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Fail

By: Rocketspeedfish



I have failed as a father and husband. What will my children say when I tell them we have to move into a smaller home, that they'll have to change schools, that they won't be receiving presents as often, that seeing their father one day out of the week will have to suffice? Will they be disappointed in me? Will they look down on me? They would probably ask for a new father as their current father is functioning ineffectively.

What about my wife? My poor, beautiful wife. I promised her this neighborhood, this house, these cars, but what will she say when I have to sell them all? Will she still love me?

Everything came to a screeching halt when I received a letter from the IRS stating that I had owed back taxes, with interest. I conned my way out of paying taxes for nearly a decade thinking that I'd go legit sooner or later. How bad could it be? A million, or maybe a million and a half at most. No, my entire net worth of four million dollars was expected to be paid in full. My businesses were liquidated and I was bankrupt.

My heart was heavy and I felt sick in the stomach as I walked up to my six bedroom, six bath, four car garage, 5,000sqft house. Luckily it was summer and my two children, Christy and Matt, were away at summer camp. My wife greeted me with a smile and a kiss. She was dressed nicely and looked to be on her way out. My mouth opened but I couldn't force myself to speak. I saw her pull out of the driveway with her jet black Lexus LS 460 I had bought her only a month ago. I waved goodbye, headed inside the house, closed the door, and proceeded to break down in tears. I was nervous, my heart rate seemed to match how fast my bank account was draining.

I tried to resist from using drugs or alcohol to numb the pain, but eventually I got drunk. My wife, Sam, arrived later that night. I heard her pull into the garage and and heard a noticeable thump on the hardwood floor, probably from all the shopping she had done. Her heels clicked up the stairs until they stopped at our bedroom door.

She appeared to be an angel when she opened those doors. Not a single day passed without me realizing how lucky I was. I praised her every day for all of her qualities. I never felt that I deserved her and now felt that I would lose her. Sam was a mother of two and just around the corner from turning 40, but damn did she look good. Her thick, silky blonde hair was constantly changing lengths and styles but was always in perfection. Even without makeup she looked beautiful, but the way she applied and dolled herself up was nothing short of a daily masterpiece. She lacked wrinkles even when she seemed to smile so often. I bought her perfect, plastic tits just after I had bought our first house and car. They looked amazing on her and always grabbed the attention of other men. Her ass was always full with a set of thick thighs as well. Recently, I noticed her hips getting a bit wider which only made me enjoy our doggy style fucks all the more. She is such a passionate lover as well. She moans and screams and feels and touches and sucks and fucks making me want to cum with each breath. There she was, my perfect wife, about to be shattered by reality and broken as I was.

Tears rolled down her eyes as I began to tell her what was going on and what we would need to do in order to stay somewhat a float. 

She was angry, "No. Fuck that John. I'm not giving my life up. Isn't there anything you can do? Have you talked to Jerry?"

Jerry was our lawyer. "I have and I have begged him to help me, but I fucked up bad this time. They have overwhelming evidence of my unpaid taxes. They were - the fucking sons of bitches - were waiting for me this whole time."

She continued to cry ruining her makeup. She tried to stay calm as she called friends and family. People she thought she could rely on showed their true faces by offering only their condolences.

"Are you leaving me?" I asked the only question that really mattered to me anymore. If she was going to leave me then it would be good in a way. I would have nothing to live for and I could end everything right there, but if she wanted to stay, if she wanted to fight, I would fight with all my life and give my entire being to making her happy once more.

She broke down into tears again as she crouched down beside me, "After all we've been through, do you think that's the only thing I care about? I love you John and I always will. Please don't give up, I don't want to leave our home, and what will I tell Matt and-" she broke down even more thinking about our children. It hit me again when I thought about our poor children. "We can make this work John, we just have to work. I promise I'll help too. Let's do this together."

It was decided on that night that we wouldn't go down without a fight even if it meant working three or four jobs at a time.

Months had passed and we were taking on severe debt. The mortgage alone was burying us with debt. Sam had picked up a job at a massage parlor and I was working three jobs, three shifts a day, 7 days a week. Besides my lunch breaks, I only had time to sleep when I got home. Needless to say both our morale and sex drive went completely down the drain. 

Sam looked a bit worried when I arrived home one night. 

"Are the kids asleep?" I asked.

"Yeah. Did you eat?"

"Yeah. Austin let the night crew have the buffet leftovers for the night."

"That's good," She laid in bed staring at the ceiling. It felt as if she was hinting towards me asking if there was a problem.

I bit, "Is something bothering you?"

"No, let's go to bed." She quickly rolled onto her side and shut her eyes.

A few more months passed and our situation didn't improve whatsoever. We had sold all the cars and we were on the verge of losing the house. I couldn't make enough in wages and tips and to be honest, Sam wasn't contributing enough for us to start a savings. We would only be able to hang on for another month before we would be evicted. 

"John," she woke me in the middle of the night.

"What's wrong honey?" I asked keeping my eyes closed.

"I don't think our financial situation is getting any better and I was thinking..."

"Don't worry honey. We'll be fine. Something will turn out." I lied through my teeth and mentally prepared myself since the beginning of our bankruptcy to sell and move out of the house.

"Well there's this guy at work."

"A guy?"

"I mean, a client. He's a customer that comes in once or twice a week."

"Is he bothering you?"

"No no no, he's very sweet and he's an older gentleman," She paused and took a deep breath, "well, he offered to be my benefactor."

"What the hell is a benefactor?" I hoped that it didn't sound as I assumed.

"You know, he'd take care of me financially."

"And in return you'd be doing what exactly? Prostituting yourself?" It infuriated me thinking of another man using my wife for his sexual desires.

"It's not like we have many options John. Will you just stay calm and listen to me?"

I couldn't believe we were even talking about this.

"Like I said, he's really old and I think he just wants a pretty face to be next to him every now and then."

"Sam, I don't like this idea at all. Please, give me some more time and I promise we'll make it through."

"It's been more than half a year. I'm not stupid honey. We'll lose the house by next month if we don't start paying."

"What's his name?"

"Stan. He really is sweet."

"I'm just worried about your safety. That sounds like some seriously weird shit to me."

"So if I weren't your wife and you saw me, you wouldn't try to buy me?"

"That's not what I meant Sam. You're more than that... you know you can't be bought."

"Exactly, so why are you so worried? I'll always be yours. You know that. But losing this house isn't something I'm willing to give up. If I have to date an old geezer a few times, you're damn right I'll do it."

I knew she always loved our house and it was useless trying to convince her otherwise. "So how much is this guy paying?"

"$1,000 a date."

"Holy shit," I wasn't expecting that high of a figure. "What exactly are the ground rules?"

"Well I told him that I had a husband and a family and that I wasn't willing to have any type of sexual intercourse with him. He insisted that wasn't what he was after and told me that he just wanted my presence. You know, to look nice for him."

The offer suddenly turned into a gold mine. No sexual services and probably a peck on the lips at most. Why weren't we doing this before? "That actually sounds okay with me Sam," I sighed in relief.

"If this goes well, you might not have to work so many jobs either." She snuggled up next to me and crammed her head onto my shoulder. She smelt fresh and sweet as she always did.

"When will you start?"

"The first date is tomorrow. Do you want to meet him?"

"I think it's better if I don't. Besides, I'll probably be working overtime anyway."

Our conversation ended there and we went to bed a little easier that night. Maybe things were starting to look up for a change. 

I went to work as usual the next day. I had a two hour break between my 2nd and 3rd shift when I would get home around 5. I wanted to catch Sam before she left to tell her that I loved her and that I had forgot to thank her. I arrived to the house with just the kids.

"Where's mom guys?"

"She went out," Christy my younger child responded.

"Do you know when?"

"Just a second ago. She looked very pretty. Is she going to a party Daddy?" Christy always looked up to her mom.

"Yes she is!"

"Are you going too Daddy?"

"No. Sorry, Daddy has to go back to work." I forced a smile trying to create the illusion that it was something that I actually enjoyed doing. I was about to head upstairs to change when Sam's phone rang. She was notorious for forgetting her cell phone.

The caller was labeled as Stan. Maybe it was Sam trying to get in touch with me. I answered cautiously, "Hello?"

"Oh pardon me, is Samantha there?" His voice was deep and sounded a bit croaky. His voice definitely matched the way my wife had described him. He sounded weak and old.

"Who is this?" I asked a bit pissed off.

"It seems that I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Stan. You must be John, Samantha's Husband. She's told me a lot about you."

I didn't want to ruin things right out the gate, "She just left." I wanted this man off the phone as soon as possible to maintain what little dignity I had left.

"Ah. I see her now. Wow she sure looks stunning. How could I ever repay you for being such a generous man John?" I heard the door open and I could hear my wife's voice greet Stan's.

I sat in silence not wanting to alarm my wife. I could hear the two of them clearly. "Did I interrupt your call?" Sam asked.

"No not at all Samantha. I was just talking to a very generous friend."

It was silent for a minute.

"Aren't we going somewhere?"

"Do we have to?" Stan asked cheekily. "Sorry, I just want to take a minute to fully indulge in your beauty. That dress fits perfectly on you. How do you like it?"

"Honestly?"

"I couldn't ask for anything less,"

"It's a bit thin, kind of tight, and very revealing."

"But you look so beautiful in it. I think this style suits your perfectly Ms. Samantha."

"You know I'm married Stan."

"That's right, your husband John," I felt exposed and thought of ending the call but I kept listening, "does he buy you dresses like these?"

"No. John doesn't really care for what I wear. I dictate my own fashion."

"Oh that's a shame. If you were my wife, I guess you technically are right now, I would be showing you off every possible way I could."

Sam laughed at his gesture, I guess he must've been at least somewhat charming. I was worried now. Praying to God that my wife wouldn't fall for his tricks.

Were they driving? I couldn't tell, it had been more than five minutes since he had picked her up but the engine was running in the background the entire time.

"You still haven't told me where we are going."

"I was hoping to get to know you a little better. Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, this car is very big and different from the one I see you usually driving."

"Well, I am an old man afterall. To tell you the truth, my assistant is usually driving me around. I only drove my car to your parlor to try and impress you. It looks like it worked."

She laughed again but it sounded a bit forced.

"I can't be the only man that's been mesmerized by your beauty. Tell me Samantha, what is a beautiful woman like yourself working your bones in a massage parlor? If you don't mind me asking." 

She hesitated, "Let's just say that I need to live at a certain standard."

"Surely your husband is able to provide for you, does he not work?"

"He does," she almost exclaimed at my defense, "all day. All night. Seven days a week."

"No wonder he was able to snatch you up. He sounds like a very hard working man."

I still wasn't sure whether or not Stan had left me on the phone intentionally or accidentally but their conversation wasn't anything for me to get worked up over. I needed to get ready and catch the bus or I would have been late. I decided to put my faith in the two and end the conversation there.

I ended up leaving the bar I worked at around 2AM. I got home by 3 and noticed that Samantha still wasn't home. Now I was concerned. I went to Samantha's phone and noticed several missed calls from Stan. What was going on?

I called him about to chew him out and threaten to call the cops but surprisingly Samantha answered, "Hey honey,"

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

"Sorry, I just lost track of time over here. Were on our way - ahh -" She let out a faint moan attempting to pull the phone away from her.

"Samantha? Are you okay?" What the fuck was that about?

"Sorry, I just had a little bit to drink."

That fucking bastard was trying to get my wife drunk. "When will you be home?"

"Hold on, we're almost done."

Done? What did she mean by that?

"I'll call you right back honey." She hung up on me. I waited by the window staring out into the empty street. Ten minutes seemed like an eternity when headlights peered at a stop sign. It was a huge SUV a model I hadn't seen before, roughly the size of a Hummer.

The SUV parked in my driveway as Stan crippled his way out of the car with the help of his assistant. He opened the door for Samantha who was wearing a very low cut, mini skirt black dress. He offered his arm around her hip as she needed assistance getting to the door. I wondered if I should greet them but decided to act like I was asleep. I heard the car drive away while Samantha was in the downstairs bathroom. She spent some time in there before finally coming up to our room. I didn't greet her and soon fell asleep.

I headed to work early the next morning finding my wife passed out next to me in her ordinary pajamas. From my quick inspection I couldn't identify any foul play. Then again, seeing Stan for who he really was; an old man close to death, made me feel a bit better about the ordeal. It bothered me that entire day. My wife should not be going around that late at night with another man. What if the other neighbors were to see her. I cowered away from the subject and decided to get lost in my work. 

The dates went on for about two months. She met with Stan two to three times a week. She had been much better at keeping curfew and was always home before I got home. She was making enough now, from Stan, that I was able to quit my 3rd shift job and start focusing on rebuilding my business.

We were able to afford a car and slowly getting back on our feet. Still, I didn't like it when she'd leave me to meet Stan.

It was a Friday night and I had taken a late afternoon nap resulting in waking up near midnight. I woke up and found a note next to me from my wife, "Gone out with Stan, I'll be home later. Love Sam."

***End Chapter: John***

It had been a week since my husband, John, had informed me that we were bankrupt. I admit, I might have overreacted at the time but now that I've had some time to rest and meditate about my current situation, I've been able to calm myself down. I calmed myself down by making a list. A list of the most important things with my family being at the very top. Yes, I was blessed that I had a healthy family and we were at least able bodied to somehow manage through this hardship. I brought myself to believe that we were being tested by the good lord. Now don't judge me based on my religious beliefs. That is how I am able to cope with all of this.

I've been working at a massage parlor for just a few days; the owner is a college friend of mine. I took two classes on massage therapy in my past. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't exciting either. My instructor told me I had a great sense of the human body and my hands, although small, were the best massage that he's ever received. I don't know if he was being serious, but it didn't really matter since I wasn't pursuing a career in the field. 

"Hey Sam. Do you mind closing up today? Pat needs to work late and I need to pick up the kids." Jaime asked.

"Sure thing hun." I noticed that I only had an hour left anyway and there wasn't a rush getting back home so I sat.

Things ran pretty smoothly at the massage parlor. We'd rarely get walk ins and usually our day consisted of regulars with set appointments. To many of our clients, it was apart of their daily routine. Because my schedule was clear, I was counting down the minutes until I could go home. Barely ten minutes were left when I heard the bell ring 'Of course.'

"Hi, how are you?" I asked the customer. "What can I do for you?"

"I got a terrible back cramp and I was wondering if a lovely lady like yourself could help me out."

"I'm sorry sir, but we're just about to close. How about coming in tomorrow morning?"

"Please," the old man pleaded, "I'll make it worth your time." He pulled out his wallet and pulled a handful of 100 dollar bills. There must have been at least 2,000 in his hand.

I was desperate, and even though this guy didn't seem like he had the best intentions, I couldn't refuse a potentially generous tipper. I closed the store and turned off the display lights. "Thank you so much Ms.?" 

"You can call me Sam. Please follow me." As I lead him to the changing rooms, I could feel his eyes on my body, primarily my behind. I giggled inside thinking such an old man like him was still just a pervert at heart. "Please change into this robe and come into the room down the hall and first door on the right. Room 3"

"Thank you Ms. Samantha. I won't be late." But he was late. Ten minutes had passed and I had suddenly began imagining the worst. The man was so old I wondered if he had passed away suddenly. Jaime would not be happy with this. I was just about to check on him when he appeared at the door. "I apologize for my tardiness. You'll have to forgive me. I'm getting old."

"Don't worry about it Mr. - I'm sorry, I never asked you what your name was."

"Stan. Stan Hardawick," 'Hardawick?' I had heard that name before.

"Well then please take a seat Mr. Hardawick."

"Oh please call me Stan. You shouldn't make me feel as old as I am."

I laughed, "Ok Stan, what seems to be the problem?"

"As I mentioned before, my lower back is extremely stiff. I was hoping you could work your magic and untangle some of the knots I have."

"Sure, can you lie down on your stomach?" I began massaging him as I did to all my clients. He was right, he had several knots that needed a deep tissue massage. I worked my finger tips into what bone and muscle he had left as he let out moans and sighs of relief.

I finished about half an hour later. He thanked me immensely, left a hundred dollar tip, and was on his way. He stopped in regularly and we developed a professional relationship. My first impressions of him being a creeper slowly slipped away.


Fail



I was making $500 in tips from Stan alone in a week. I always told him it was too much and that he shouldn't have been spoiling me, but the more I asked him to stop, the more he gave. I was happy to have found such a generous man but I knew I couldn't rely on him forever. He stopped coming in for his regular massage and I was back to working like a grunt. Another month would pass before I saw him again.

It was odd, just like the first time I met him, I was left to close the store when he walked in just before I was going to lock up. "It's been awhile Samantha."

"Stan," I greeted him with a smile, "Yeah, where have you been?" Money was tight and I knew we would lose the house soon if I didn't start pulling my own weight. I needed Stan's tip.

"Oh, have you missed me."

"Of course. Disappearing on me like that. I thought we were better friends than that."

"I would've told you sooner, but it was an emergency. Please forgive me for being so rude."

"I was joking Stan. There's no need to apologize. So what are you here for?"

"Actually, I was hoping that you might be interested in providing a different service."

"What kind of service?" I got a bad gut feeling.

"I'm not a man to beat around the bush so again, please forgive me for being blunt, but I want to take you out on a date."

"Stan, you know that I'm married," I was flattered, but he was a man after all.

"Like I've said before: I'll make it worth your while." I knew he was financially well off, but I felt like a prostitute if I would agree.

"If you don't want a massage, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

His face changed from an ambitious explorer to a timid old man, "I didn't mean to offend you. Well then, I'll stop by in later." I let out a sigh of relief. What was wrong with me? For a second, I could have sworn I had considered his offer.

More months passed and more past due notices kept piling our mailbox. Things weren't getting better at home and time was against us.

I laid in bed that night thinking more and more about stan. If he was willing to toss me a few hundred dollar bills for a massage, how much more would he give me for being his date? Surely, he's rational and wouldn't try anything perverse. I could set ground rules and negotiate the terms of our date. Would John be okay with this? We don't have many choices left, I need to do something.

"John?"

He was fast asleep. Lately, he'd sleep any chance he got from working so hard. Yes, we're old, but I'm still a woman. I felt emotionally and sexually neglected. I was being selfish if I brought it up to John. Besides, he was working so hard for our family, while I wasn't doing all that I could be doing. I needed to make a decision.

Another day with a clear schedule. I was holding the phone with Stan's number in my hand. I hesitantly dialed the numbers and waited while the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi Stan, it's Samantha."

"It's been awhile, I've been meaning to contact you. What's the matter?"

"Well I've been thinking about your offer," I paused and took a deep breath.

"Offer?" he asked. I felt shattered. Had he not remembered what he had asked me to do? Did he already forget who I was. Suddenly, I felt like I was begging at his feet.

"The date?"

"Oh yes of course. Are you interested?"

"Very much so, but I'd like to establish some ground rules." Jesus, what was I doing? Had it really come down to prostituting myself? But I sell my time for massages and everyone sacrifices their time to work and earn money. Was there really a difference? 

"Let's hear them."

"No sex, I'm not a prostitute and I'm married with a family." I could hear Stan laughing on the other end. Oh no, what if that's all he wanted? Would I give my body up anyway? To be honest, yes I would. If it was sex, I could get 10, no maybe 20 times more than what he was willing to offer.

"Excuse me, but I think we may have a misunderstanding. When I said date, I meant as a friend. Just someone to have dinner with or to talk with. Besides, at my age, do you really think I'd risk an injury trying to have sex? I'm very realistic Samantha and I'm much too old for that. Sorry to disappoint you." he joked.

"I'm relieved Stan," I really was, "sorry I made the assumption that you were just another pervert."

"When are you available?"

"My schedules clear today so anytime would be fine."

"I'll pick you up in an hour." Our conversation ended there. I felt weird. A little nervous like the first time I had been asked out. How long had it been since I emotionally connected with someone? 

Just as he had said, he arrived an hour later. He was holding a garment cover over his arm. "Try this on, I hope it fits. I spent a while looking for this. I think you'll look perfect in it."

"What is it?"

"Try it on dear." I did as I was told. I headed into one of the changing rooms and pulled out the dress. I could tell by just looking at it that its value was far beyond anything that I have ever worn. The dress fit perfectly. I mean it was tight around my bum, but that's always been a problem ever since I was a kid. The dress was a sea blue, silky, low v-cut with a tightening strap that pulled my breasts together. The dress had horizontal slits around my hips that outlined the lower half of my figure. The dress stopped just above my ankles and my feet were proudly displayed by the matching stilettos.

I did a once over in the mirror and noticed just how much of my breasts were showing. I'm not prude by any means, and I will admit that I had my breasts enlarged. More than anything, it was to help with the inevitable sagging that I experienced. Anyhow, the point is that I didn't mind that people looked at me. I got enough of it from my behind. I applied just a touch of makeup before heading out.

My fellow co-workers gave me surprised stares as I made my way outside. Stan was waiting in his car. He got out as soon as he noticed me standing by the door. He opened it just as I expected him to. We began driving towards the city.

"It's not too tight is it? You seemed to be in phenomenal shape so I thought you'd be able to pull it off."

"It's fine Stan. Thank you. Just a little tight around my waist."

"I hope you're hungry." We pulled into an extremely high class restaurant, ones that I've only seen in the news. Once again, Stan opened my door and proceeded to escort me into the building. Once we came through the doors he very subtly placed his hand around my waist. I was much too slow to react, by the time I noticed we were surrounded by people. The host's eyes lit up when Stan greeted him. He quickly ran to the back and ushered another old man out. The two old men seemed like great friends as they led us into a secluded room away from the crowd. 

We were lead to a back room, very spacious, but dimly lit with only candles placed in various corners for lighting. We were joined by two other gentlemen and their young looking partners. Dinner was fantastic and I got to learn a little bit more about Stan. He was very charming and funny. I didn't want to get too personal, so I didn't bother asking him about his wife. I assumed the poor old man lost the love of his life long ago. As smooth as he was, I noticed him encouraging me to drink any time he had the opportunity. I was oddly comfortable being tipsy around him. I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity so I let myself indulge. Plus, wine was my weak spot. I wasn't an alcoholic, but I just loved my wine.

I was pretty drunk from all the drinks and I could feel Stan pushing for more. While keeping eye contact with one of his friends, his hand moved to my thigh as he caressed me up and down. Feeling his bare hand brush against my leg awakened the sexual attention that I had been craving for so long. I became light headed and my heart trembled thinking of what he would do next, but there were other people here, surely he wouldn't do anything rash.

I was wrong. He moved his hand up higher and began using the tips of his fingers to tease my pussy. The first time he touched me I let out a sigh. He still didn't look at me. He carried on conversation as if nothing were wrong while his hands began prying their ways inside of me. As soon as his first finger was inserted into me I immediately tried stopping him but I couldn't find his arm from being uncoordinated and drunk.

It was too late, he was fingering me and playing with me like a toy as I reclined into my seat holding onto his arm. Finally one of the guests at the table noticed me. "Are you alright Sam?"

Stan turned towards me as if he had just discovered my uneasy state. "What's the matter dear? You look like you're sweating." He moved his fingers in and out faster. I yelped like a helpless dog. "You'll have to excuse us gentlemen." The guests promptly left.

Stan turned into a completely different man. We were alone and suddenly he was filled with life. He got to his knees and shoved his face between my legs. He was driving me crazy as he began sucking and fingering me at the same time. It only took a minute before I started squirting out like a fountain. I couldn't believe how wet I was; how horny I was.

Stan unfastened his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. His cock was fully erect. It was thick, long, and he had surgically inserted pearls inside of his cock. It looked like a monster. I was scared, but still in lust. "Stroke me," he commanded. 

Out of breath, I moved towards the edge of my seat and sat in front of his enormous cock. His cock twitched in a reaction to my light touch. I backed off for a second thinking that somehow this cock was a separate being of itself. It was rough. My comparably small hands began stroking it. I couldn't even grip it with one hand. "Stan, we shouldn't be doing this..." I said as I continued stroking him.

"Shh, there there..." He patted my head pushing it forwards. I followed his gesture naturally and began sucking on his cock. It would be rude to not return the favor. I would make him cum then we would be on our way. I closed my eyes trying to force his cock into my mouth, but the head barely fit. I could hear him rattling a bottle of pills. He grabbed a full glass of wine from the table and swallowed a few of the pills.

I couldn't breathe. I took his cock out of my mouth and used my saliva to stroke him. I focused on the head of his cock trying to make him cum more quickly. Stan stood unimpressed. I felt ashamed that I couldn't make a man cum by simply stroking him. I went back to work using my mouth. 

It was his silence that made me feel beneath him and even more pitiful. He had made me orgasm so quickly, yet more than 10 minutes of sucking his dick only seemed to relax him. He reached behind me and unknotted my dress revealing my breasts.

"Amazing," he said as he began fondling them. The combination of his touch and his thick cock inside my mouth made me wet again. I pushed my hips out and opened my legs. I used one hand to stroke him and the other to play with myself. "You're pretty naughty aren't you?" he asked squeezing my nipples. I was losing my mind and my body reacted to all of his pinches. "Well if you can't bare to wait, maybe I can relieve you again?"

I was hesitant but eventually nodded in acceptance. I was scared of what this man was capable of doing and making me feel ways that my husband hadn't been able to in a long time. I tried to fool myself blaming my lustful state on the alcohol. There was an instance of regret when I thought about John and what he would do if he had found out but it paled in comparison to how much I wanted his fingers inside of me. Just like before, he worked me and played me like an instrument all the way up until I was about to explode when he stopped suddenly. I whimpered at him pleading with my eyes to release me. To allow myself to cum. Stan had other ideas in mind. His erect cock stood at the base of my entrance. I suddenly realized what we were doing was wrong. His gesture implied that he wanted to have sex with me, but it was the one thing that I absolutely could not do.

"I'm sorry Stan, that's one thing I can't do."

"And why is that?" he asked slapping the head of his cock against my dripping pussy.

"I'm married, and I would be betraying my husband, the only man I love."

"Are you sure?" He asked still teasing my pussy.

"Yes, we can't do this." I responded with my breasts exposed and legs wide open. He'd understand. He was a gentleman after all.

"Very well. I have no intention in disrespecting your wishes Ms. Samantha, but would you please allow me to finish what I've started?" Music to my ears. Yes, foreplay was fine. We weren't physically connected and Stan was just a tool to get me off. His fingers and tongue were no different from toys I would've used to get myself off.

He knelt down and began working his magic once more. He controlled me like a car; stepping on the gas and reving my systems up when he wanted and slowing down just as easily. I knew then that he could make me cum as he pleased. I felt him really working me out with the use of his fingers and extraordinary tongue. I grabbed the back of his head forcing him deeper inside of me. He didn't let up the tempo as I began cumming and squirting pools of my creamy liquid. Something was strange though. As I was cumming, Stan didn't stop and drove me crazier. An orgasm within an orgasm was the best way I could describe it. I literally lost my mind. I couldn't keep a single train of thought. I was a jumbled mess and I absolutely loved it. My entire body pulsed and twitched as I eventually lost consciousness. 

When I finally came to, my dress was put back on and I was blanketed with Stan's coat. Stan was dressed as well and sitting down looking at his phone. "I'm so sorry Stan. How long was I out for?"

"Just an hour. Are you alright?"

"Yes, it was amazing. Thank you." I could see the outline of his thick cock laying erect on his leg. I had come three times within an hour yet I was still thinking about sex. This man was dangerous. I should probably keep my distance from him.

"Shall we get going?" He offered his hand and helped me up from my chair. His hand lied on my hips as we made our way through the restaurant and into the car. In a sense, I felt as if I belonged to him. 

In the car, he continued to touch me. "Let me see your breasts," I took my dress off feeling that I owed him at least this much since I wasn't able to make him cum. I was never this sexually active, just having sex once a week would usually be enough but the more he touched me, the more I wanted to cum again. When he began playing with my pussy this time, his aim wasn't to make me cum but instead to make me feel relaxed. 

The sun had set and we made our way back to my parlor. I could see the huge bulge in his pants waiting to be unleashed. I really did feel sorry for him. I couldn't just leave him like that. "Do you want to come in Stan?"

"I'll follow you wherever you go Ms. Smanatha," he said jokingly.

"Why don't you have a seat in one of those rooms. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you in there."

"As you command," I headed into the dressing room and began shedding the dress off. I heard the dressing room door open behind me. He pressed his cock against my ass and cupped my pussy with a hot liquid. He began to fondle my tits while working the liquid deep inside of me. "I'm sorry dear, I just couldn't wait any longer."

"It's not your fault Stan. I should be able to get you off." Then I noticed something strange. Whatever liquid he put inside of me was now burning my insides. "Stan?!" I asked very worried, "What did you put inside me?"

"Just a chili powder based liquid. Don't worry, it's safe for oral use."

"Stan, it really burns!" My vagina was agitated by the liquid and it felt as if it were on fire. I quickly ran to the sink trying to get whatever was inside me out. I could hear Stan laughing.

"Does it burn that much? I thought you would be able to tolerate more than that. Come here if you want the coolant." I quickly ran to him as he emptied the bottle on to his cock and smeared it all around. "It's pretty deep inside of you. The only way we'll stop it is if you allow me to reach deep inside you."

The bastard, had he planned this all along?

"Don't look at me like that Ms. Samantha. Think of this as medical attention."

There wasn't enough time to think twice. "Please put it out."

He smiled and pressed his fat cock head up against my pussy. It felt as if he were pushing my whole body as he tried cramming his overly sized cock inside of me. The head of his cock finally penetrated me instantly giving me relief from the burning. "Hold on Stan. I pressed my palms against his chest forcing him to stop. I think the burning is gone. Thank you." But he didn't pull out.

"This is no good Ms. Samantha. We need to make sure and go all the way in." My eyes widened in horror of knowing what would come next. It felt as if I were being stabbed by his enormous member. Inch by inch it seemed like a minute at a time. I gasped and screamed. Certainly, there was no pleasure initially. All I felt was my hips spreading and it felt as if I were giving birth.

He stopped pushing when his head reached the entrance of my womb. I looked down and noticed barely half of his cock was inside of me. "Please take it out. It hurts." I pleaded with tears running down my face.

"Shhh," he got close to me and whispered into my ear, "once you get used to this, you'll feel pleasure like you've never experienced before." He began ramming his cock in and out of me. I looked down in disbelief, but it was happening. His cock was moving in and out of me getting progressively deeper. With each thrust I felt the wind from my lungs being stolen. I looked down again and noticed that the liquid mixed with some blood was coming from my vagina. I knew it. I wasn't on my period and Stan was literally stretching me apart. It hurt so bad and I was crying, but he kept going. I thought I was going to die from the pain when he began playing with my clitoris. He flicked it and twirled it so precisely that I came instantly. The pressure from my orgasm forced his cock out as I began squirting, yet again, all over him. "I feel like I've just taken your virginity Ms. Samantha, but you're a bad girl aren't you? Getting my cock all dirty. Why don't you clean it up with your mouth?"

In a daze from the orgasm I fell to my knees and began licking the blood and cum off his cock. I tried once again to take his cock into my mouth but I failed at the same place with just the head inside of my mouth. "Let me help you out a little bit." He took a hold of my head and began shoving his rock hard cock into my throat. I began choking immediately and tried pushing him off. He wouldn't let go as black mascara tears ran down my face. He pushed so far down that my gag reflexes kicked in and I vomited all over his cock. He immediately pulled his cock out but still held my head in place. "You'll be alright. Just take a deep breath." I was now sitting in my own blood and vomit.

"Please Stan, no more." I begged.

He shushed me and placed his cock back into my mouth. He forced his cock down my throat forcing me to throw up again. He repeated this process until there was nothing left inside my stomach to come out. "I think we're ready." The old man picked me up and bent me over the table. He placed his cock at the entrance of my pussy. I didn't want to have sex with him anymore but I was too tired to fight back. He straddled my ass and began fucking me from behind. My pussy felt strange. It didn't feel as if it were being ripped apart anymore. Instead I felt pleasure and chills as his plastically inserted pearls made their way inside of me brushing by my clitoris. 

It was a chain reaction of orgasms for me as I literally came with each thrust. After the third thrust, I lost my mind. My eyes had rolled back and my mouth opened wide as drool dripped down the side of my mouth. I would fade in and out, each awakening being a thrust from his cock.




Fail



He pulled my hair back and slapped my ass hard, "Don't fall asleep on me now," but it was too late, I was too far gone to be responsive. He even slapped me across the face a couple of times but my mind was in a void. It wasn't until he shoved his fingers in my asshole that reawakened me. 

I screamed, "Ahhh!! Take it out! It's the wrong hole Stan!" He continued to shove his fingers in and out of my ass. It felt as if I were going to shit.

"Don't worry honey, you'll get use to this pleasure soon enough too. Just look how tightly you clamp down on my cock when I play with your ass."

Oh no, I had suddenly realized how well he was making me feel with his manhood. He continued slamming his cock into me and picked up the tempo until he screamed out in relief. I could feel the gallons of cock juice being deposited inside my womb. This was not good.

I fell to the floor exhausted and out of breath. As I laid there, I could feel the cum slowly leaking out of me.

"I don't suppose you have a ride home?" John had already left for his second job by the time we got back. I usually got a ride from Jaime but the shop was closed and everyone went home. "Oh my, it looks like we ruined your work uniform. I'm terrible sorry dear." The clothes had fallen onto the floor and were covered with vomit and love juices. After cleaning the place up, I put the dress back on and cleaned up my face as best as I could. My body was burning red from the slaps and thrusts and my face was an absolute mess. I tried my best to wash off the makeup but didn't have the necessary solutions to get it off completely. Overall I had looked very worn out.

On the way home, I tried to stop Stan from playing with me. I looked over and sure enough he was still hard. "Stan I'm very sensitive, please stop." He didn't answer and continued to play with me. 

I was relieved when we pulled into my neighborhood. This hellish nightmare would finally come to an end. He parked the car in the driveway. "I had a wonderful evening with you Ms. Samantha. I truly wish I'll get to see you again."

I didn't respond to his comment and was looking to get out the door.

"I don't see your husbands car and it's nearly midnight. Where did your man run off to now?"

"He's still working."

"Ah working? Well, then I suppose we have a little more time to ourselves." He pulled out his erect cock and directed me to it.

His cock was hypnotizing. I felt the weight of it as I held it in my hand. How could such a cock make me cum so many times? I kissed its head and began sucking on the length of his cock. Stan wasted no time familiarizing me with how long his cock was. He crammed his cock down my throat making me choke, gag, and I would have vomited but there was nothing left in my stomach. In a sick sense, I was used to it. I massaged his balls trying to speed up the process all the while enjoying it too. With his cock fully lodged inside my throat, he began cumming like a garden hose. I could feel his cum inside of my belly. I was actually getting full from his cum.

Finally he pulled out leaving a thick trail of cum leaking from the head of his cock. He used it to paint his cum onto my face and into my hair. Now that I think about it, this was the first time I had ever swallowed seamen. I couldn't really tell you the taste since it was shot directly into my stomach. He had a strong scent that seemed to smell up the whole car.

"That's a good girl," he said smearing the cum on my face. "Call me Samantha. I'd like to see you again."

I just nodded and made my way inside. Luckily it was late and John was still at work. The kids should have been sleeping so I could make my way to my room without being noticed. 

****End Chapter: Samantha****



Failed Attempt to go Black



Based on the messages I received after I wrote about my experience with a man who liked water sports, I thought some of you might like my memories of my attempts to bed my first black lover. I had heard and read about the special thrills and joys some white women get from black men. My husband had spoken of their reputation for large cocks. My husband made suggestions about the thrills I would experience with a black lover. All this became a fun part of our marital lovemaking.

I have one close friend who is also a shared wife. She happens to be black. She would talk about her experiences in bed with several black men and some white men. She had decided that black men were really about the same as white men. She told me that her husband was nothing special and she figured that the white women who longed for a black cock were just after what they hoped would be something a little different, without really knowing that the difference wasn't all that much. 

Despite my friend and her comments, I still was curious and planned to taste a black man when the opportunity came along. However, I was not making a special effort to attract a black lover. I was just taking things as they happened, responding to men who showed interest in me if I thought they might make a good bed partner. Few black men paid much attention. If fact, I wondered if, for some reason, I was not attractive to many of them.

Then, my husband started to bring it up more frequently during our lovemaking. He would talk about how he had heard that once a woman experiences a big black cock, she will never be satisfied with white men again. Soon, my imagine was running on high octane, especially as my husband was inside me and would tell me how much further a black cock would go up into my belly or how many more sensations a thicker cock would provide.

My husband would tell me that I seemed so much wetter when he teased me with tales of big black cocks. I knew that his thrusts brought me to orgasm quicker when he told me about some big black cock he was imagining! So I decided that if no black man seemed to want me, I would find a black man I wanted and try to attract him.

My first try was an officer of my bank. I had always liked him and found him attractive. He had a smile that could melt me and I was sure, somehow, that he would be great orally.

I asked my husband what he thought and, together, we worked out a plan to attract this man. I am a bit of an exhibitionist, I guess, and we decided to use the excitement I get from showing off a little. I began to visit my banker more often. I brought a few low cut blouses to work and would change into one in the ladies room just inside the rear entrance to the bank's business office. I would not dare wear something so revealing to my office but I did wear them to do my banking - and bending - in front of his desk.

Several times, I saw his eyes taking in my cleavage. I experienced that delicious surge of emotion as he seemed to devour my breasts with his eyes. I loved it! He cleared his throat on a few occasions and lost track of the conversation a few more times. His mouth dropped open once and he just stared, speechless. I loved it!

But that was it. He looked and enjoyed the show but did not make a move. I was stuck. All sorts of doubts and questions flooded into my head. Should I ask him if he enjoyed the view? That might embarrass him and ruin everything. Should I shed my bra and give him a peek at my nipples? Maybe, I decided, he was uncomfortable with my displays but did not want to make that fact obvious because he might alienate a customer.

My husband loved it when I told him, day by day, what I had worn and what the bank officer's reaction was. He was surprised and disappointed that the man did not take the hints. He visited the bank and observed the man. He told me that he thought I had made a good choice because the man was indeed handsome and charming in the way he worked with customers.

My husband asked whether the banker was frightened and suggested that I tell him that I wanted to get some advice on investments during lunch some day. I tried that and even told the bank officer that lunch would be my treat. He suggested that another officer in another branch was more appropriate to talk about investments and offered to arrange an appointment. I was frustrated! I thought about giving up.

I finally decided that I had invested several weeks of effort in this man, visiting his bank branch and changing into and out of my revealing blouses, waiting till he was available and then positioning myself to show off. Probably, everyone in the bank knew what I was doing by this time!

But I was determined to learn, once and for all, whether he would ever take my bait. I just had not decided what to do.

I came home one Friday night and told my husband that I wanted his help one last time to figure out what to say that would let us know whether there was any hope with the bank officer. That night, we had great marital lovemaking as I recounted my displays of cleavage and the looks on my banker's face when he saw my flesh exposed for his pleasure. My orgasms were long ripples of loud groans!

Later, I lovingly sucked and licked my husband's cock and balls and soon felt my husband's sperm splash into the back of my mouth. I had a hard time keeping some of it from dribbling out. I gulped and swallowed, happy that I had given my husband such a strong orgasm but sad that I was missing much of the taste because his load had shot deep into my throat, past most of my taste buds.

Soon, we were laughing about my failure to attract the banker. My black woman friend thought the whole thing was so funny that she asked me if she could tell her husband. I knew I should say no, but I agreed. To this day, whenever my husband and I get together with them, he manages to ask about how my banking is going! At first, I wanted to change the subject right away. Now, we all laugh.

As I look back on my initial failed attempt to attract a black lover, I realize that the episode was a wonderful one for my husband and me. He was so excited as I told him what I was doing, how much I was showing, what I was saying. He took me hard and fast on several nights. I was so satiated with marital sex that I even thought about turning down a few opportunities to have an evening with a lover!

This was an intense, sharing time for my husband and for me. We both look back on it now with amazement at how much physical and emotional pleasure those weeks gave us. We owe it to a banker who did not make a deposit!

We would never have had these intense nights without my attempt to attract this banker. My failure gave us some of the most explosive moments in our marriage.

This is a lesson that my husband and I learned from my dating. Yes, I have sex with other men. Yes, my husband enjoys sharing me. Yes, that is not conventional behavior for married couples. Yes, it has brought my husband and me closer sexually within our marriage. We are stronger as a couple, more secure with each other, because I have other men. Our experience as I tried to bed this banker is all the proof we need that our choice is the right one.

You see, in many way, my sex with other men is a great gift to me from my husband. I accept that gift in the spirit in which my husband gives it to me - freely, knowingly, lovingly.

We have come to see my sex with other men as the ultimate foreplay for the sex I really treasure most - that loving, devoted sex I have with my husband.

For us, for me, this is a liberating choice. Even when we fail, as with this banker, my husband and I get laughs, love and support from each other. That makes ours a stronger marriage than most couples have.

Oh, by the way, just as my frustration at being unable to bed the banker was about to get the best of me, along into my life came a wonderful, strong black man who took me to the very top of the mountain of physical pleasure. It was delicious! My husband still uses my tales of the experiences from that relationship to arouse me to a fever pitch. Perhaps I will tell you another time how I succeeded in attracting that fantastic, sensitive lover.

That wonderful, strong and still gentle man got me so wound up, so often, that my husband was almost more exhausted than I was after a night with my black lover followed by the rest of the night with my happy husband. That is what cuckolding is all about. It is sensational and reinforces our marriage and commitment to each other.



Failed IVF



I celebrated my 18th birthday over 25 years ago. For me this is a sad reality, but even worse is the fact that it has taken me this long to become an adult. This is not something that I declare proudly; it's just an observation. It is an observation that I can make dispassionately since I can see maturation and growth; so I know what things were before. I have you, my friends here at Literotica, to thank for this progress since before joining this community I may have been over 18, the age at which Lit allows members to join, but I did not know what it was like to be an adult. 

Why would I say that I wasn't an adult? I feel that this is true because there were many things that adults did that I wasn't doing. Chief among these are the fact that I did not make my own decisions about how I wanted to live my life and I did not know what it was like to enjoy my sexuality. I thought that my sexuality was something to be kept under wraps because I was smart and so I was expected to use my brains to get by in life; and sex and brains don't really mix in Jamaica. Of course, this is not true, but it is what I was raised to believe; along with other ideas like I had to get married before having sex at all and that I definitely had to get married before having a child.

Can you imagine my shock then when I woke up one morning to realize that I was a part of the statistic that said that women over 35 who weren't married were going to have a hell of a time changing that? I had some serious thinking to do. Do I grow up on my own, or do I chance it and continue to wait for Prince Charming? Well, not being accustomed to making my own decisions meant that I hadn't mastered that skill and so when faced with making a decision about my future, it should come as a surprise to no one reading this that I made the wrong choice.

Can you blame me though? The Prince and I knew each other well. We'd been friends, and lovers for years so why not give him a little more time and impress him with my coolness by not nagging about getting married? I'll tell you what's wrong: I was the only one doing any waiting; time was not waiting for me.

I'll be honest. I did not want children when I was younger. I thought that I would do something good for humanity to not procreate and add to the depletion of the Earth. I felt that I was morally superior to all those women who wanted, and had, their two point six children. The fact that I, honestly, did not look my age facilitated me in this delusion. The fact that I have had no illnesses beyond the occasional cold led me to believe that I had time and good genes on my side.

Well, guess what, I was wrong about all of those things. I decided one day, about two years ago, to eschew the Nazarite vow that I made as a child (fodder for another essay I suppose) and have a child myself. I have written about broken vows in this forum already so I won't linger on this, but suffice to say that things have not gone as planned.

My IVF failed. In truth, I FAILED. I was the one who had no eggs in my two follicles -- six short of what the doctor wanted, but at least two gave me the chance of twins. It was a nasty shock. I had to face facts for the first time. The doctor, my third opinion, said that my issues were age related and that my real options were donor eggs or adoption; neither of which would result in me having a child of my own.

Now I know the objection that some of you are raising: a baby girl to whom I've given birth would be mine even if the eggs were harvested from another woman's body; the young boy whom I adopted would be mine since I raised him. Believe me, my friends, relatives and Prince Charming have all raised these arguments and chastised me for being so selfish as not to see these truths for myself. The truth is that the children would not be mine. It would be me doing what I have always done: sending someone else's child to school; helping someone else's child with his or her homework; encouraging someone else's child. The difference is that it would be my permanent responsibility to do so rather than the ad hoc way in which I interject into the lives of others at the moment. I have recognized that while I am willing to be kind to the children of others I am not willing to make the great sacrifices that I would be willing to make for my own children.

There is bound to be someone who will get angry at my attitude about this and believe that I do not deserve to have a child if this is how I really regard them; my former Dom told me as much. I have seen my friends become livid at me, but the truth is that I do not believe that feeling this way and not talking about it helps anyone, because if I do that then the people around me will never understand why it is that I just haven't taken their advice; if I don't pay them the courtesy of telling them how I feel... in any event, I suppose I thought that that was what one did with one's friends and relatives. 

This piece has been hard for me to write for many reasons. I know that it is a "journal" of my thoughts about my IVF. When I mentioned my upcoming IVF last year to some of my friends in The Playground one of them suggested that I blog about it and I thought at the time that that would have been a good idea. I was so excited about the prospect of sharing my battle (and I was arrogant enough to believe that it would ultimately my tale of triumph) with infertility with the world. I recognized then that I would need courage to go through this, but the truth is that I need much more courage now as I contemplate what will happen to me emotionally if my next attempt at IVF fails as well.

So, what have I learned in the past year from this experience that I will take into the next phase of this challenge? I have learned never to allow others to make my decisions for me since I am the person who will live with the consequences of these decisions. It is the true message that I want to pass on in this piece. It is also for this reason that I will NOT be accepting donor eggs or adopting a child. I have decided that if my IVF fails again I will likely do the tummy tuck that I've wanted to do for years and then, when the swelling goes down and the pain subsides, go on a holiday to end all others since "responsible" living would have just made way for having fun on the beach in my new string bikini. 



Failed Nurse



Note: From the files of Cleo: #305-2014

*****

I'm a 29 year-old woman, married for eight years. After years of living with my guilt I've now been in counseling for almost a year, and I hope the healing process is working. I know readers will condemn me for what I am about to write here, but that's okay. Maybe I need that as part of the healing process. I won't try to sugar-coat this or spare myself in any way for my actions. They are despicable and reprehensible in every respect. I am not a great writer so I am having help in writing this. What hurts the most is my having to live every detail all over again. Here goes.

I've always wanted to be a nurse. In high school I worked as a "candy-striper" at a local hospital, and then went to school to become a nurse. It was there after my second year that I met my husband whom I'll call Rick. Rick is a doctor. He mostly travels all over the world for weeks at a time, holding seminars and giving instruction on a new device he's perfected. He is well-known in most of the hospitals so I won't name the city we live - or the device - for that might identify him. Like his dad who worked in construction before a debilitating illness, he makes a lot of money and we live comfortably.

Four years ago my father, a heavy drinker at the time, suffered a head injury that causes him to lapse into a coma-like condition for days at a time, with no warning. Otherwise, he is normal and relatively healthy. He was a widower and his life-style of drinking and a constant bevy of young women hanging around didn't set well with either Rick or me. The illness was instrumental in him selling his business and retiring, which resulted in him being greatly depressed and made us fearful for his well-being. 

At first, he paid an attendant to take care of him while he was suffering from an attack, but he is a difficult patient - read that as "over-sexed" - and after firing a dozen young nurses, it was difficult to find replacements. Rick suggested that his dad, whom I'll call Cal, live with us and that I quit my job at the hospital and take care of him full-time. We have a large house and while I argued at first, over-all, it seemed the best solution. 

Cal is a big, rough man with minimal education who is what most folks would call a "self-made" man. He didn't get there by being timid and I've heard stories of his ruthless business dealings for years. My husband Rick is about five-eleven, one hundred eighty pounds. Cal is six-foot-four, two-fifty, so all of us knew taking care of him wouldn't be easy. The three of us sit down and discussed it, Cal promising to be a "lamb" and do exactly what I told him. 

Rick took him aside and emphasized that any undue "touching" would be grounds for the agreement to terminate. I finally agreed to try the arrangement for a few months with the option I could stop at any time I wanted to. Cal kept his word and things seemed to be working out. 

To those who don't know, coma is a state of unconsciousness where the person is not responsive. The doctors said it was a result of brain trauma due to the injury he suffered, exasperated by excessive alcohol abuse and low sugar. I've discovered that while comas can be permanent, they often last only a few weeks. We had high hopes that Cal's condition would eventually turn around. The first few weeks were encouraging. 

The first time Cal had an episode, it was total disaster. I found him, unresponsive, sitting in a chair in his room. He had soiled himself. While not new to such things because of my nursing experience, I still had to hire off-duty medics to assist me getting him into bed and cleaning him up, because he was just too heavy to move. Since then I've come to recognize his approaching episodes and take steps to be proactive. 

When I saw he was becoming depressed, a precursor to an attack, I would strictly control his diet, get him to thoroughly shower, and guide him to bed. Since his comas only lasted for one or two days, that helped with having to move him later, plus solved the incontinence problem. To be honest, he was a much bigger problem when awake then in a coma. At least I didn't have to bathe him then. As for his promise, Cal was the perfect gentleman.

Now, for my problem. I am a highly sexual person and Rick isn't. Our sex-life was not all that great. His being away so much didn't improve the situation either. Rick knew this and he bought me a "toy" to help out while he was gone, but it wasn't the same. Then Cal's episodes increased in length, the comas lasting longer, three to five days. I administered his drugs and hooked up his IV each time and bathed him. The first time I decided to bathe him was really no big deal. After all, I was a nurse. I discretely covered his genitals with a small towel, got a warm soapy pan of water and a wash cloth. I washed his craggy face, his chest and arm-pits, feet and legs, and then started washing under the towel, jerking my hand back as though burned.

What I had touched shocked me! Suddenly, my heart was pounding a mile a minute, my hands shaking as I stared down at the towel. Nobody's soft penis could possibly be that large. It'd felt like an arm! Okay, I hadn't had sex in a week and the last time I did was totally unsatisfactory, but that doesn't excuse what happened next. I watched my trembling hand snaking out toward the towel as though it were a stranger's, grasping it and slowly pulling it away. I'd bathed a lot of men and women as a nurse, but I'd never seen something like that! 

After I started my therapy, Cleo would tell me many women have "big cock" fascinations, but that had never been me. I'd had four sex partners before marrying Rick and as far as I knew, their penises could've been cut from the same cookie-cutter. In fact, I'd only glimpsed a couple cocks before Rick, all about the same. Most of the young guy only wanted to hop on, pop a nut, and go get a burger and a beer. I also had only given oral sex once before Rick, and nearly gagging when the guy flooded my mouth. I thought I'd be sick. Even my vibrator was average sized. This thing of Cal's though, was gigantic! Like a huge soft snake lying across Cal's thigh, thick blue veins crisscrossing it. I realized my mouth was dry as I just stared at it for a long time, before I saw my rebellious hand reach out and touch it. 

It felt like a huge piece of velvet, warm and soft. It was the first uncircumcised cock I'd ever seen too. Must be the age difference, most guys probably have it done now. Rick did. Cotton filling my mouth I lifted its heft, watched it bend in the middle, draping over my small hand. I slowly moved my hand down, pulling the foreskin back to reveal a large spongy helmet, covering it again, and then exposing it again. My heart was going a mile a minute, pounding like a jack-hammer inside my chest. Then, I felt the cock surge a little in my hand. 

Horrified, I looked at Cal's face. His eyes were closed and he hadn't moved. It was plain to see he was still inside his coma, but unaccountably, his cock was filling with blood! I felt it stiffening in my hand! Staring at his face, I worked my hand slowly up and down the horse-sized cock as it grew more ridged. I felt as if my heart would explode from my chest! Convinced he was out of it, I looked back at his cock and saw it was nearly twice as large as it had been while soft. I cupped his large hairy nuts and kept stroking it, slowly pulling the foreskin back and forth over the huge crown. I did this for about twenty minutes until it began noticeably throbbing. My fingers found my wet vagina and I almost came just touching the lips. He suddenly shot a stream of semen two feet in the air, some of it landing in my hair.

That's when I had a hard, shuddering climax, watching as I pumped load after load of thick cum out of that large pee-hole, feeling it slide over my knuckles, gob-after-gob. It seemed it would never stop. I came almost as long as Cal did, gasping and moaning with delight. Once it was over, I was instantly ashamed, eaten-up with guilt for what I'd just done. I was a nurse for god's sake! I continued to wallow in my own shame as I cleaned the cum off Cal's belly and changed his sheets. Then I went to take a shower and wash Cal's cum out of my hair. 

I hesitated only a moment, but finally took my battery-powered vibrator into the shower with me. After soaping-up good, I placed it between my legs and thought about the huge appendage I'd just held as I had another mind-blowing climax. Totally exhausted, I finished my shower and took a long nap. 

The next day, the first thing I thought about was Cal's cock. As I did my chores, it just kept floating before my eyes like a bad mirage, causing me to drop stuff, knock other things over. I was a wreck as the time for Cal's daily bath rolled around, making up my mind that he could probably wait for one more day. My mind a blank, I gathered up the pan of warm water and a wash cloth, suddenly standing outside Cal's bedroom door. With resolve, I opened the door and went in. Cal hadn't moved from yesterday when I'd turned him over before I departed so he wouldn't get bed-sores. I flipped him onto his back and his big cock flopped with him. I wasn't going to do this, I pledged. I'd been weak, a fucking pervert. I'd do what I came for, and leave. No touching. The problem was, my difficulty in breathing had returned when I saw that magnificent dick! I wanted to touch it so badly. 

Keeping my eyes adverted I washed his face, chest, feet and legs. I had finally come to a decision point. Did I act like an adult and wash his genitals, or just leave? I slowly raised my eye level and saw that his cock seemed more inflated today then it appeared the previous day, causing my mouth to grow dry again. You - are - a - nurse, I reminded myself as I reached out and grasped it firmly in my hand. Don't - do - this! I slowly stroked it, feeling it inflate even more and then grow solid under my fingers. I couldn't stop, feeling it throb, moving in my hand - soft but hard, warm and comfortable, something I had to have. 

I leaned down and did something I thought I hated; I licked the tip of it, feeling it jerk a little. I did it again, then threw inhibitions to the wind and just started licking it like an ice cream cone all over. The small hole leaked a little and I lapped that up, tasting like ambrosia on my tongue. I took the large spongy crown inside my mouth, savoring it, in heaven. I made love to it with my mouth, taking my time, wanting it to last. I forced it deep into my mouth, gagging, and was finally able to get it past my throat's opening. I would never be able to swallow the entire thing, but I wanted to. 

I ran my tongue down it to the base, then lower, nibbling his balls, feeling them draw up, lifting them to lick lower. I was enraptured, over the edge. I didn't think of the consequence of my actions, the ensuing guilt I'd feel later. This wonderful thing I had inside my mouth was all that mattered at the moment. I forced my mouth down on it and held it there, tying not to suffocate as I breathed through my nose. When he came it took me by surprise. I gagged, swallowing to keep from strangling, and then I was trying to get it all - every drop. It was like ambrosia to me. 0

When the steady stream ceased I let my heart slow as I gently licked and sucked all the seepage from the tiny hole, watching his stiffness deflating. I was still so excited I was noticeably trembling head to foot. I looked up at Cal and he was still out. Then I cleaned him up with the washcloth and went into the shower with my vibrator again, guilt eating away at me. The next morning I heard Cal whistling as he sat on the patio drinking coffee. He was back.

Cal had no memory of what I'd done of course, but I went out of my way to do things for him, treating him with more kindness out of guilt, I suppose. Rick came home for a while and I tried staying occupied so not to think about what I'd done, but also because Cal's big cock entered my mind every time I was around him. Knowing Cal's past, I suppose he'd have ravaged me with or without my permission if he'd known. In my mind, both of us knowing about it would make this act even more incestuous and depraved than it already was. I made up my mind I'd never do it again, no matter what. My resolve lasted until about a month later when Cal had another episode while Rick was out of town again. 

Yeah, I went through all the same depreciating and self-chastising I'd done before, but it had little effect. In the end, I was sucking his cock like I was starving for it. In a way, I guess I had been. I knew this time I was going to go as far as I could, and promised after that I'd never do it again. Licking up its length for a final time I reluctantly slid my lips off the crown, and squatted over him. As I lifted up directly over his tower of meat I closed my eyes, holding the head of his cock against the opening of my vagina. I had never been so wet! I slid around on it for a minute, knowing it would hurt but determined to go through with it now that I'd made up my mind. I slowly lowed myself, feeling the stretching and burning of friction as I forced the large rubbery head inside me. After a long time of time trying, I finally felt it pop inside. 

I just held it there for a moment, but my legs were growing weak and I was trembling so badly I could barely hold myself upright. More quickly than I wanted to because my legs were giving out, I sank down on it, crying out in pain - then in wonderment. I'd done it! I was sitting on Cal's stomach, his huge cock inside me. The feeling was such I almost cried, as I sat and savored the sensation of the large helmet pressing against my cervix, stretching my vagina walls as nothing ever had before. I was completely in charge of how long I could last and I loved that feeling.

At last I started riding it like a big horse, lifting off to come crashing back down, moaning and crying out with both pain and immeasurable joy as I took my pleasure with total disregard for anyone else's. At the very last, I was lifting up and then free-falling back down mindlessly, when I felt his eruption deep inside me. Then I came . . . and came and came. I'd never had a climax such as this, an endless eruption that shook me to my core. Afterward, I was so depleted I couldn't move for five minutes, just sitting there with hair hanging down in my eyes, trying to get my runaway heart to slow down. 

I finally lifted myself off his half-hard cock and fell beside him on the bed, staring in awe at the huge soft creature lying against Cal's leg, wondering how I could've possibly gotten all that inside me. Impulsively, I leaned over and sucked the leaking fluid from its tip, then cleaned our combined fluids as I swallowed the entire length. I was insatiable. I almost smiled as I thought, Cal, if you only knew what I had just done for you. I cleaned him up, took a shower and slept for several hours. 

I'd like to say I realized how awful I was acting, and reformed, but no, that was not to be my last time. My need only grew worse the more I did it, and I just couldn't seem to leave it alone. I lived with my guilt for nearly a year, eventually trying out everything sexually a woman can do with a man. Writing this, even now, has proven to be an ordeal for me. Remembering my deceit, lack of morality, and abhorrent behavior, has created depression again. I'll stop for now and maybe write more about it later if I can get Cleo to assist me. Thanks for being my sounding board. Please try not to be too cruel in your assessment of my activities. I already hate myself enough. What more can I do?



Failed Summoning



No moon, no stars, just dark clouds and headlights. She continued driving in the near pitch black staying focused on the lines of the road and trying not to get blinded when another car passed her going the other way. She was headed home after attending a party with her friends, it had been a good night but she wasn't happy that she had to make the drive home tonight. She had hoped to spend the night with the cute guy she flirted with the whole evening but instead he had to go bail his sister out of jail and she was stuck driving for an hour to get back home.

She shifted in her seat as she remembered the events of the evening. There was a lot of flirting and teasing and innuendos being thrown between them and that was before they started dancing. On the dance floor things just got better; or worse considering he had to bail. They had grinded and groped each other on the dance floor as they felt each others 'intentions' out. It had let both of them breathing heavily and ready for some alone time. Then his phone had to ring. 

She focused her attention back on the road and shifted in her seat again. Fresh panties would be needed tomorrow, she mentally noted. Thinking about cell phones reminded her to check hers, they had exchanged numbers before leaving the club and she had heard hers go off earlier in the drive. She slowed the car as she approached a stop sign and checked her phone. It was a hot text from her dance partner, wanting to know when they could get together and finish what they started. She wrote a steamy text back letting him know she would be back in town a couple of weeks later. She hit the send button and the phone let her know it would be sent when signal returned. She noted the bars and acknowledged that she had none.

She stepped on the gas again and continued the drive. The last half hour of the drive was always the worst, there was almost nothing out here but forest. She drove for about five minutes listening to the radio and shifting in her seat trying to get some release but it wasn't working very well. She surveyed the road ahead of her and didn't see any headlights coming at all, so she decided to take a more hands on approach to getting some release. 

She used one hand to unbutton her jeans and slid the same hand into her jeans and panties. As her fingers touched the heated skin between her legs she let out a sign and bit her lip. She started working her fingers faster, knowing it wouldn't take long in her current state combined with the thrill of being caught doing this while driving. It didn't take her long before she was moaning and grinding her hips in the drivers seat as the radio hummed out a sexy tune. She could feel the pleasure growing and welcomed the release that would follow. 

She was doing a good job of focusing on the road and getting things done downstairs when the radio decided to cut out leaving her moans as the only sound in the car as it drove. Sighing she removed her hand from her pants and went to adjust the radio. She stopped before touching the buttons as she realized her fingers were quite slippery. Not having any other option she stuck the fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean, the action sending a small wave of pleasure through her body. Finished cleaning, she returned to trying to get the radio to come back on. She cycled through all of her preset stations, but got only silence on all of them. Sighing again, she clicked the button to turn on the cd, but still only got silence. 

Silently cursing her luck she decided to finish the drive in silence and return to the task at hand. She went to slip her hand back in her pants but stopped as she noticed a thick bank of fog in front of her. Silently cursing again, she put both hands on the wheel and turned off her high beams. She entered the fog at normal speed but was quickly forced to reduce her speed to a crawl. She concentrated on keeping the car between the fading lines of the road, slowing even further. She glanced at her speed and saw that she was under ten miles an hour, this would delay her arrival at home significantly. Oh well, better safe than sorry she thought and continued making her way slowly through the fog.

Her mind was playing with her as she traveled through the fog, shadows and light coming through the fog making it look like there were faces or people outside her car. She had read about this phenomena before and shook her head to clear the images away. It only partially worked. A few minutes into the fog and she was forced to slam on her brakes as a large shadow swooped in front of her car. She only caught a glimpse of it, it looked like large bird flying across the road. She forced herself to breathe normally as she tried to calm herself down. A few breaths later she removed her foot from the brake to resume her journey and the car promptly died. Forcing herself to calm down even further, she put the car into park and turned the key to start the engine again.

The engine hummed back to life, but died again when she shifted into drive. Cursing aloud this time, she unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to go out and check the engine. She wasn't stupid when it came to cars, she had watched her father work on cars for most of her youth and knew the basics about getting a car to run again. She grabbed her cell phone to use as a makeshift flashlight and grabbed the handle on her door. She looked out into the fog to make sure she wasn't going to get hit and froze. Outside her door on the other side of the road there was a shadow.

It looked like a man, but it was at least ten feet tall. And it had glowing red eyes. A screech from in front of the car distracted her and she turned to see that bird shadow fly in front of the car again. She was starting to breath heavily now and she tried to mentally force herself to calm down. It's just the fog playing tricks on your mind, she told herself. She forced a few deep breaths and turned to look across the road again. The shadow was gone, but the fog was so thick now that she couldn't even see the road. 

In fog this thick she didn't think she would be able to see anything under the hood to get the car working again, so instead she checked her cell phone again. Still no bars, in fact, the text she wrote earlier still hadn't sent. With no other option, she turned on her hazard lights, hoping to be visible enough that someone else on the road wouldn't run into her. She looked out the windshield and nearly screamed, there were 5 of the same shadows that she had seen across the road standing in front of her car. She scrambled for the lock on her door and heard the familiar click as the doors locked all around her. 

She watched the shadows closely, trying not to meet the gaze of those red eyes. They didn't move, they didn't blink, they didn't do anything. The fog cleared a little bit and the shadows came into clearer focus. The tall body that looked like a mans body became the trunk of trees and the eyes stopped glowing red and were attached to owls in the branches of the trees. She started laughing at herself, what did she think they were? She hoped the fog would lift soon, it was really starting to mess with her. Looking around the car she realized that when she hit the brakes to stop, she must have turned the wheel as well as the car was turned towards almost sideways and facing the forest now. 

With nothing else to do, she decided to try and start the car again. The car hummed to life and the noise startled the owls out of their trees and she watched as they flew into the fog. Another animalistic screech turned her attention and she was the large winged shadow flying into view again, but higher this time. She heard another animal screech and the shadow was gone, but an instant later her windshield was splashed with blood and something hit the hood of her car. She screamed as she saw the head of an owl roll off her hood. 

She tried to push herself back into her seat farther as she tried to calm down, but only succeeded in pulling her still unbuttoned pants around her hips. She tried again to force herself calm, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on getting something productive done. She focused on getting her pants back on and fastened. WIth the way things were going, it wouldn't surprise her if she was forced to run for her life from some imaginary demon tonight and if it came to that she didn't want to trip on her pants as they fell around her ankles. 

With her pants securely fastened again, she focused on her surroundings again. The trees were still in front of her, but were becoming more shadowy as the fog thickened again. No more owls were visible, which was a good thing considering her blood spattered windshield. The car engine was running and the heater was going. And there didn't appear to be any more shadows around the car for the moment. 

Well everything seems to be in order, nothing weird currently going on, she thought to herself. Then she realized that the car was running. She quickly buckled her seatbelt again and shifted the car into drive again, where it promptly died, like it had before. She thumped her head against the steering wheel and sighed. She felt like she was stuck in the middle of a nightmare, and couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She shifted the car back to park and started the engine again. She figured if she couldn't use the car to go anywhere, she might as well use it to keep warm. 

It wasn't particularly cold, but it wasn't warm either. She sat like that for a while, letting the heater in the car run while she watched the swirling patterns in the fog. It almost became a game to her, trying to make out shapes in the swirling mist. A breeze started to blow and the game became even more interesting. In the back of her mind, she knew that a breeze should start to lift the fog, but to her it just seemed to get pushed thicker by the wind. As the wind picked up force, the woman started to become more concerned. The fog was dancing all around her car now, and the wind was howling, even tipping her car with some gusts.

She forced herself to try and calm down again, even though she was really starting to get freaked out. She started hearing voices in the wind, and tried to shake herself back to reality. There wasn't anyone around for miles, how could there be voices in the wind. The wind and the voices continued despite her efforts not to hear either. She decided to try and get the radio to work again, maybe that would help calm her down. She clicked the button on the stereo to listen to the radio again, and to her surprise, voices started playing through the speakers. She felt relieved and settled down to listen to the radio dj, but instead of a radio jockey playing through the speakers, it was the same voices in the wind.

She could understand them now, as they came through the speakers. They were telling her to run, that she was in danger. Even though they were playing through her speakers, they sounded distant almost echoey. The wind picked up even more, shifting her car regularly now, and the voices became more frantic, trying to warn her that 'it' was coming. She laughed to herself, recognizing the signs of a nervous breakdown. There was no way this could be happening. She was either dreaming or hallucinating. She tried to focus on the events of the night, blocking out the increasing sound of the wind and the voices from the stereo. She tried to remember whether she had left her drink unattended long enough for someone to spike it with something. 

The sounds were making it difficult, but she couldn't remember leaving her drink unattended. She didn't remember drinking any spirits either, knowing she had to drive home tonight. This didn't make any sense to her, she tried to turn the stereo off, but the voices wouldn't stop coming through the speakers. They had found a way to make themselves heard and wouldn't stop now. Once voice started to make itself heard above all of the others, it yelled at her to run, that there wasn't any more time to sit and wait. It told her she wasn't crazy and her life depending on her ability to focus. It started to scream at her louder, it was the only thing she could hear. 

"RUN!!" It yelled. The woman covered her ears and screamed as loud as she could. When she stopped screaming, the voices were gone and the wind was quiet. She looked into the fog, but saw nothing. The voice whispered once more, quietly, like it was afraid it would be overheard. it said simply "it's here." And then she was alone.

No sound, no wind, just the fog.

She slouched in her seat, involuntarily trying to make herself invisible. The feeling that she was being watched was like a blanket that covered her now, but she couldn't see anything in the fog. She tried not to move, and to keep her breathing as quiet as possible. Any thoughts of this not being real had flown from her head, she was now in fight or flight mode and flight was winning. Repressed instincts took over and the only thing that moved on the woman was her eyes, scanning the fog for some glimpse of the danger that watched her. Time seemed to stop for several moments as the only thing moving was the hum of the engine. The woman wanted to shut the engine off to make the car less of a target for whatever was out there, but she didn't dare move and she thought the loss of the engine sound could give her away, so instead she sat in the driver seat as still as possible. 

A crackling sound came from above the car and a large branch fell to the ground on the passenger side of the car. The sound scared her and she almost screamed, but she remembered the quiet voice in her ear and remained as silent as possible. A shadow passed in front of the car, larger than the trees and without wings. She held her breath as the shadow faded from view again. She silently cursed herself for not leaving the car when the voices told her to, for not running when she had the chance, but there was still part of her that thought this couldn't be happening. 

She quieted that part of her, not caring if this was real or a dream. She steeled her determination, she was going to make it through this one way or another. She heard a sound from outside the car, it sounded like something large breathing. Something large breathing very close to the car. She remained still and waited. 

The car shifted, like something had just nudged it. She waited and the nudge came again. Her breath was coming in short gasps now, as she waited for something bad to happen. She didn't wait long, the back end of the car was lifted off the ground, tipping her forward toward the steering wheel. The seat belt stopped her from hitting anything as the car was raised almost vertical. She stopped herself from screaming and hung suspended by the seat belt. A few seconds later, the car was dropped back onto it's tires and she was jostled around inside the car. When everything was settled again, she reached down and unbuckled the seat belt, preparing for the inevitable run for her life. Freed from the life saving device, she glanced in the rear view mirror.

She shouldn't have. Two sets of bright green eyes stared back at her in the mirror behind her car. A clawed hand descended in front of the eyes and the back half of her car was smashed, shattering the back window and spraying glass inside the car. She didn't wait any longer, she opened the driver door and sprinted ahead of the car and into the forest. The wind started again and she could hear the voices again, telling her to run. 

This time she listened and ran. She didn't stop running and the voices and the wind seemed to help her. A terrifying run through the forest in dense fog with a creature that can destroy cars chasing you is not how she pictured the end of her night, but right now she just wanted to make it through the night. The voices helped guide her, stopping her from running into any trees. 

She could hear the creature behind her, knocking over trees as it chased her. She didn't dare look back, she could only hope that destroying that many trees would slow the creature enough that she could get away. At one point during the run the voices told her to duck, having not been wrong yet, she listened to them dove for the ground, rolling and coming up in a crouch just in time to see a winged shadow swoop where she had been. She heard it screech in frustration but the voices were telling her to run again. She was beginning to slow but could still hear the trees falling behind her, although more distant. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as her body wasn't used to this kind of exertion. Ahead of her she saw a light in the fog and sprinted for it. 

She broke free of the fog and found herself in a clearing with a log cottage. The voices and the wind had stopped, but she didn't. She ran for the door to the home and hoped it was unlocked. She reached for the handle and prayed to whoever was listening. It turned and she was inside. She closed the door locked it and put her back to the door. She slid to the floor as she tried to catch her breath.

Her head was in her hands and it was several minutes before she realized she was crying. She wiped her face and pulled the hair out of her eyes and looked around. The cottage wasn't big, it looked like it had a den, kitchen and one other room which she assumed was a bedroom. The kitchen had a wood stove, and an ice box (not a refrigerator), and the den had a fireplace and some wooden chairs. Several stuffed animals decorated the cabin and the woman assumed the owner must be a hunter. 

There were several birds, some beaver, and a bear on display in the den. She got up from the ground and stepped over to the window. She peeked outside, only putting her face in front of the window. Outside, the fog didn't enter the clearing for the cottage and she identified the light she had seen earlier as a kerosene lamp hanging from the roof. She looked into the fog and could see the shadow of the creature that had been chasing her. She could see it's shadow and it's eyes, all four of them, looking right at her. 

She ducked back away from the window and braced herself for the cottage to be torn down around her, but it never happened. She peeked out the window again and looked at the creature in the fog, but it never came any closer.

Great, she thought, trapped here with no escape. She decided to look around the cottage to see if there was someway to call for help, or something to defend herself with. The kitchen had some decent knives for preparing food and she took one, keeping it in her left hand as she used the right one to search the kitchen. There was a lot of dried meat and it appeared that fresh water came into the house from somewhere. She left the kitchen and headed for the bedroom, but found the door locked. 

Exhausted from the run she went back to the den. She found some firewood and some matches next to the fireplace and decided to make a fire. It didn't take long and soon the cabin was fairly warm. As a bonus, she found a fire poker and added that to her knife as available weapons. She found a blanket on one of the chairs and laid it in front of the fireplace. She made one last sweep of the house, looking for a cell phone or a phone, or even a smoke signal blanket, but found nothing. She pulled her own cell phone out of her pocket, remembering it, but alas, it still had no bars.

She sighed and resigned herself to a long sleepless night, staying vigilant in case the creatures in the fog decided to rush the cabin. She sat in one of the wooden chairs by the fireplace and set her cell phone and the fire poker in her lap and watched the fire as she listened for movement outside. Part of her knew that she should be watching out the windows for movement, but she never wanted to see those green eyes again. So instead she listened.

About an hour had passed before anything interesting happened. Several times she caught herself nodding off and had to check the cottage again to try and wake herself up. She was sitting in the chair with her weapons in her lap when the man walked in the door. When the man touched her on the shoulder she realized that she had dozed off again, startled she swung the fire poker at him. He caught it in his left hand, the same one he used to wake her. Realizing what she had almost done she dropped the fire poker and apologized. She looked at him and immediately recognized him as the man from the party earlier. Her head spun, she had so many questions and couldn't figure out where to start. She decided to start with the fog and the creature.




Failed Summoning



Her words tumbled out of her mouth and the man just became more confused, he hadn't seen any fog or monsters or shadows. He told her so and said to see for herself. She cautiously walked to the window and peeked outside. She was still in the clearing, but the fog was gone, there was just forest and flowers, and some deer. Even better, she saw the sun which meant she had survived the night. She squealed in delight and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. So caught in the moment she didn't even care about the rest of her questions. 

As they kissed, his hands worked their way around her body, finding more interesting places as their kissing increased in tempo. Soon his hands were caressing her breast and cupping her tush with his fingers in between her legs. She broke their kiss and pulled his shirt above his head, running his fingers over his chest while his hands worked at the buttons on her shirt. With her shirt open and her breasts freed from her bra, his lips soon locked around her hardening nipple. She moaned in approval as her hands worked at his belt and jeans. He stepped back from her and kicked his shoes off and stepped out of his pants before reattaching his mouth to her breast. While her nipples got sucked and licked, she worked his manhood with her hands, bringing him to full attention.

Wanting more, he moved his hands to her pants, loosening the button and running his hand straight to her wetness. She moaned her approval and used one hand to free herself from her pants as well. with both of them naked, and reaching a pitch, she laid on her back on the blanket by the fireplace, spreading her legs in an unmistakable invitation. Not needing to be told twice, the man joined her on the blanket and began caressing her wetness with his manhood. A few moments later, he sank himself into her and they both sghed in pleasure. They worked their hips together as they kissed. Her hands exploring his body and his supporting his weight. The sounds of sex filled the cabin and their moans echoed off the wooden walls.

He adjusted position, no longer holding himself over her, he was now sitting on his knees slamming into her hard and fast, his thumb working wonders on her body where they joined together. She arched her back and closed her eyes building towards her own release as he worked her with his body. Her moans grew in fever and she could feel him grow inside her, she opened her eyes to watch as he finished and screamed in terror.

He had four green eyes, and his clawed hand slammed into her body, causing her blood to splatter over the den. She watched as the light faded, and the twisted image of man and creature licked her blood from his hand as he continued to work her body with his. A soft voice whispered in her ear from nowhere, "I told you to run."

She awoke with a scream. She was laying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, the fire poker laying in arms reach and fire was close to dying. Her shirt was unbuttoned and one breast was freed from her bra, clutched by her left hand. Her other hand had two fingers knuckle deep between her legs, with her pants unbuttoned. Scared and shaking she redressed herself slowly and went to the kitchen to wash her hands. Too scared to do anything else at the moment, she held herself over the sink in the kitchen and looked out the window. In the fog, she could still see the four glowing green eyes watching her, and a screech from overhead told her the winged shadow was still out there as well. She checked her phone and noticed that only an hour had passed.  

She sighed and went to get the fire going again. The cottage no longer felt safe to her, not that it ever really felt safe to begin with. She decided to check the house again, just to make sure she was alone. Kitchen was secure, no back door, no way to open the window. Den was secure, front door was locked, and again no way to open the windows. She checked to make sure the bedroom door was still locked. Except it opened without a problem. She gripped the fire poker even tighter and pushed the bedroom door open. 

On the other side of the door was not a bedroom, but some kind of demented ritual room. Strange symbols were drawn on the wooden floor inside a circle of what looked like salt. Books lined the wall that separated this room from the kitchen. The far wall had various bones and animal parts, and two human skulls sitting on crude wooden shelving. The wall opposite the books had various pages torn from books with pictures of bizarre creatures, or demons she wasn't sure. She carefully walked across the room, careful not to step on any of the symbols or disturb the circle. She examined the pages and quickly found that she could not read a word of them. So much for them being helpful. She also found a page with an illustration of a clawed demon with four eyes, it was in black and white but she recognized them easily. Scanning the pages she found another illustration showing a winged creature, she had seen similar pictures in various religious art, but couldn't give a name to the creature. 

She leaned forward as she recognized another creature, this one resembling a beautiful naked woman, but with a few differences. For instance the bat wings on her back, or the tail curving from just above her naked ass, or the horns coming from the temples of her head, or the hooved feet. But the most startling difference to her was the eyes, completely black. Whoever the artist was, he was good, it almost looked like she was looking out from the paper. This page had several red circles around text at the bottom. She couldn't decipher the strange language though.

A soft chanting behind her shook her from her investigation. She turned to find a man dressed in animal furs behind her. His eyes were focused on a book he was holding in one hand, and his other hand was outstretched towards her palm up and fingers spread. Afraid for her life, she gripped the fire poker with both hands and ran at him prepared to beat him to death. As she passed into the circle of salt, his outstretched hand closed into a fist and the air in front of her seemed to shimmer. She stopped as quickly as she could but still ended up bumping into a near invisible barrier just inside the salt circle. She swung the fire poker at the man from where she was, but the metal object just ricocheted off of thin air. The man kept chanting from the book, not paying her any attention. 

A moment later, the man finished chanting and pointed a finger at her. She tried to dodge the accusing digit, but her invisible prison didn't leave much dodging room. With a snap, the man closed the book in his other hand and stared straight at her. Heat suddenly filled the area she was standing in. She looked down to see her clothes burning away from the area the man had pointed at. The fire wasn't burning her, but her instincts kicked in anyway and she hastened to removed the burning clothes, which turned out to be all of her clothes. 

Standing naked in the middle of the room with this man staring at her, she suddenly felt even more vulnerable than she had when she was running from the creature in the forest. She was terrified, her grasp on reality was fading fast. Her mind spun rapidly looking for something to attach to to remain sane, it chose defiance. She desperately wanted to cover herself, but stood defiantly, outwardly showing no fear to her captor. The man looked her over as she stood with her hands on her hips and nodded approvingly. She felt sick to her stomach, but showed nothing on her face. 

She was still trying to come to terms with what could only be explained as magic. Acceptance wasn't high on her list of things to do, but survival was, so she concentrated on that. She watched the man as he wandered around the room, looking for a weakness she could exploit, something like arrogance or over-confidence. She found nothing though, he looked calm and focused as he gathered a box from the shelves and picked another book from his bookshelf. She expected him to start gloating, or explaining why he was doing this. Instead he said nothing and her hope of escape shrunk as she realized she wasn't dealing with a cartoon villain. He turned his back to her as he opened the book, looking for a specific page.

She took the opportunity to search the room again, looking for an escape. She noticed a window now that she hadn't seen before, looking outside she could see the shadow with four eyes staring inside. At first she thought is was staring at her, glaring and menacing, but after watching for a moment she realized that it was watching her captor. She could see nothing but hate in the creatures eyes as it stared at the man in fur. She didn't understand it, but she made a mental note for it. The fog started to swirl again, blocking her view of the creature outside, and when the fog settled again the creature was gone. She was about to turn her attention back to her captor when something about the fog caught her eye. She looked at the fog as closely as she could and it appeared to spell a word.

She tried to make out the word, but she was just too far away. She leaned closer to the window and put her hand out in front of her. Her hand touched the barrier and a tingling sensation swept through her body, causing her to gasp in pleasure. Her captor turned back to her at the sound, but seeing what caused it only made him smile and he went back to his book. The tingling sensation had caused her to pull her hand away, but it was reaching out again to feel the sensation again when she looked out the window into the fog. The fog had formed the word more clearly now and it was easily readable. It said "RESIST."

She pulled her hand away and let it fall to her side, not trusting it to do anything else. She waited, watching the fog for further clues, but even the word was starting to fade as the wind died outside. Her focus was brought back to her captor as he turned around with book and box in hand. He had apparently found the page he was looking for as the book was held open in his left hand. He placed the book down facing himself and then placed the box down, closer to the salt circle facing her. He opened the box, allowing her to see the contents. She took a half step back involuntarily when she looked in the box. The wooden box contained four human hands, they were all left hands which she didn't understand, and three human tongues. She placed her hand over her mouth and willed herself not to vomit.

The man sat down crosslegged with the book in front of him. The book was open to two pages that showed symbols on them. She looked at the symbols carved in the floor in her little prison and confirmed they were the same symbols. She swallowed hard, the urge to vomit was getting stronger. The man closed his eyes and placed his left hand on the left page. One of the symbols on the floor started to glow green, an identical symbol on the box which she hadn't noticed before began to glow green as well. 

From inside the box, the four left hands started to slowly float out of the box one at a time. They too glowed a faint green, not as bright as the symbols but still noticeable. They started to float towards her and she hoped the barrier would prevent them from entering the circle. They didn't even slow as the air shimmered around them as they continued to approach her. They split up about two feet in front of her, two of them headed for her hands and two of them headed for her hips. The two headed for her hands sped up unexpectedly and clamped themselves around her wrists. She had planned to avoid them if she could, but she hadn't expected them to speed up. They gripped her firmly, but not painfully and she couldn't break their magical grip. They raised her hands above her head and held them there, again not painfully but firmly. 

The other two hands starts roaming around her body, caressing and squeezing where it would bring her the most pleasure. Everywhere the hands touched her, they produced that same pleasurable tingling sensation she got when she touched the barrier.The hands were good at what they did, they hadn't touched anything too personal (if there is such a thing when talking about being fondled by dismembered hands) but they were starting to make her breath heavier and she could feel her body starting to react. 

She struggled against the hands on her wrists, but at this point she wasn't sure if she was struggling to get free, or struggling to get the hands to touch her in better places. She realized that her eyes were closed from the pleasure and opened them to look out the window again. The message was written in the fog again, "RESIST." It was clearer this time and she had no problem reading it. It shook her from her reverie long enough to focus her again. SHe looked down at her captor, looking for a weakness or an opening. He still sat there with one hand on the book and his eyes closed. His arousal was apparent beneath his furs though.

She stared hard at him, trying to look as defiant as possible while resisting the pleasure waves rolling through her body. The man never opened his eyes though, instead he put his right hand on the other page. The second symbol in her prison started to glow blue and a corresponding symbol on the box lit up as well. The same ritual with the tongues began, they floated slowly out of the box and toward her. The air shimmered as they passed through the barrier and they split up to confront different parts of her body, her breasts and her groin in this case. She thought about backing up to prolong the inevitable, but she didn't want to risk coming into contact with the barrier again so she stood still in silent anticipation as the tongues reached her body.

If the hands were causing tingles of pleasure to run through her body, the tongues were causing jolts everywhere they touched. Her first coherent thought after the tongues started working on her was that she was surprised the tongues were wet. She expected them to feel dry and dead, but instead they felt exactly like an expert lovers tongue wanting to please her. She arched her back, closed her eyes and let out a soft moan as the tongue between her thighs found her center and swirled around it. The jolts and tingles were running through her body constantly and her entire body felt flush. She opened her eyes and looked out the window again. Her mind unclouded as she read the same message again, but she also noticed the fog was closer to the house now. Not by much but it was noticeably closer.

Bolstered with hope, she stared defiantly at her captor again, not wanting to give away the help she was getting from the fog. His furs were tenting even farther now and she could see sweat starting to form on his forehead. However he was controlling these things, it obviously required a lot of concentration. She took a step forward, placing herself directly in the center of the salt circle, and giving her a better view outside. The hands and the tongues moved with her, making her knees weak, but she ignored it as much as she could. 

Her disembodied lovers were upping their game now. The tongues on her breasts started focusing on her nipples causing them to harden almost painfully. The tongue between her legs was now giving her wetness long full strokes that ended on her pleasure center, and the hands were kneading her tush and pulling her harder into the tongue. The renewed vigor and increased pleasure caused her to get lost for a moment. She wondered if she had ever felt this good before and started to wonder why she was trying not to enjoy it. The tongues on her nipples started to hum or vibrate, causing her to gasp and moan. She hoped the tongue between her legs could do that as well. 

It could and it did, and when it started it caused her head to shoot forward and her eyes to open. She had never felt anything like this and wanted it to continue. Her eyes drifted to the window and she saw the same message again, almost like it was more insistent. She also noticed a large shadow pacing in the fog which had now covered half the distance to the cabin. Reminded of where she was she forced herself to remember the instruments that were giving her this unbelievable pleasure. She focused on them and tried to be revolted. It was difficult considering the skill of the animated parts, but she managed to bring herself off the high she was feeling. She looked straight at her captive again, trying to be defiant and not thankful, it was difficult. Sweat was beading on his forehead now and running down his eyes and nose before falling in his tented lap. His hands weren't quite trembling, but they were beginning to twitch involuntarily. 

The floating pleasure providers switched their attacks up again. One tongue left her breast and started licking her neck where the shoulder met it, oh it felt good to her. The tongue was replaced by a hand that was squeezing her breast and pinching her nipple. The tongue on her other breast started alternating between humming on her nipple and licking her sensitive sides. One hand remained on her tush and started playing with her posterior more intimately, not penetrating, but putting pressure in all the right places. The tongue between her legs stopped moving, instead it pressed its entire length against her entire length and just vibrated. 

Her knees were starting to buckle, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Her back was arched and her eyes were closed and she pressed into the tongue as hard as she could. She could feel release coming and wanted it. Out of habit she tried to look into the eyes of her lover as she climaxed, but there was no one to look at. She looked out the window instead and saw the fog just a few feet away from the cottage now. 

She steeled her resolve and looked straight at her captor. She clenched her legs as closed as she could. It didn't stop the appendages from working but it helped her mentally focus on something besides the licking and touching. The man was now shaking and sweat was pouring from his head. She could hear him making small grunts and trying to focus. His hands clenched slightly on the books, raising his knuckles off of the paper. She felt the tongues vibrate deeper and faster, it caused her knees to buckle and she fell back on her butt. The floating appendages took advantage of this and the tongue on her neck joined the tongue between her thighs, double teaming her most sensitive region. 

She gasped and moaned and tried to keep her eyes on the window. She couldn't see outside anymore, the fog was pressed against the glass. The creature was pressed against the glass not too, his eyes staring straight at her captor. She could see him better now, he was grey in color which explained why he blended in with the fog so well, but he was covered in scales. HIs arms were disproportionately muscled and massive, one of them ending in a three clawed hand that easily reached the ground when he was standing up. His other hand looked almost normal, but there were 8 fingers on it and they were clenched in a fist. HIs breath fogged the glass of the window as he reared his clawed hand back to strike at the wall. 

The wall exploded in splinters and glass and the fog rolled into the room, making it hard for her to tell what was happening. All of the floating appendages immediately fell to the ground and her captor rose to face the creature coming through the wall. He was too late though, the creature picked him up with his hand around the man's neck and slammed him against the door to the rest of the cottage. The door cracked under the impact and the hinges almost fell away, but the creature held the man at least three feet off the ground. The fog rolled in even thicker and she heard voices telling her not to move, she listened to them this time and just watched through the thickening fog.




Failed Summoning



The man reached beneath his furs and produced a silver medallion with a strange symbol on it. As his skin touched the metal it glowed a bright blue. The creature roared in defiance and brought his clawed hand forward, skewering the medallion, the man behind it, and the door behind him. Blood covered the room and coated her invisible barrier, creating a weird blood bubble in the middle of the room. She could barely see through the gore but she could see the light fading from the man's eyes and his lips were moving as though he was trying to cast one more spell. 

The man slumped forward onto the creature as he died pinned to the wall, blood running down the creatures arm. The creature took his other hand off of the mans neck and wrapped it around the man's head, he twisted and pulled, and she could hear the bones in his neck breaking. THe sound made her sick to her stomach but she willed herself not to make a sound. After a few moments of twisting and pulling the mans head came free from his shoulders, showering the room in more blood. The creature pulled his claw from the wall and licked some of the blood from it as he turned around. The creature tossed the head out the hole he had made and she heard a screeching sound as a shadow passed in front of the hole and caught the head in it's talons. 

Whatever magic was left in the room faded with the departure of the head. Her bubble dissipated in a shimmer and the blood fell onto her naked body, not quite covering her. The fog started swirling into the room, disappearing into one of the books on the shelf. The creature started sliding that way as well, but it shoved its claw into the wooden floor, stopping its progress. Its green eyes focused on her as the fog continued to be sucked into the book. It took a step towards her and reached for her, its hand coming closer to her ankle.

A screeching sound distracted both of them as the winged shadow was sucked into the room, the mans head still gripped in one of its talons. The screeching continued as it hit the bookshelf back first, it stared at her in contempt as its body was crushed and broken to be fit back in the tome it came from. The crunching of bones and the constant screeching filled the room for over a minute as both the woman and the creature watched in horror. The screeching stopped as the creature was ripped back into the book and the whole cottage shook. 

The creature roared in defiance as it slid closer to the bookshelf. It reached for her again and she saw that the creature was close enough to grab her, she put her hands under her and started to skitter backwards, but it proved unnecessary as a mighty wind blew the door to the room inwards, catching the creature in the head and dislodging its grip on the floor. it too slammed into the bookshelf and the process of being crushed and broken starting again. It took longer this time, the creature was much bigger than the winged shadow, but the result was the same as the creature disappeared with a final roar.

The fog was thinning now and she could see clearer now. The pages attached to the wall behind her had been sucked back into the book, but other than that the room remained unchanged. In fact, now that she thought about it she hadn't felt any wind as all of this had happened, but now she felt wind and it was going towards the book as well. With a final whisper of "thank you", the fog and the wind was gone, and she was alone again. 

She picked herself up and carefully stepped over the body in the doorway. She made her way to the kitchen and started washing the blood off of herself. Next she gathered her cell phone and the blanket in front of the fireplace. Checking her cell phone she noticed that her text had sent and she had received a reply in the form of a frowny face. She responded with a text of her own saying if he wanted to give her a 'ride' now, she could use a lift back to her house. She stepped out of the cottage wrapped in the blanket and started making her way back to the car. It wasn't as difficult as she thought it was going to be for it seemed that as a parting gift, the voice left a trail of blooming flowers for her to follow. As she walked back to the car, she gave instructions to her dance partner to find her and her house and he responded that he was on the way, especially after hearing that she had been in a car accident. 

She waited at the wrecked car for him as she called the police. They arrived at about the same time and she explained that she spun out and hit a tree in some fog. They seemed to be ok with this explanation and she was able to leave with her dance partner back to her house. She couldn't wait to get there and finally get an orgasm, and neither could I...



Failed Surprise



Su turned up at Paul's place unannounced to see if she could catch him putting on some porn and settling in for a nice slow, long masturbation session. She snuck in with her key and was only mildly surprised to see she'd guessed right. Although he was still clothed, on his TV a petite brunette was being forced to her knees in front of a man who looked like he was enjoying dominating her.

She watched him as he watched the couple on TV and her excitement was matching his by the moment. Paul was rubbing his cock through his jeans as his bulge grew, watching the guy on the screen pulling the girl's hair, forcing his cock into her mouth. The girl was struggling with the cock in the back of her throat, but seemed to be getting off on the domination. As Paul released his belt and undid his button fly Su squeezed her pert tits, gripping down on the circles of metal through each nipple and suppressing the urge to moan aloud. Watching her boyfriend stroke his cock without his knowledge was turning her on more than the porn was turning him on. Unable to resist the ultimate temptation any more, she slid a hand down the inside of her skirt and touched her clit. The electricity was sublime and she let out a deep moan.

Paul could see Su in the reflection of his television and had long since given up on the porn, which was now destined to be more than background images and noises. When he heard her moan the illusion of ignorance had to be over. He turned and looked into her eyes. She was busted and laughed at him, wanting to know what her punishment would be. Paul stood up from the sofa, walked over to her and reached for her hand before pulling her to the sofa and bending her over the back of it. She was told to watch the porn as he flipped up her skirt to reveal her pantie-less arse.

"You're a naughty little girl... I don't know what your game is but you're about to be punished for it" he said as he firmly swatted her right arse cheek with his hand 3 times.

"You don't have the guts to punish me properly!"

Without any way to tie her down he was going to have to trust her to stay in place, but his plans were probably right up her alley and she had porn so he doubted she'd be going anywhere. Paul dropped to his knees and gently traced his tongue from her pierced clit all the way to her puckered rosebud. This time the moan from Su's lips were more intense than before. Using his fingers to stroke her clit and pull at the piercing, Paul drove his tongue deep into Su's pussy, savouring her fragrant smells and taste before poking his tongue out as far as he could and tonguefucking her deeply and slowly. She was in raw ecstasy, clawing at the sofa and pushing her cunt back onto her boyfriend's face as he made her cum, screaming, twice in quick succession. As she recovered Su felt him lick and suck the last of her cum from deep within her before standing up and spanking her, hard, yet again.

His cock slid into her tight wet cunt in the same way it usually did, lubed enough to go easy, but not too easily. When he was all the way in Paul stopped to let her get used to his presence before pounding her hard again and again. She was screaming now, the sofa almost tearing under her nails as orgasms washed through her repeatedly. His cock filled her completely and every time he penetrated her fully she was unable to take any more. After her biggest orgasm yet today she told him to stop for a moment to allow her to recover.

Paul dropped to his knees again and, ignoring her protests, licked and sucked at her juicy pussy. This time he had a different agenda and worked his way to her arse, licking her delicate hole and lubing it up with a combination of her juices and his saliva. He poked his tongue inside her arse, pushing the spit in there and tongued her hole until he thought it was ready to be fucked.

Su was waiting for it. As she felt him stand up she relaxed her arse and waited for the invasion. When it came it was his usual gentle approach that, while sometimes wanting it rough from the start, she really did appreciate. He had spat on his cock as well to ease entry and was already at least 4 inches inside her before he started thrusting harder. The poor girl couldn't reach her clit from where she was and had a cock deep in her arse so she just held on and enjoyed the ride as much as she dared, knowing that he'd be cumming any time now. Su tried to force herself down onto the sofa cushions to get some clit action and it worked... another orgasm arrived just as he pulled out of her arse and pushed her to his knees in front of him.

Stroking his rigid cock furiously, Paul told Su to get ready for a load of cum on her face and tits. His breathing became shallow and she knew it wouldn't be long now so she pushed his hands away and took his meat deep into the back of her throat, forcing it past her gag reflex. That was all it took. Moments later the first shot filled her mouth before Paul pulled her off his cock by the hair and aimed the rest at her tits and face, scooping any near her mouth into it so she could taste more.

They both lay down on the carpet and rubbed Paul's cum into her face, all over Su's tits and he even scooped what he could into her pussy and arse.