, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. You could hear a pin drop. When I reached the stage, my hands were shaking. I took the scissors and laid them on her bare thigh. She flinched every so slightly, not enough for the audience to see, but enough for me to realize I hadn't given her the soothing touch first. 
I slid my hand lightly up her thigh. "You okay?" I whispered. The look on her face reminded me of when my sister and I were up on the ferris wheel and she thought it was broken and we were never coming back down. Over the Edge "Do it," she squeaked, barely audibly. "You can stop now," I whispered. "You don't have to go through with it." "I can't stop," she said, her voice strained and small, "I'm over the edge. Do it. Cut my pantyhose off. Cut everything off." "But Veronica..." I stammered, "What if you regret it later?" "Just do it!" she hissed. I knew I couldn't cut everything off -- it appeared we were only allowed to cut one thing at a time -- but I had to do something. Resigned to my task, I knelt in front of her. That's when I noticed the faintest hint of the smell of pussy. It reminded me of the time I was fingering a girlfriend in a dark movie theater. Suddenly, we were enveloped in a cloud of fishy air. Veronica didn't smell fishy, but she didn't smell like body wash either. It was in between, sort of a dark musty oder with a twist of vanilla. Breathing deeply now, I lifted a pinch of her left stocking over by her hip and slid the scissors into the gap. She stiffened. I snipped a few inches, continuing to move up her hip towards the waistband, pinching the fabric up off her body so the scissors wouldn't scratch her freckled white skin. I could see her sweat beaded in her cleavage and on her forehead. I felt bad for her, but also strangely excited. Obviously, with a pink nipple inches from my face, I had reason to be excited, but there was more to it than that. It was as if she and I were in our own little world, and the audience was a million miles away. When the scissors sliced through the waistband of the pantyhose, they sprung open, making us both jump. There was a murmur from the audience. Emboldened now, I did the same on the other side. With the last slice, her pantyhose slithered down into her lap, revealing her white panties. As I knelt to put the scissors down, they slipped out of my hand and clattered on the floor. I returned to my seat, my face burning, as everyone in the audience watched with disapproving eyes. Back in my seat, I slouched down low, wishing I could just disappear. But then a woman mounted the stage and without a whisper or a caress, went around behind Veronica's back and sliced her bra. It slithered down off her left tit, dangling by the remaining strap on her right shoulder. Not satisfied with the damage, the woman also sliced the one remaining shoulder strap and the bra fluttered down her chest to mingle with the useless pantyhose in her lap. As the woman came back around front, she snatched the bra out of Veronica's lap and took it with her back to her seat. Suddenly, Veronica looked vulnerable, scared. I think it was the way her hands were cuffed behind her back. You don't usually see that when a woman is almost naked, unless you're surfing a BDSM website, but Veronica didn't strike me as the BDSM type. I did have to admit, with her bare breasts thrust forward, she looked like a skinny version of one of those maidens that adorns the front of a pirate ship. Her pink nipples appeared stiff, puckered, her pointed breasts quivering ever so slightly as she breathed in and out. At this point I was certain Veronica would end the performance, but she didn't. She just sat there. In the silence, I noticed the couple sitting in front of me had their hands in each other's laps. I could see the woman gently kneading the guy's hard-on through his pants. I couldn't see his hand over in her lap, but the rhythmic motion of his forearm was undeniable. They were masturbating each other. By this time, my hard-on was undeniable. It was throbbing. Aching. Tingling. I scrunched forward trying to make room for it in my pants, but it was hopeless. I had a steel shaft between my legs and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, Miranda appeared from back stage, knelt behind Veronica, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Veronica seemed to lean back into her as Miranda whispered in her ear while her hand slithered around on Veronica's bare back. Her other hand snaked around front and cleared away the cloth remnants collecting in Veronica's lap. Veronica opened her legs to facilitate this, and they remained open while Miranda slid her hand back up her thigh. Then, like magic, Miranada produced another pair of scissors, smaller, with rounded tips, and slid them down towards the panties. Veronica's eyes seemed to bug out as her gaze shifted to watch what would happen next. Miranda tucked the scissors under the waistband of the hip-hugger panties and waited. It seemed like everyone in the place was holding their breath. Miranda's scissors slipped deeper into the panties, over by the edge of her hip, and then there was an audible slicing sound. It was like nails on a chalkboard. As if in slow motion, Veronica's panties poofed open on the left side, the front flap draping down to reveal the edge of her tightly trimmed chestnut bush. I had to press down on my hard-on, which was starting to throb. Still kneeling behind her, Miranda moved the scissors to the other side, her free hand gently caressing Veronica, up and down, from the top of her hip down her thigh and then back up again, sliding around to the inside of her thigh, almost touching her pubic hair. Veronica's breathing seemed to be in sync with Miranda's rhythm, and so was mine. Watching Miranda's hand caressing Veronica, it was as if it was also stroking my cock, getting me closer and closer to cumming. I needed to close my eyes to make the arousal stop, but I couldn't. I had to see what happened next. The scissors were now poised to cut the other side of the panties. Veronica's breathing seemed to quicken. Miranda waited... and waited. Finally, with an unexpectedly swift movement, she sliced the panties and they slithered open, revealing the rest of Veronica's bush and the top of her slit. Again, the crowd gasped, as did Veronica. She looked down at her exposed area, she looked out at the crowd, she looked down again, and let out a raspy sigh. At that point, several people got up to leave, shaking their heads in disgust, but the rest of us were glued to our seats. Now Miranda was reaching around from behind Veronica, with both hands on Veronica's hips, sliding them down slowly to find the cut edges of the panties. Grasping the cut edges, she pulled them up as if she was going to hide Veronica's crotch from view, but that wasn't her plan. With the panties snug against Veronica's labia, Miranda gave them a gentle tug upwards, as if she was going to pull them off by dragging them up from between her legs. Because of the lighting, Veronica's camel-toe appeared in full relief, the puffy edges framing a deep cleft in the middle. Veronica gasped, her mouth hanging open, he eyelids fluttering. Miranda waited a few moments, and then she tugged again, pulling the cloth perhaps a half inch higher. Veronica let out a silent moan. Miranda tugged again, eliciting a raspy whine from the poor girl. By now her legs were wide open, her hips almost quivering with anticipation. Veronica was panting now, her mouth hanging open, a sliver of drool dripping out of the corner of her mouth. With the panties snug up against her pussy, a wet spot had appeared right in the middle. The crowd remained hushed as the spectacle continued, Miranda tugging, Veronica whimpering as the tension built. Finally, Miranda changed her technique to a series of tiny little jerks, twitching the panties up a quarter inch at a time. She was slow, persistent, determined. After a few moments, Veronica closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let loose with a raspy whimper. A second later, her whole body shook, her tits quivering, her tummy spasming. Miranda kept tugging, and Veronica kept cumming, gasping, shaking her head back and forth, twitching her hips frantically. Watching her orgasm, I couldn't help it. I could already feel semen easing up my shaft. This hadn't happened to me since my senior year of high school, making out with my first girlfriend in the front seat of her daddy's car. I pinched down hard, smashing my dick with my hand, but it was too late. With a silent grunt, I let loose, shooting two weeks worth of jizz into my shorts. I hunched over, trying to make it stop, but I didn't want it to stop. I wanted it to continue forever because it was proof of my undying devotion for my new lover Veronica. It wasn't till I was done that I realized the girl in front of me had actually reached down inside the guy's pants to make him cum, and also catch the mess. I wasn't so lucky. My hot jizz had already made an apple-sized wet spot on my jeans, and it was still growing. Looking up at the stage, Veronica's orgasm had finally wound down and her panties were gone. She sat there panting in her chair, legs spread open, eyes closed, her pussy looking like a pulsating wet peach. Miranda stayed with her, cuddled, caressing, whispering in her ear. It was touching, so tender, so... intimate. It was as if there was no audience, just the two of them lost in a private moment of bliss. Suddenly, I felt sick. Not only did I now have a wet spot on my jeans, but the girl I had fallen for was unattainable. A lesbian. Or maybe she wasn't a lesbian, maybe she was just bi. I could work with that, or so I told myself. I suppose if a person could be both dejected and elated at the same time, that would have been me at that moment. Finally, Miranda produced the handcuff key and freed her hands. Perhaps forgetting she was naked in front of 60 people, Veronica grabbed her breasts and squeezed out a couple more spasms to finish off her orgasm. Then Miranda stood up and pointed at Veronica the way a Las Vegas singer points at the band after a hot number. Instantly, the crowd erupted in applause. Within moments, the applause turned into a standing ovation. Veronica pushed herself up out of her chair, sloughed off what was left of her tattered garments, and took a bow. Then she stepped up to the mic. "First," she said wearily, wiping the sweat off her forehead, "I'd like to apologize. I had no idea this was going to happen. But it did. I sincerely hope no one was offended." She looked down, and sort of nonchalantly let one hand dangle in front of her swollen pussy. The wetness between her legs was still visible, but at this point, what did it matter? "Um... if you have any questions or comments, you're welcome to come back stage after I get dressed." Then she looked down at her bare breasts. "Oh Jesus, I'm naked. Miranda?" Miranda handed her a remnant of the slip, which Veronica held up in front of her chest. Than she addressed the crowd while Veronica nonchalantly hid behind her. "That concludes tonights performance. There is a donation box in the lobby. Veronica is going to be needing a new dress after tonight. And new underwear." As the crowd chuckled, she paused to glance adoringly at her young protégé. She continued. "Thank you very much for coming, and please visit the Bright House Gallery. We'll definitely be doing more of these performance art pieces in the future, and you don't want to miss out. You can also go to our website and get on the mailing list. Thank you, and good night." Once again, applause filled the room as the two women padded off towards stage left. Veronica looked exceedingly pitiful holding the scrap of cloth up agains her killer tits, but the sight of her bare ass was inspiring, making me wish I could get hard again. The fact that Miranda's hand was on that ass was a bit demoralizing, but I tried to remain positive, reminding myself that every guy's dream is to have a bisexual girlfriend. As the audience filtered out of the theater, I just sat in my seat, wondering what the hell to do with my wet spot. It was as obvious as if I'd peed my pants. Then I spotted a collapsed popcorn box on the floor, so I grabbed that and positioned it to hide my "accident." The crowd was abuzz as I ambled out to the lobby. I could hear "I can't believe she.." and "that was so hot..." and "Oh my God, did you see those tits?" but I wasn't listening. I was just hoping I could make it out to my car without someone noticing the wet spot on my jeans. Safely ensconced in the front seat of my Nissan, I unzipped my jeans and grabbed an old McDonalds napkin to clean up what was left of the mess in my shorts. Dejected, humiliated, I was certain my adventure with Veronica was over. How could I compete with Miranda, who obviously had a whole lifetime of experience giving women orgasms in ways men have never even dreamed of? I was zipping up my jeans when my phone chimed. I checked the message. It was from Veronica: "Sorry. I had no idea. Please don't be mad." I texted back: "Not mad. U were gr8." She replied "Pervert!" followed by, "Where r u?" "In my car." "Come back stage. Have more wine." "Can't. Had an accident. "OMG! R U OK? "Spilled wine on my pants. Looks bad." There was a pause, longer than the previous pauses, but I wasn't worried. The fact she was even texting me in the midst of her backstage meet-and-greet meant I was important to her. That eased my mind. Finally, she hit me back. "Wine? That's cool. My friends won't mind." Oh crap. What do I do now? I decided, what the hell, I may as well be honest. I texted her back: "Not wine. Semen." She hit me back within thirty seconds. "OMG! U came 2? That is so hot!" I breathed a sigh of relief, but I still wasn't sure about the situation. I had to ask. "What about Miranda. Is she ur lover?" Another long pause. My heart sank. I waited. I zipped up my pants. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I looked out at the streetlights, wondering why I had allowed myself to fall in love with a freakin' lesbian. Finally, my phone chimed. "No silly. U R. Meet me by the stage door in 20 minutes and take me home. I want you to have another accident, but in my pussy this time." So I did. Over The Edge, Into The Woods I had several hours to spare before the next meeting. I was too far from my office for it to make sense to drive all the way back, only to turn around again. I decided to make the best of it and take time for myself. I knew of a woodland park that stretched along the river. I'd grab some take-out and head over there for a little R&R. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and hot. I found a picnic table a short distance from the broad path that went through the woods. I had a good view of everything that came and went along it. It led into the trees for a half mile or so, circled around and then came back to where I was sitting. Along the way, there were some "bunny trails" that kids had created over the years, obscure little tracks that led deeper into the woods where the highschool crowd had their weekend parties. I was finishing my sandwich and coffee when I heard someone approach. I turned to see who was coming. It was an older woman, maybe in her mid-fifties. She was medium height, 5'7" or so and just slightly overweight (probably why she was out walking). She had a pretty face - dark eyes, full lips. Her hair was auburn, streaked with a touch of gold, about shoulder length, pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing beige slacks that hugged her nicely rounded ass and a bright red sleeveless top with a high neck, made of a rib-knit stretchy material. The outfit clung tightly to her smooth curves. Surprisingly she was wearing black sling-back shoes with about a three inch heel - not exactly the best choice for a walk in the woods. I loved that look - just a hint of bare ankle between high heels and slacks. I wondered if she had come from a nearby office on a quick break. She really caught my attention as she walked by. Sure, she was a little on the mature side but she was soft in all the right places. Her hips flared, her legs were curvy and her tits - my god, her tits! They were enormous. I thought probably half her weight was taken up by those breasts. They were pressed into a full support brassiere that was clearly outlined by the stretchy fabric of her sweater. Bulges of flesh billowed out over top of the bra cups that strained to hold them in place. They jiggled and swayed with each step she took along the path. I sat there dumbfounded. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I sat quietly and watched as she headed down the path. She took no notice of me, probably didn't even see me sitting there up near the treeline. I looked toward the entrance gate and the parking lot. There were only two cars - hers and mine. I'd been in the park long enough to know no one else had come by for quite a while. We were alone here, just me and the bouncing beauty. I don't know what came over me exactly. Maybe I'd been on the road too much lately, maybe I'd been dealing with too much stress. Hell, maybe I just hadn't gotten laid enough these past few months or more. All I could think of was getting my hands on those huge tits. I simply had to see them, to feel them. The consequences didn't matter. I was going to get my hands on that woman's breasts. I quickly stood up, tossed the remains of my lunch into the bin and followed after her. I tried to be quiet and not let her hear me. She was about fifty yards ahead, walking at a steady pace. Each time she disappeared behind the next curve I broke into a trot and closed the distance between us. In about five minutes I was right behind her, five feet away. "It's a beautiful day for a walk, isn't it?" I called out. She whirled around and let out a little scream, bringing her hand to her mouth. "Oh!" she cried, "You gave me such a start! I didn't know you were there!" "I'm so sorry Ma'am!" I soothed, "I didn't mean to startle you!" By now we were side by side, walking together. "I'm very sorry! I didn't mean to ruin your walk!" "Oh goodness no! That's quite alright." She patted her chest, her fingers pressing against the bulge above her left breast, "My heart! Goodness!" She smiled. "Anyway, to answer your question, yes it is a beautiful day." I continued to walk along beside her. She seemed a little nervous to have me there - with good reason. She probably knew as well as I did that we were alone, far from any help she could call for. "Do you often go for walks here?" I asked her. "Y-yes, I try to get out once in a while," she replied. "It's nice to get some fresh air and exercise. Lord knows I can use the exercise!" With that she gave a little laugh and looked away. "What are you talking about?" I said. "You certainly don't look like you need any exercise!" She snorted and turned back to me. "Well, thank you for the flattery but I'm well aware that I need to lose a few extra pounds!" It was then that I stepped over the boundary, past the point of no return. I shrugged my shoulders "Well, to each their own I guess but I'd sure hate to see those get any smaller." "Those?" I stared down at her chest. "Those! You have the most magnificent set of tits I've ever seen!" A look of shock crossed her face, her mouth dropped open. "Well!" she blustered. "Well, of all the nerve! I never...!" She started to walk away from me. I caught up to her. "Leave me alone!" she ordered. "Go away! Of all the rude...!" "Hey Lady, just relax," I said. "Look, it's just you and me here, nobody's going to bother us. I think we ought to walk together - you know - enjoy each other's company." She kept looking straight ahead, fiercely trying to ignore me. "I gotta tell you Lady. Those tits of yours are fantastic. I love the way they bounce all over the place when you walk. I'll bet it's quite a job to stuff them into your bra every morning. Tell me: is it? Is it a tough job to get those massive knockers of yours to behave?" Her face flushed a deep red. "It's none of your business!" "I'll take that as a yes then. Ok, so you must have to bend over and let them sink into that hammock of a brassiere you're wearing. It must really be something to see that. I'd love to see that. Oh, another question: Do they sag down? I mean, do your nipples point out or down? Stop and let me guess!" I took her by the shoulder and twisted her toward me. "Get your hand off me!" she barked. "Listen Lady," I hissed. "You and me, we're going to have some fun together. No point in fighting, there's not a damn thing you can do about it out here. It's just you and me and the trees so you'd better do what I say, understand?" She stared hard into my face, her cheeks blazing red. She was starting to sweat. Her bottom lip was trembling. She looked down to the ground, saying nothing, only nodding her head ever so slightly. "Good!" I smiled at her. "Hey, this will be fun! Ok, where were we? Oh yeah, you were about to tell me if your nipples pointed out or down. Wait! Don't tell me, let me guess." I took a half step back and stared down at her chest. She was breathing hard. "Well, it's kind of hard to tell with that brassiere you're wearing but judging by how much those tits hang down I'll bet they're pointing at the ground. Right? Am I right?" She blushed a deep crimson as she brought her hands up to cover her breasts. She obviously didn't appreciate me staring at her tits. "Put your hands down!" I roared. Startled, she took a half step back and dropped her hands to her sides. "That's better! Listen...you do as I say and we'll both enjoy this. You don't co-operate, only one of us is going to have fun, got it?" She nodded, still staring at the ground. "Ok, I want to hear it from you. Do your nipples point out or down? Tell me!" She scrunched her face tightly and shook her head. I took a step toward her. "Tell me!" "Alright, alright, leave me alone!" she cried. Looking down, she whispered, "Out". "What was that? I didn't hear you. Louder please" "Out." "What? Louder!" She looked up at me, her face bright red, "Out I said! My nipples point out!" "That's better. Hey, they sound pretty good. I like big tits like yours, especially tits with nice nipples. Now, walk with me." I hooked my arm into hers and led her along the path, deeper into the woods. "Please," she whimpered. "Let me go. Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?" I snorted. "What do I want? Better question is what do you want? Why are you here all alone, dressed in this outfit, tits sticking out for all the world to see? Hmm? You've been hoping that some guy would come along and get his hands all over your tits, haven't you! That's it isn't it? You really want this, don't you!" "No, I don't!" she cried. "I - I just want to go for a walk. Alone! Leave me alone!" "Sure, whatever you say. How long has it been, hmm? How long since those tits have been in a guy's mouth? How long since you've had a stiff cock between your legs? I'll bet it has been ages, hasn't it! What you really want is a good, hard fuck right?" "N-no! Please let me go! Leave me alone!" She tried to tug her arm away from mine. I held on tight and kept walking deeper into the woods. "Ok, here's what we're going to do. You're going to take that bra off." "No! I will not take anything off for you! I'll do nothing of the sort. You're a rude, terrible young man!" I took hold of her ponytail and twisted her head back. "As I was saying, you're going to take your bra off, right here, right now." I looked behind us - nobody in sight. "Now! Do it! Take it off!" She begged me to leave her alone. I just stood there, shaking my head, my arms crossed. "Lady, you better learn fast. Either you take it off or I will. Your choice, but either way, it's coming off." She stared at me again, shaking her head slightly, apparently thinking hard about her situation. In a moment, she looked up and down the path then reached behind, up under her sweater. I saw the bra loosen away from her breasts as she undid the hooks. Taking each shoulder strap in her fingers, she slipped them down, pulling her arms up through them. She reached up under the front of her sweater and drew the brassiere out and held it in her hand. Self-conscious, knowing her nipples were pushing out against the fabric, she again brought a hand up to try and shield herself from me. "Give it to me," I ordered. She held it out. I took it and had a look at the tag. "Holy shit, 40H?" She turned beet red. "Wow, I didn't know they came that big. I folded it into a bundle and proceeded to stuff it down the front of my pants. I heard her gasp as she watched me. "Hey, that feels good," I smiled. "Kind of hugs my cock, you know?" She shook her head, staring at me. "Ok, now... Damn, look at those babies! Put your hands down like I told you to," I growled. She dropped her hands to her sides again. Her breasts hung heavily, hugged by the tight sweater. Her chest was heaving as she took deep breaths, trying to calm down. I stepped down the path and turned back toward her. "Now, walk. Walk towards me," I ordered. She paused and then took a couple of steps toward me. Each time, her breasts swayed from side to side, pulling her sweater with them. "Damn, that's hot!" I exclaimed. "Look at those babies jiggle! C'mon, keep walking." I walked backwards, keeping my eyes on her tits as she walked toward me. It was fantastic, watching those mounds sway back and forth with each step she took. We walked about twenty yards and then I stopped again. "Hey that was great! I just love how your tits move when you walk. Now, make 'em bounce!" "What?" she asked. "You know, jump up and down. Make 'em bounce up and down." "Oh god," she breathed. She threw a quick look back over her shoulder and then proceeded to rise up and down on her toes, making her tits lift slightly as she did. "C'mon, you can do better than that!" She bent her knees and took little hops. I watched her tits lift up, stretching the knitted fabric of her top and then flatten down against her chest as they dropped. "Yeah, that's it! More! Keep going!" She was jumping now, her feet leaving the ground. Her tits were flopping and swinging wildly. I noticed that with each jump her sweater was edging higher up her body, pulled by the movements of her tits. It wouldn't be long before they would be in plain view. She sensed it too and tugged the bottom of her sweater down again. "Hey, I saw what you just did. Don't you dare do that again. You leave your top alone. Now keep jumping. That's it girl, keep them bouncing." I stood and watched as she continued to leap up. Her sweater crept up her body again. Her waist was in view now. A couple more jumps. There! With one final drop, her sweater popped up as her giant jugs dropped down into view. There were her two perfectly defined large nipples, each with a long stiff nub in the centre. How I wanted to get my lips on those! She felt the air wash over her bare skin and knew her breasts were hanging in plain view as they bounced and swayed. She began to pant, sweat on her face, breathing hard. "Please" she said, "Please can I stop now? It hurts to do this." "Sure Babe, as long as you don't touch your sweater. As soon as you try to pull it down, we'll be right back to the jumping jacks, got it?" She stood still and nodded, brushing a wisp of hair from her face. "Walk towards me again." I backed up along the path and watched as her bare nipples drew circles in the air with each step she took. She was right; they really did point forward. Those tits didn't sag at all. They were heavy round globes of solid flesh that came to a point with large brown nipples. I hadn't seen such a perfect pair of tits before. "Lady, those 40H tits of yours are the best I've seen. Come here." I stopped walking. She stepped toward me. "Hold them up, show them to me." She shook her head. I took a menacing step toward her. "Now," I growled. She closed her eyes, then brought her arms up and gathered her breasts into her hands. "Lift them up," I ordered. She brought them up away from her body. Her nipples were hard, pointing straight at me. Her flesh bulged out over her fingers. Her tits were too big to fit in her hands. I looked up at her. Her face was a deep red as she stood there. I reached out and took hold of her nipples. She gasped and looked down at my hands. She started to back away. I held on tightly to those two stiff nubs. She pulled back but the only result was to stretch her nipples up higher until I was lifting her tits by them. She stood still again and whimpered. I lifted her tits higher, until they were two long triangles of flesh pointing at the sky. I shook them from side to side. I let her left breast drop. It slapped down against her chest and hung there, swaying slowly. Her nipple was huge now - long, stiff and red from pinching. I dropped her right breast - same thing. I slid my hands under them and picked them up. They were incredibly heavy and full. I tossed her left one into the air and caught it, then again, and again. I tossed it one more time and let it drop down. It bounced and then hung heavily. She winced as the full weight of that gigantic jug pulled at her chest. I did the same with her right tit. She stood there, wordless, looking down at the ground. I lifted both up again and smashed them together until her nipples were touching. I bent down and licked them. I heard her gasp as she realized what I was doing. "Please." she whispered. I ignored her and began sucking those long nubs, flicking them with the tip of my tongue. I lifted her left tit up further and sucked hard, drawing it deeply into my mouth until my cheeks bulged. I tugged and sucked hard then took a small step back. She felt the pull and looked at me. Our eyes locked. I took another step back, my mouth full of her breast. She realized I was leading her further down the path. We walked a few paces that way, my mouth locked on her tit as she followed me. I turned and stepped onto the grass toward the trees. "No, no, please no." she pleaded as she saw what was happening "Please let me go." I let go of her tit. It slid out of my mouth with a "pop" and slapped down against her again. I took hold of her nipples, pinching hard. She winced. I backed toward the path leading into the trees, leading her by the grip I had on her. She followed, moaning in pain. My fingers were tiring so I slid my hands under her breasts and wrapped my fingers around them, using them to pull her along the path. In her high heels, she struggled to keep her balance on the uneven path. What a sight to see, leading her this way, her tits stretched out as I pulled her along. My cock was throbbing. We were hidden by dense foliage now. "Stand still," I ordered. "One sound and you'll regret it." I unzipped my pants and pulled out her bra. It was stained from the juices oozing from my stiff cock. I held it up for her to see, then tossed it into the trees. "Raise your arms." She brought her hands up high. With one swift motion, I yanked her top up over her head and tossed it away. Again she gasped and brought her hands down to cover herself. I grabbed her wrists and twisted her arms back up behind her head. "Keep them there." She stood still, arms high, breasts fully exposed, hanging heavily. I stepped behind her and ground my hips into her ass. I reached around and took hold of her breasts, kneading them, playing with them. I ran my fingertips down the long curves of her tits then tweaked her nipples. She yelped from the pain. We stood there for a long time, pressed together as I ran my hands over her, feeling the size of those breasts, their weight, marveling at how firm yet soft they felt. Her arms were trembling now, tiring. She asked if she could lower them. I pushed her toward the lowest branch of a nearby tree and told her to hang on to it, to still keep her arms up high. She had to stretch to hang onto the branch. Her breasts stood out even further from her body. I was incredibly turned on by the sight of this half-naked woman standing there, arms up, tits pushing out an absurd distance from her chest. I stepped towards her again and slipped my fingers down the front of her slacks, into her crotch. She twisted her hips and tightened her thighs against my hand but I was totally out of control now. She let out a little scream as I ripped her slacks open and pulled them down to her ankles. She kept hanging onto the branch overhead but again tried to twist her hips away from me, tried to shield her sex from view. To my surprise - and pleasure - she was wearing pantyhose under her slacks. The smooth silk shimmered on her legs. It was then that I noticed she was not wearing panties. I bent forward and forced her hips back to me. The patch of hair in her crotch was plainly visible, thick and dark. I took a step back and looked her up and down, from her up-stretched arms, down to her enormous pointed tits, down to her full hips covered in dark silk, down to her smooth legs glistening with shimmering hosiery. "Oh, this is nice," I crooned. You're wearing my favorite kind of outfit." I slipped a hand down behind the waistband of her hose, down into the thatch of hair between her thighs, searching for her lips. She whimpered and cringed as she felt my fingers probe between her legs. To my surprise I discovered that her cunt was swollen and wet. I looked up at her. "Hey, it feels like you're ready for me down here. See? You've wanted this all along, haven't you!" She shook her head, said nothing. "Spread your knees," I ordered. She was breathing in short gasps now. I prodded her cunt and then slipped a finger up into her. She shuddered and went rigid as she felt me inside her. I probed her, my finger soaked with her juices. I pumped her cunt for a few minutes, then pulled out and wiped my finger on her tits. I dropped my pants and pointed my stiff cock at her. "Bend over." Obediently she let go of the branch and bent low, hands on knees. Her tits hung down, stretched taut by their own weight. I moved in front of her and took hold of her arms. I pulled her to me, wrapped her arms around my waist and proceeded to prod her face with my cock. Over The Edge, Into The Woods "Suck it," I ordered. "Suck my cock." She hesitated but then slowly her lips parted. I thrust my hips forward and buried my cock into her open mouth. She coughed and gagged. "Suck it" I ordered. She closed her lips around my shaft and drew back. I thrust into her mouth again. She stood there, bent over, her tits swinging in the air as I fucked her mouth. It only took a few minutes of this to start my cock throbbing. I pulled out and lifted her up straight again. Her mouth was wet, a strand of pre-come on her chin. "Give me your ass." She turned her back to me and bent over again, leaning against a tree. Slowly she arched her back and spread her knees, her feet held together by the slacks gathered around her legs. Her ass shone in the glistening nylon. Her swollen cunt bulged against the seam snaking between her legs. "Hey Lady, it looks like you're finally getting the idea. You have a nice ass there, nice and round. I like that - and look at that cunt, all swollen and wet. You want a good fuck, don't you!" I dropped my pants, stepped up behind her and took hold of her hips, pulling them toward me. I bent my knees and prodded between her legs with my searching cock. Her hosiery was smooth and hot against my skin. I ran my palms up and down her thighs, loving the sensual smoothness of the shimmering, glistening nylon. I reached between her legs and pulled at the fabric covering her slit, tearing a hole in it. Once again I pushed my cock between her thighs. I found her waiting cunt and shoved into her with one deep thrust. She grunted and gripped the tree tightly. Her legs were shaking. I thrust into her again, slamming my hips against her ass. I began to fuck her with long, hard strokes. She just stood there and took each thrust deeply. Looking down, I could see her tits swinging from side to side as I banged her. Suddenly I had a thought. I pulled out of her and stood up. She looked back at me, wondering what was happening. "Take your slacks all the way off," I ordered. She bent down and slipped her shoes off, then her slacks. "Put your shoes back on." As she stepped into them, I spread her slacks out on the ground then lay down on them, leaning back on my elbows. My cock stood up straight, pointing at the sky. "Ride me," I ordered. "Get on your knees and ride me." I watched her step over me, straddling my legs. I kept my eyes glued to her body, her huge tits jiggling as she moved, her round hips flexing under the shimmering hosiery. Her shoes extended her legs, making them long and taut. She stared off into the distance as she slowly sank down to her knees. She reached down and parted the lips between her thighs. When her wet cunt was a few inches away from my throbbing shaft I lifted my hips and thrust up into her. She shuddered. I gripped her hips and pumped up into her a few times and then relaxed down to the ground again. "Your turn." She dropped down onto my cock, burying it inside her. Slowly she lifted and eased down again, taking me gingerly. "C'mon woman - faster, harder." She lifted and dropped quickly, once. "Do it again - keep going." She rose and dropped again, then again faster and stronger, increasing her rhythm until she was riding me like a horse. Each lunge made her tits bounce. I played with them, swinging them around, lifting, pulling, stretching, tugging her nipples. "Faster!" She leaned down and put her hands on the ground beside me as she increased her pace. Her tits smashed against my chest. I lifted my shirt and felt her hot skin against mine, her stiff nipples pressing against me. Her eyes were closed tightly. Her rhythm was steady and deep. She took my cock all the way into her, her ass slapping my thighs with each thrust. I looked down between her bouncing, hanging tits and watched her cunt slide up and down my cock. I looked up at her. She was biting her bottom lip. "Oh, yeah baby, you're lovin' it aren't ya!" She shook her head, eyes clamped shut. Suddenly she shivered and her face turned crimson. Her legs shook. Her whole body shuddered. She gasped and moaned. She was cumming! Her eyes were wide open in a blank stare as she did. I was amazed. Even though she was being fucked against her will she was cumming! After a few more moments of this she finally stopped, gasping for breath. She sat back onto her heels and buried my cock deeply inside her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her sweating face. "Hey, that was pretty hot, watching you cum. I knew you wanted a good fuck all along. Ok, it's my turn now," I said. "Get up on your feet and squat down on me." As she slowly rose up, my throbbing shaft slid out of her. That was the other amazing thing: I had somehow managed to hold onto my load. I watched her rise up off of me. For a moment a long string of her cum stretched between her cunt and my cock. She got to her feet and then squatted down over me. Her cunt lips were full, wet and thick. I gripped her hips and pulled up into her again. This new position made it harder to enter her but it tightened her tunnel around my shaft. She tried to steady herself. I pumped my cock into her, shoving it into her cunt as she hovered above me. I ran my hands up and down her legs, enjoying the feel of her smooth hosiery. "Play with your clit. Make yourself cum again while I watch." She hesitated, then slipped a hand between her thighs and began to massage herself. Her tits still hung down low between her knees. I took hold of them and tweaked her nipples, nipples that were still erect, rock hard. I was really going at her now, jamming my cock up into her - hard, deep and fast. I watched my shaft slide up through the hole in her pantyhose, up into her. I watched her tits sway and jiggle as I pounded into her. I felt her fingertips on my cock as she played with her clit. I stretched her enormous tits up and draped them over her knees so they hung outside her legs. I pressed them against her thighs, my fingers digging into those huge globes. At last I could feel the cum building up inside me. A few more deep thrusts and my cock began to pulse, spurting load after hot load into her. My entire body poured into that orgasm. My muscles were rigid as a fountain of cum flowed out of me. Her eyes opened wide as she felt her tunnel fill with my hot juices. She gasped as she realized I was shooting my load up into her cunt. She dropped one hand to the ground, bracing herself as I drove up into her again and again, feeling her tunnel tighten around me even more, her cunt almost on fire. It felt like I could keep cumming for hours. I thrust into her again and again, spurting more cum into her until it was soaking the insides of her thighs, flowing down my shaft. With one last fierce thrust, I drove the hardest erection I'd ever had up into her, up so deeply that her eyes flew open in surprise. I held my hips up off the ground, keeping her impaled on my throbbing cock. Gasping for breath, I finally stopped. I slumped to the ground. She squatted over me, head hanging down, cum oozing out of her. "Hey, that was pretty damn good," I said, grinning at her. "So tell me - you were hoping this might happen after all, weren't you?" Her cheeks flushed. "I certainly did not! I never thought you would do such a thing! I'd have never come here if I thought...!" "Well, that's too bad. I hope you don't have to be anywhere for awhile. I've just gotten started."