8 comments/ 26238 views/ 2 favorites Fame By: AvgWhiteMan Fame can hit a man in two ways. He can get famous overnight, become the new big thing, and suddenly have his name in lights all over town. Or, fame can ease up on him, in a sneaky sort of way, and make him well-known without making him equal parts famous and infamous, which the first kind of fame always seems to do. That kind can engulf a man, distort his priorities, erode his senses, and leave him broken on the back page of a society insert in some nothing newspaper in some nowhere place like Kalamazoo or Tulsa or Amarillo. The second kind, if the man plays it right, can last a lifetime, and follow a man in a long line of sympathy and fondness, right into his well-attended grave. He might even have some real, red-blooded, male kind of fun with it, too. Wolf Williams was just a regular guy, with a few quirks (no serious man is without contradictions), and a knack for the right word in the right place at the right time. He might have had a little bit of luck on his side, too. One day he was a rather ordinary copy editor at a small town newspaper, and the next he was a rising columnist, still at that small town newspaper, but with a big city sense of how to read people and how to tell the world what he thought of it. That part happened fast. The wife of a senor editor was a regular columnist, but she had gotten the itch to go back to school. Her spot was open. Wolf had written only a few short pieces, but enough to catch the eye of the publisher, who wanted to see what he could do with some real space to work. The job was his on a temporary basis. If he caught the attention of enough readers, then, well, there might be some permanent writing in his future. He got to work, and his first column was a hit the moment it was published. Soon, the Wednesday spot was his, and an occasional Sunday piece was assigned to him. After six weeks, he was the paper's leading recipient of e-mails. Life was good, and getting better. After a six-month run of unqualified success, people started to notice him about town. His face appeared in the column head every week, and although it wasn't a particularly memorable face, if people see something often enough, they get used to it, and soon enough start to see that very thing standing out in crowds. Wolf's face soon stood out in crowds at restaurants, movie theaters, convenience stores, you name it. "Hey, Wolf!" and "Yo, Wolfman!" became regular features of his bike rides and jogs around the town of just over fifteen-thousand people. (There were even a few "You suck, jerk off!" kind of catcalls, but Wolf took the bad with the good.) Eventually, Wolf's name got so familiar in the mind of the locals that they started coming up and talking to him, like they had known him all their lives. Some even sat down next to him at bars and restaurants, never minding that often he was reading a favorite author or writing out a new column longhand on a notepad. But Wolf's good nature led the folks into feeling they really had know him all along, and the conversations often lasted an hour or more. It was that very scenario that led Wolf to discover a perk like no other: the effortless hook-up. On a quiet Monday evening (one of Wolf's regular nights off), he was alone at a table at his favorite restaurant. He had the big screen TV in front of him, tuned to a football game, and his notepad on the table. As he wrote, a shadow came looming over his shoulder. No words followed, so he dropped his pen and looked up. "Hello," she said, followed by a smile topped with friendly, even eager, eyes. "I'm Karen." "I'm Wo-" "I know you. Or, I should say, I know who you are, Mr. Williams." "Wolf, please." He stood and pulled out a chair. "Thank you, Wolf." She shook his hand before taking her seat. Wolf ordered another Coke (a tee-totaler; no one's perfect) and sat down. "Having anything?" "No, I'm fine," she said. They let their eyes linger on one another for a few seconds before she broke the spell by looking down at his notes. "I hope I didn't disturb a masterpiece in process." "Huh? Oh, no, of course not." They laughed together. "My next masterpiece would be my first, I think." "Oh, come on! That column you wrote on Mr. Darren Brock, the retiring Latin professor. Pure gold. Just genius." "Why that's very kind of you to say. Thank you." he nodded to her, and she beamed a smile, her best yet, at him. "I believe you won something for that one. Am I right?" "Yes, yes. In fact I did. Thank you for remembering that." he tilted his glass of Coke at her, as if making a mock "Cheers." "Actually, that's why I came over to you." "Oh?" "Yes. I'm Mrs. Brock." She smiled even broader and brighter still. She had just the friendliest face he thought he'd ever seen. He reflexively reached down for his pen. "Are you asking me to sign the column?" He had gotten used to people carrying old issues of his work and asking for autographs, a practice he reluctantly agreed to. "Oh, no, Mr. Wil-.. Wolf. I would never impose on you that way. I really ju-" "Oh, no, that would be no trou-" "I just want you to fuck me." Wolf swallowed his sentence, He cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Well..." was all he said. Then he turned to look at the football game on the big screen. He took a long drink from his Coke, noticing the sound of the ice banging against the sides of the glass. He set the glass down and swirled it, watching and listening to the ice go round and round. "Oh, my god! You're married! Are you married? Oh, no!" "Nope," he said. He took another slow drink and replaced the glass on the table. "I've embarrassed you! I'm so sorry!" He turned to look at her. "Karen, do you mind walking to my place?" He got her friendliest smile yet. --------------------- "You're younger than I imagined," she said. They climbed the back stairs to his second floor apartment. She had not stopped explaining herself the whole four blocks it took to get to his place. "And you must think I'm crazy to be my age -- I'm almost 53 -- and just go up to a stranger and say 'fuck' the way I did." Fifty-fucking three? Shit, she doesn't look it, he thought. Maybe it's that black dress. He put the key in the door and turned on a light when he got inside. "God, I haven't been this bold since I was -' "Karen." "Yes?" She was still in the hallway. "Do you want to come inside?" "I do!" He reached for a wrist and pulled her in, letting the door slam itself shut. He pushed her against a wall and let his hands run up through the blond hair on both sides of her head. He looked her dead in the eyes and lingered for just a second before kissing her as deeply as he could. She sagged into the wall and moaned. He pressed his hips into hers and let his chest ease into her tits. She practically threw her hands around his waist and squeezed. He reached down and threw them off him. "Don't!" "But I-" He put a hand to her mouth. "I'll touch you." He kissed her again, as deeply as before. The moment his tongue was deepest, and her moans were starting, her ripped her dress apart at the chest. Her arms fell limp at her sides as she moaned; almost from the toes up he could feel the energy of it, guttural, carnivorous. Her body shook. Instinctively her hands reached for him. He batted them away, pushing her back into the wall until she was a part of it. He lifted a knee and massaged her clit with it, or near enough to it that she humped his knee and nearly collapsed to the floor while doing it. He stood her up at the shoulders and drew his mouth from hers. He slid down to her neck, then to an ear, letting his tongue work deep into it. "Good god! Oh! Oh! Oh! My god kiss me again!!!" "Shut up." He whipped her around so she faced the wall. He yanked her hips back and let her ass -- as welcome on a 30-year-old as it was on her 53-year-old body -- sink into crotch. "Oh, YES! I feel it in there, Wolf!" She grinded her hips back and expertly massaged his cock through his pants. "GOD I want it!!" "Quiet." He reached around and grabbed both tits, ripping away the bra and pulling the breasts apart by stretching the nipples. "YESSSSS!" she squealed, sending her ass massage into hyperdrive. "MY GOD FUCK ME NOW PLEASE DON'T WAIT GOD DO IT NOW PLEASE WOLF!!" He obliged, but not right away. He let go of her tits and slapped her ass, first on one cheek, through her dress, and then on the other. "OH!" "What did you ask me to do?" "FUCK ME FUCK ME PLEASE! PLEASE BABY!!" SLAP! SLAP! "AGGHHH!!! OH BABY YESSSS!!" "You said fuck you? Now?" "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!! NOW OH GOD FUCK ME HARD!!" SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!" He lifted the dress off her ass. Her panties he tore down in a second. He made sure she could hear the clang of his belt buckle and the rip of his zipper. He jammed three fingers into her cunt from the back. "JEEEEEEEEE-SUS!!!!" she cried out. He slipped his dick into his hand like it was a shoehorn and went deep on the first stroke, tugging her hips back into him and ramming all the way to the core. She tried to scream but could only let out a breath so deep her chest nearly deflated. She threw both hands against the wall, bracing herself, as her head bobbed up and down between her shoulders. She then shook her head side to side. Still no scream, only breaths. Behind her, Wolf slammed all his meat -- thick and veined and muscular like a lumberjack's forearm -- as deep as he could. His thrusts were hard, and full speed, but his retractions were slow, measured, calculated.... she felt every vein rub across every inch of her inner walls. As he was just about to withdraw all the way to the tip of his dick, he paused, then slammed back in all eight and a half inches until it hit home inside. Juice flew out. Air escaped in farts. He was relentless, merciless. He paid attention to his own pulse. If it was above 70, it was just barely. He began matching the strokes to his heartbeat, a rhythm that threatened to drive her head into the wall. In a move she never felt coming, he grabbed her hips and flipped her, like a gymnast rolling to her side, legs flying upward. Her ass landed on the ottoman, his dick still in her. She had swiveled right up and over it. Once on her back, she drew a breath, finally, and gathered the power to scream. "MY GOD MY GOD HOW DID YOU DO THAT OH GOD OH GOD AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHH KEEP FUCKING ME!!!!!!!" "Okay." He went whole hog on her now, driving into her and pulling out with no regard for pain or injury. he flipped her legs up to his shoulders and leaned forward. Every inward thrust slammed his dick head into some part of her that was not meant to be slammed into. She didn't care, or didn't feel it. Either way, she reached over her head, grabbed what she could for support, and dug in for all she could bare. "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YESS MY GOD MY GOD MY GOD!!!!" At that moment, he sensed it. He grabbed her ankles and held them together, high over them both, and leaned her legs to her head. When he felt his dick nestle into her g-spot, he started jerking her legs up and down, stopping his own motions altogether and using her legs to create every sensation. She was not ready for it. "AAAAGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMING OH NO OH NO OH NO OOOOOOOOOOOOOO GODDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!" The squirts poured out, shooting up into his stomach, others going out the bottom and soaking his balls in a liquid envelope of heat and stickiness and twat lather. The smell of it all energized him, and he changed her position again, this time turning her to her side and slamming into her in a half doggy position as she lay on her side. 'JESUS! JESUS! YESSSSSSSSSS!!! WHAT? WHAT'S THAT? OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!!!' He reached down and twisted a nipple; she screamed again. He watched the flesh of her tits jiggle and bounce and flutter in waves. He pulled and played with the nipple. She was thrashing, a fish on shore, a wire cut and wriggling, with sparks shooting all over. But he could tell her energy was waning. The orgasms were relentless. SHe hed her face buried in the pillow, saving her throat as the screams muffled into the fabric. Her limit was in sight, and she let him know. "i can't... i can't... please.. oh my god.... never... oh my god... can we stop? please? oh my... god..... god.... i just need... a need .. a.." "You need some cock up your ass." "NO! NEVER DON'T DO-" He let two fingers soak in the cum running out of her and then slipped them up her exposed ass. Her head shot into the pillows and she screamed. His cock began thrusting deeper and faster again, his fingers up her ass matching perfectly. "Take that. Take it. Take it and cum and never say 'No' again." 'OOOOHHHHHHH MY GOD YES! YES YES YESYESYESYESYES!!!!!!! JESUS CHRIST GOD YESSSS FUCK ME MOTHER FUCKER YESYESYES!!!!" She was cumming again and close to passing out now. She was losing breath again, burying her face deeper into the pillow. He took his fingers out of her ass and pulled her hair, lifting her head and her face off the pillow. "Is this what you wanted? This is what you came here for? This is why you read my shit when I write it?" "YESSSSS! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD YES YES YES!!!! FUCK ME, MY GOD I NEVER CUM NEVER CUM MY GOD!!!!" "Are you cumming now?" "YESSSSS!! I CAN'T FUCKING STOP CAN'T STOP MY GOD MY GOD!!! PLEASE!!!" "Please what?" "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!" "Please what? Please stop?" "YES!!! PLEASE!!! OH MY GOD..." "Stop so you can suck my cock?" "YES! YES! YES! CUM FOR ME BABY CUM NOW BABY!!" "So you can drink it, drink that fucking cum?" "YES! YES! CUM FOR ME! CUM BABY I WANT IT!!" He pulled his cock out of her and rolled her onto her back. He stood and moved so he was next to her face. She opened her mouth weakly so he grabbed her hair and pulled her forward. His cock slid into her mouth. The cum splattered out as soon she closed her mouth around the shaft. He pulled her deep onto his dick and pumped as much cum as he could. She gulped, licked, sucked, gasped.... her hands around him, pulling him closer by his ass cheeks. She sucked as deeply as she could, surprising him with her energy. Done, he pulled out. She collapsed. He looked down. Her hair was mangled, wet, helter skelter. She laid across the ottoman like a corpse. The black dress was in tatters, hanging off her hips as a limp afterthought. He quietly left her to get a glass of water and bring it into the room. Slowly her breath came back to her. So did her thoughts; after a while the dizziness wore off. She tried to reconcile the polite man in the restaurant with the insatiable demon who had left her for near-dead.She looked around for him. He came out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of water. He sat them on a table next to her and sat on the chair near the ottoman. She sat up. The friendly smile was back. She brushed the matted hair back over her forehead and reached for a glass. he lifted it and handed it to her. "Thank you." "You're Welcome." "God!" she let out, breathlessly. "What?" "Just..... God! I never expected... that!" He smiled, almost awkwardly. Poor girl, he thought. Does she know it's only eight-thirty? What will she be like at eleven? "Have any other women.... ever...." "Ever what?" "Ever.... you know.... oh, never mind." He smiled, friendlier this time. "Tell me." "Yes?" "What did your husband think of that column." "Oh, he loved it!" "Really? How nice!" "Everyone we know loved it. They read you all the time." "Do they now? Who is 'they?'" "All our friends. My girlfriends just love you." "Is that so.................?" ----------------------- Fame can just ease up on a man, and if he plays it right.. Fame and the Maiden [This is a story of BDSM activity that is not intended for all tastes. Please do not read this is you are bothered by extreme activities such as humiliation, fisting, pee play, and so on.] In this evolving age, it is becoming less and less true that there are certain commonly agreed upon ways that one does and does not act. And perhaps the last vestiges of the old propriety break down most completely in the face of celebrity, especially so-called superstars. Our hero (?) was one of these. He was the lust object of hundreds of millions of women, probably tens of millions of men, and the object of envy of most of the rest. He knew he could have almost any woman for the asking, and when he got bored or mischievous he sometimes enjoyed exploiting this. Tonight was one such occasion. It was a small private party on a rural estate with very rich and connected guests. Business types, powerful and respected. Not celebrities, but prominent in the local area. He had had his staff do a little preliminary research on the prospective guests, and had a short list of women he found interesting. It was one of those parties where everyone was dressed to the nines, dressed to impress and kill. Guests were mingling before dinner, the women trying to blind each other with their diamonds. Not a group of intimate friends, but they all knew each other as members of the upper echelon of their city. There were many snobs, some insufferable. No-one other than the host had known he was coming. When he arrived, a little late, virtually everyone was shocked and gushing, eager to have contact or just be able to associate themselves with the great face, the great name. He pretended to make small talk briefly with a few as he moved around the room. He knew they would have done virtually anything for him, and he derived a sadistic pleasure sometimes from demonstrating this. He met S, and she was completely tongue tied. She was a figure of much respect in the community, considered a hot looker (if slightly heavy), as well as an accomplished businesswoman. Beautiful, independent and rich, a catch virtually unattainable for all so far. After he asked her a couple of harmless questions, she became increasingly incoherent. She was actually having a personal conversation with this man, and she knew that millions of women would envy her; would do anything to be in her place. She couldn't imagine what she could do or say to please him, but she desperately wanted to try. The one clear thought she had was that she wanted him, and she would do anything she could to get him; or failing that, to get closer to him. Any small corner of paradise was still a part of paradise. During their conversation she was having difficulty thinking straight. When he reached over to her while he was chatting and started to squeeze and fondle her breast she was thrilled and humiliated. Her immediate desire was to offer herself totally. If she had thought about it or cared she would have known that all the women in the room (and surprisingly many of the men!) were both shocked and deeply envious that she was being molested by him. After this warmup he said "You seem to have very nice tits. Can I have a look at them?" She didn't hesitate, but immediately reached into the top of her dress and pulled out both of her breasts for him to handle and squeeze. She was deeply humiliated and thrilled and she almost had an orgasm just from exposing herself to him and to everyone else at the party. "You would do just about anything for me, wouldn't you?" he asked. She was in shock, and on fire with lust. She desperately wanted to throw herself at him, and in truth possibly might have died for him at that moment. "Please, what do you want, let me know, let me do it for you, let me give you." After he continued to molest her tits for a while, continuing to chat, he looked like he suddenly had a thought. "I know! Why don't you strip naked for me? You seem like a fairly good-looking piece of fuck meat. Show me your cunt and ass." Her dress was off almost before he finished the question, she slid it right down along with her bra and panties. The other guests were gathered around now, intently looking and listening, and starting to subtly touch themselves as they looked at her, and at him, imagining touching her or being her; imagining being in her place and being naked for him. He reached into her cunt in front of everyone, and talked about how she felt; how surprisingly wet she was, and how hot she seemed to be. Suddenly he appeared to have another thought. "I need to piss. Do you know where I can find a toilet around here? Can you help me?" "Huh?" She was already in shock, and the question seemed like emotional whiplash. "Uh, uh, um, what can I do? Uh..." "I know. Why don't you bend over and suck the piss out of my cock? That way I won't have to leave these lovely people or your lovely self." He reached over and put his hand at the back of her head and pulled. She was in turmoil; but at the same time she was thinking about how she was somehow entering into some kind of weird sex orgy with a god, and this was the luckiest moment of her life. She was disgusted too, but completely overwhelmed by lust and desire and awe. She was being summoned by the great face, and she had the backbone and resistance of a puppy. Her nipples were like rocks, her legs were slick with the juice running down her thighs, and her cunt and entire body were on fire. She started to kneel, but he stopped her and said loudly "No, bend over, and leave your ass and cunt in the air. Spread your legs and ass cheeks wider to expose yourself and open yourself to everyone that might want to fuck you. Now open my pants and take my cock into your mouth so I can piss in you." She was horrified, and humiliated, and helpless to do anything other than obey. She bent over and fumbled with his fly with badly trembling fingers, zipping him down and pulling out his cock. He was getting a sadistic charge from what she was letting him do to her and even more from what she was doing to herself. She bent forward and took his hard cock between her lips, sealed her lips around him, and began to suck. He immediately released his piss into her. He was at least careful enough to start slow, so she would not immediately have to stop; but as soon as she started to successfully swallow he let loose full blast. She gagged badly, choked, but bravely continued to suck and swallow as much as she could, even while some splashed on her face, and spilled on the expensive carpet beneath. When he was done, and she had licked him clean, he pulled her upright by her hair. "Is your cunt still wet?" He reached down and started to push fingers into her. "Yes, please, fill me. Do what you want. Take me." He chuckled, and continued to drive deeper into her. Have you ever had a fist inside your cunt? You seem tight." "No, not yet.... But please, fill me, shove your hand into me, fill me, take me, do whatever you want with me...." All the guests were extremely turned on by now. Some women and a few men were surreptitiously masturbating. Watching S transform herself into a blatant filthy slut before their eyes was making everyone unbelievably horny. Plans for dinner were shot ‒ this party was going to degenerate (depending on your point of view!) into a lot of fucking, and soon. Finally he had worked his entire hand up into her cunt. He pumped it slowly, deeper and deeper. She was letting go slowly, but it was tight. At the same time she was starting to cum, and she knew it was going to be a big one. He pushed his forearm deep up inside her and put his other hand behind her back, then lifted her bodily by her cunt, slinging her naked body over his shoulder. He straightened up with his forearm still inside her and walked over to the host to say goodbye and thank you. He turned to the rest, saying that he was taking her to keep in a cage in the barn with the other animals on his estate and they were all free to come and visit her to fuck her cunt and ass and mouth and use her any way they liked. When he got finally tired of her he would toss her naked out into the countryside, and they were free to come and get her to use her any way they liked. In the meantime he wanted to announce a little contest for the rest of the night. Whichever woman fucked the most and the best and the kinkiest here tonight would be invited to visit him and get fucked and used by him as much as he liked. The winner was to be adjudicated by the Host and however many of the men and a few women he cared to deputize as fuck judges. He then walked out of the house with S still naked and impaled and slung over his shoulder like a small pig, like the possession she had become.