0 comments/ 105436 views/ 11 favorites Like A Virgin By: Chicklet Kyle looked at his bride from across the room. She was beautiful, red hair pulled back in a loose bun, pale skin looking creamy against the green dress. She looked over her shoulder at him with her blue eyes, blew him a kiss, and went back to her group of guests. Kyle's hands ached to get on that slim waist, and he could feel his palms begin to sweat with anticipation. It was their wedding day, and this was the night they'd been saving themselves for. Unless, of course, John was telling the truth. "I swear, Kyle, she's no virgin," John muttered, taking another drink of champagne. "My brother dated her for three years in high school, and he said she wasn't a virgin then!" "I just don't know why she would lie to me," said Kyle, softly. He had been honest with her, she knew he wasn't a virgin, but he'd stayed away from her because she had wanted to save herself for marriage. "I dunno, man, but you've been had. I tried to tell you last week, but I couldn't get time alone with you." "Well, we're married now, and she'll have to say something tonight, won't she?" "Yeah, I guess," John said very unconvincingly. John felt awfully guilty, telling his best friend about this on Kyle's wedding day. But what was he supposed to do, just sit back and let him find out the hard way? Well, probably…but a little bit of alcohol and he was ready to spill the beans. This was a secret that he'd been holding in for a long time. Kyle flexed the muscle in his jaw, trying not to clench his teeth. He stood very straight, all six feet. He was a good-looking man, with a squarish face, full lips, green eyes and short brown hair. Vickie had lied to him. Why had she lied to him? This was no way to start a new life together. After the reception the newlyweds rode off in their limo to their hotel, and once inside their room Vickie turned on her husband. "You've been glaring at me all night, babe, what's up?" She said, crossing her arms. She was always defensive when she thought he was angry with her. Kyle shot her another glare. "Do you know John Miller?" he said, not breaking eye contact. "He's Seth Miller's brother." Vickie blinked twice, rapidly. "No," she said. "Either you're lying, or John is lying, and I've known John all my life." He said, quietly. He wanted to believe her. "Well, you married me, so I think that there's some trust there," Vickie said, eyes tearing up a little bit. "Then why are you crying when I haven't even told you what he said?" "Do you love me, Kyle?" "Of course I love you, I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't love you. We wouldn't be here right now if I didn't think that you were the most perfect, kind, loving woman in the whole world." Kyle walked over to Vickie and put his arms around her. "I love you," he whispered in to her ear, taking the soft lobe gently in his mouth and sucking on it slowly. "Then it doesn't matter what John said, does it?" A flood of anger filled Kyle. She was trying to turn it around! She was manipulating him! The bitch! He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Sucking the lobe further between his lips, he nipped it quickly with his teeth. "Kyle!" Vickie shrieked, jumping in his arms. He held her tight, pulling her even closer to him. "You lied to me, didn't you, bitch?" he hissed into her ear, holding her close. "You're no fucking virgin." He bit her ear again, not too hard, just enough to make her tremble a little in his arms. "You're hurting me!" Vickie hissed. "Leave me alone!" "Admit it, darling," he said the last dripping with sarcasm, "You've fucked before, haven't you? You just wouldn't fuck me!" "I'm sorry!" she whimpered, tensing in his arms. The feel of his arms around her body was turning her on, despite the cruel words he was growling into her ear. His lips around her lobe felt very, very good, but the pain he was causing her with his voice made her stomach turn. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…I thought you'd like me more if I were a virgin…" "That's a lame excuse, Vickie," Kyle growled. He was so angry. She had never heard this tone in his voice; in fact, he had never heard it either. This was his wedding day; he was supposed to be in the throes of passion with his beloved right now, not talking about the fact that she'd been lying to him for nine months. "I'm sorry," she whimpered again, gasping as he tightened his arms around her, hugging her so tight she feared he would crush her. Then suddenly he let her go, her weak legs almost collapsing underneath her, Kyle standing over her and glaring down. "You will be," he said ominously, taking her shoulders and pushing her down to her knees. He was angry, but he held the violence that he feared would come to the surface in check, instead touching her with gentle firmness. Sensing his tension, Vickie obeyed his hands, looking up at him with pleading eyes. She was a pretty sight, kneeling in a pool of forest green silk. In their brief struggle some of her red hair had come undone from the bun and was curling around her face. Kyle untied his tie calmly. He was angry. His whole body vibrated with anger. It almost scared him, these feelings, and the fact that he wanted to act upon them scared him more. To take out his frustrations on his new wife was impossible, said one part of him. She deserved it, the other said. She had lied to him. He saw Vickie flinch as he moved closer to her. A chill tingled up and down his spine. "I know you're sorry," he said, "and I'm going to give you a chance to make it up to me." Her big blue eyes looked up at him, tears drenching the long lashes. "Stand up," he said. Vickie struggled to her feet. She loved Kyle so much. The lie she'd told him didn't seem like such a big deal at the time, nine months ago, when they had met. She was on her period, hadn't wanted to have sex with him, even though he was quite a lusty man. They had met in a bar, he'd come over, purchased her a drink. After an hour of the best conversation they'd ever had, he had invited her back to his place. Not wanting to ruin the good impression she'd made, the fib about being a virgin seemed to just slide off her tongue, out her lips, and into the air. Later, after a few more dates, Vickie had wanted to come clean, but Kyle seemed so impressed by it…She didn't know how to say that she'd been lying all this time. Every day for the two months of their engagement she'd wanted to tell, she knew that on their wedding night he'd find out, but every day that passed without admitting it made it that much harder for her to tell him. She knew that he'd be upset, even angry, and maybe angry enough to break off the wedding. And that was too hard for her to comprehend. He was angry, she'd been right to assume that. He was definitely angry. She stood trembling in front of him. Kyle's eyes roamed down her body, a body that she'd given to other men but had denied him. Her head was bent, eyes looking up through those dark lashes. Tears were running down her face. Her arms were hugging each other lightly, defensively, trying to comfort herself. Kyle moved quickly before he changed his mind, reaching for her and pulling her around, his other hand gripping her wrists and holding them at the small of her back. Leaning in, he nipped her neck, moving small kisses up the flesh to her ear again. She half moaned half whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and fear as he bit her ear softly. "Stop it, Kyle, I'm sorry, I can explain!" "There's nothing to explain," growled Kyle. "You have explained enough already." His tie was in his right hand, and he quickly wrapped it around her wrists. Even in his angered state he was careful not to damage her skin, tying the knot loosely around her wrists. It would hold, but it wouldn't cut off her circulation. Vickie panicked, tugging her wrists once he let go of them, more than testing her restraints. Her tears rolled down her cheeks, her breasts heaved as she struggled to get free. "Calm down, Vickie," Kyle whispered into her ear, moving his hands up her silk-clad body and pinching the small, hard nipples poking through. "I'm not going to hurt you. Much." Kyle turned Vickie around to face him again, hands in a firm grip on her upper arms. "I think it's time I got to see the body you've been hiding from me, Vickie, my love," he said, eyes on her heaving bosom. Out of his pants pocket he pulled his Swiss Army Knife, opening it while his other hand still gripped her arm. Vickie sucked in her breath, trying to pull back, but his hard grip kept her in place. He placed the knife, blade outwards, in her cleavage, pulling it down and sawing through the expensive green silk and bra underneath. Her breasts poured out of the shreds of fabric, gorgeous orbs of creamy skin. They were a good handful, perky for their size. The aureoles were dark pink, about the size of a quarter, with rather small wrinkled nipples becoming harder with the cold of the room that they were being exposed to. Vickie turned her face away in shame. She hadn't wanted his first glimpse of his body to be like this. Kyle ripped the knife down the rest of her dress, sparing the panties, but slitting it all the way to the ground. The next step was to cut away the sleeves, and then he had his bride in front of him, in lacy white panties, a garter belt, and sheer white panty hose. Vickie stood shivering in her underwear, arms helpless behind her back. Kyle couldn't resist touching, and let go of her arms to caress her body with his palms. He started at her neck and ran his big hand down her throat, through the little valley between her breasts and around her belly button. Circling back up, he felt her breasts, pinching the nipples lightly, relishing in her shudder of delight. His hands went down the sides of her body, tracing her hips, and reached the garters. He unhooked the hose, and slowly pulled them down her silky smooth legs. "This could have been different, you know," he said softly as he pulled off the panty hose and then her panties. "We could be laying in bed right now exploring each others bodies. But, honestly, I'm enjoying this a lot." All Vickie could respond with was another whimper, as Kyle moved his hands up her thighs to her pubic mound, where he began to toy with her springy pubic hair. He could smell her arousal, she might not like her hands to be tied, but her body was enjoying his touch. He smiled, and stood up from his crouch in front of his wife. "I think that you owe me a bit for lying to me, don't you think?" he asked her, taking her chin in his hand. She nodded as best she could with her head pointed up towards his face. "Then I think first I want you to stand right here, with your legs spread, while I whip you a couple times with my belt." The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, surprised even Kyle himself. He could hardly believe he'd said it out loud. Was he actually going to hit her? Cause her pain? She'd lied to him, over and over and over. She'd sworn in front of a church full of people that she would love and cherish him for the rest of her life, but she'd lied. He was hurt, and he wanted her to hurt too. A strange feeling was bubbling in his belly, and his cock was hard against his slacks. The idea of whipping her, combined with her naked body bound in front of him, was arousing him in a way he'd never felt before. Taking a deep breath he unbuckled his belt, folding it in half and dangling it in front of Vickie's big green eyes. Vickie looked at him, shock in her eyes. Her chest heaved with each gulp of air she took, her large breasts quivering. Goose bumps had risen over her entire body, but she couldn't help the arousal flowing through her veins. Her husband was preparing to whip her and it was exciting. She spread her legs and braced herself. Kyle swung his belt a couple of times for practice. The sight of Vickie's bottom clenching with each whoosh of air made him smile. The persistant pulsing in his cock seemed to send throbbing pleasure through his entire body, and he took a deep breath before he hit her on her round, pert behind. Vickie yelped and jumped forward, pulling her legs together and spinning around to face him. He sighed. This wouldn't work; no matter how scared she was she couldn't just stand there while he hit her. An idea struck him. Inside his suitcase he had a couple of things that might help him out. He grabbed them now, and crossed back over the room to his wife. Kyle grabbed Vickie's arm and lead her to the large bed. She expected him to throw her down on it and fuck her brains out, but instead he stood her at the foot, facing the mattress, and crouched down beside her. He took one of her ankles and pulled it over to the post. With a spare tie, he bound her right leg to the bed, and then he crossed over to the left leg and pulled it the full length of the mattress over to the other post, where he secured it with a tube sock. The restraints looked comical, but they did their job. Despite the strain in her thigh muscles, being spread open and so exposed made her tingle with excitement. She shifted her weight back and forth, trying to get comfortable. Juices dripped down her thighs, making her feel more naked than she'd ever felt before. She was so concerned with the humiliation she was experiencing that she didn't notice Kyle moving behind her again, lifting his arm, and letting the belt swat her on the bottom. The first stroke made her jump, her mouth opening wide in a silent cry of pain and pleasure. The second stroke followed quickly, and this time she was able to make some noise. SMACK! The leather hit her soft skin again, Kyle growing bolder and hitting harder. The blow seemed to slice her bottom in half. Gasps came from her as she lost her balance and fell forward onto the mattress. Her bound legs kept her in place, her bottom rising above her in the air, a bright red target for Kyle's next swing. He hit her again, and again, until her hips were grinding in the air, slick fluids coating her thighs as she moaned into the bed. She had never expected herself to feel this way in such circumstances, and Kyle was surprised at his own reaction, as well. Her ass was turning an angry, dark red before he finally stopped striking her. Walking over to her, he heard her moaning into the mattress. His cock felt larger than it had ever been before, full of blood and throbbing with need. Tossing the belt onto the bed beside Vickie's face, Kyle reached out his hand and tentatively touched her bottom. Heat seemed to radiate from her angry red skin, the cool feel of his hands making her moan louder and push her backside into his hands. He slid his hand up her back, and then, taking her shoulders gently in his hands, pulled her into a standing position once again. Vickie's body shook from arousal and pain. His hands on her skin felt so good, and the heat in her bottom was only a mild ache compared to the fire between her legs. She pushed her hips up and back, yearning to feel his cock in her body. She wanted him, and whimpered as his hands moved around to her front, teasing her breasts with his fingers. Vickie was not masochistic, had never had any fantasies about control, but something about Kyle taking the upper hand and punishing her for her lies was fitting. Kyle leaned against her, his lips finding her ear once again, his fingers pinching her nipples softly. He pushed his crotch into her hot backside, his stiff erection teasing her even further. Kyle wanted nothing more than to fuck her brains out until she begged him to stop. One hand slipped off her breast, down her belly, and between her thighs. Vickie gasped as his middle finger stroked her sopping slit, gathering the fluids there and spreading them between the crack of her ass, prodding the tight hole between the cheeks. She moaned in pleasure as he slipped back down, roughly rubbing her swollen clit, pinching it between his fingers as he pinched her nipples in his opposite hand. He'd waited months for her pussy, and it was time for him to claim it. Kyle's cock wasn't large, an average six inches, but it was thicker than usual. Letting go of her breast to undo his slacks, the throbbing cock burst out, it's hot skin rubbing against Vickie's. Vickie gasped at the contact, pushing her hips back towards it, her legs straining to free themselves so that she could impale herself on the staff. She groaned throatily as Kyle moved his hand away from her hot pussy, moving both hands back to her breasts, and slowly leaned in on her, pushing her front back onto the bed. With slow, fluid movements, Kyle rubbed his cock against the slick slit between his wife's legs. The juices were warm against his hot skin, driving him crazy. He moved his staff from her hot pussy between her cheeks, pushing it back down. Vickie cried out in pleasure as the head of his cock nudged at her opening, and then louder as he penetrated her private place. She was tight around him, her spread legs clenching as he thrust into her soft flesh. He moaned contentedly, moving his hands up from her breasts to her hips, holding them still as he pushed fluidly in and out of her. The feeling was the best, taking her, fucking her, using her. Never before had he experienced such pleasure while making love. Vickie thought that she might as well be a virgin from the new pleasures she was experiencing. The very few experiences she'd had were nothing like this; nothing in the world was like this. This pleasure that spread from her pussy through her legs and back and arms to the very tips of her tongue was the best thing she had ever had. She never wanted it to stop. She felt her body rocking closer and closer to a climax, an orgasm that threatened to be the one to break her in half. Her eyes clenched closed, her fingers wrapped tight together behind her back, her hips in his arms. She opened her mouth and cried out into the mattress as it took her, shaking her, numbing her brain. There was only pleasure, the warmth, the heat, the fire that spread through her blood. The clenching around his cock, the spasms of the pussy he buried himself in, triggered Kyle's own peak. He cried out, thrusting harder inside her, until spurts of his own fluid filled the tight pussy. This was another first for him. Never before had he spent himself into a woman. But this was his wife, and this was a privilege that would be his from now on. The pleasure of the orgasm fading, a new pleasure spread through his body. His wife, his beloved. Lie or no lie, she was his now, to have and to hold forever. Kyle relaxed against his wife, pushing her into the bed with his weight. Her heavy breaths moved him up and down as he smiled into her neck, kissing her skin gently. After a couple of minutes he pushed himself up, listening to her gasp as he pulled his limp cock out of her pussy, leaving her empty and cold. Kyle didn't bother wiping up the mess, his fluids and hers mixing on his half-limp cock, but climbed on to the bed in front of Vickie. He reached for her and stroked her cheek, smiling down at her red face. He took a handful of her hair in his fist, tugging her head up gently, placing his legs on either side of her face and resting back against the headboard. "Lick it off," he said commandingly, pushing his hips up towards her face Vickie had never put a cock in her mouth after sex. She always insisted that her partner wash off first, and if there was cum on it…well…that wasn't even an option. Now, she balked, turning her head away, eyes squeezed shut, refusing to open her mouth for this humiliation. Kyle thrust his dick at her face, wiping the cum on her lips and cheeks. "Come on," he urged, taking his cock in his hand and offering it to her face. "Come on. No teeth, just tongue. Lick it off." Vickie's insides twisted at the humiliation she was experiencing. But the need that had so recently been satisfied between her legs began to ache once again as she opened her lips, taking her husband into her mouth and lapping obediently at the tangy flesh. She tasted the sour taste of her own juices, the salty taste of his. They were mixed together and it aroused her once more. Like A Virgin Big-Boobied Bimbo Educator Hilda Humper fucks her students in: "Like A Virgin" Written and edited by Victor C. Nathan "Oh, yes!" Hilda Humper cried out in a bloodcurdling scream that caused the walls of her office to shake. "Oh, yes, Kenny! Come in me! Give me every fucking drop of you! Squirt your fucking wee wee juice in my fucking pussy, you ten inch teacherfucker! Oh, my long wee wee baby, I'm coming too, you fucking king of cocks!" Hilda and her student Kenny Long writhed on the sofa in her office and their bodies moved together as they both reached a riveting climactic orgasm. Hilda's inner muscles squeezed and released Kenny's thick sausage of a penis as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her eighteen-year-old student exploded inside of her again and again, blasting his fluid far into the recesses of her tight vagina. "Uuuuhhhhh! Uuuuhhhhh!" Kenny grunted as his ten inch phallus spit stream after stream of his thick sticky semen into her tunnel. "Mmmmmmmmm! Fuuuuuuuck!" "Oh, my," the 38-year-old teacher whispered as her orgasmic enjoyment finally ended and a pleasantly faint afterglow of a tingle coursed through every fiber of her pussy. "You good, good fucker. Kenny, you've got one of the biggest dicks I've ever seen. Only Henry is bigger than you are. That fucker of his gets so hard and long and thick and throbbing when I whip that motherfucker out of his pants and stroke the shit out of it and let him squirt his jizz all over my big damn boobies. But I can bet you that I will never fuck a bigger one than your ten inch hog. He's a big motherfucker, baby. He sure makes little Hildy's pussy happy as hell." "Well, I just got lucky, I guess," young Kenny replied modestly as he slid his substantial cock out of the glove-tight sheath of her cunny and watched as she did her usual routine and licked it completely clean with her tongue. "Mmmmmmm. Now that feels good, Miss Humper. I'm obliged to you." "Mmmmmmm," Hilda cooed as her tongue completed the job of cleaning off his slowly sagging pecker. "Gosh, your weanie tastes so fucking good. I just love the taste of cum in the afternoon. This just guaranteed you an 'A' for the semester. When I get dicked this good then you deserve a reward. When your dick goes in, then good grades should go out. Tee hee. When you get my pussy wetter, then your motherfucking grades get better. That's how it works, Cock King." "Thanks, Miss Humper," Kenny said, grinning as she finished lapping all of the goo off of his schlong. "But I'm the lucky one. Big jugs and great sex with a pretty woman like you. I'm quite fortunate. I don't care about my grades as much as I care about a great fuck. My wee wee's been hungry for it all day. Even having your daughter suck me off in the janitor's closet after class wasn't enough to satiate my prick." "Well, you got the biggest dick I've ever fucked," Hilda said, reiterating what she had just said a minute before. "Baby, I hate to do this and I wanted to hump one more time and maybe suck some cum out of your wee wee, but I have a new student that is just arriving at this school and I need to talk to him before the new semester begins tomorrow. Too bad I won't get to have that cock of yours in my pussy again today. Geez, it's so fucking huge." With this remark Miss Humper kissed Kenny's sagging length and rose to put her clothes back on, retrieving her bra and panties from the pile of clothing that was strewn across the floor of the office. Kenny too began to slide on his underwear and then his pants. They both sighed from the heavenly fuck that they had just enjoyed. It was just another day in the life of Hilda Hannah Humper. She and Kenny romped in her office a few times a week. They would fuck everywhere. Desktops, sofas, the floor and up against the wall were all places that they enjoyed bumping pelvises. Sex was Hilda's lifeblood. It was what sustained her in her everyday life. It was her reason to live and move and breathe. "Bye, honey," Hilda Humper softly intoned as she kissed Kenny and then rubbed his penis through the fabric of his pants as he placed his hands beneath her mammoth chest and sweetly cupped her boobs. "Fuck ya later." She giggled and cupped his groin area then kissed him again before he stepped from her office. Kenny Long smiled back at her and then turned and took off down the hall, satisfied with the afternoon's activities. His dick felt good. It always did after he left Hilda's office. Kenny felt placated and a good satisfying sense of cathartic release. Hilda was a prime fuck. He looked forward to every single day that he could get his ten inch cock up into her. Kenny especially loved when his teacher would suck him, and boy, oh, boy, did she ever like to do that. Hilda Humper could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and because of this he must have shot a gallon of cum into her stomach in the last month. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhh," Miss Humper squealed, her face flushed as she used a vibrator on herself, her legs apart and resting on her desk. "Mmmmmmmmm, yeah! I love my fucking battery-operated boyfriend!" It would be a few minutes before her new student would come to her office to talk to her and now she wished that she had kept Kenny around for one more quickie to pass the time. Hilda's pussy loved to fuck him, to have his wee wee overflow her snug slot with his abundance of fluid. Now she decided that she would pull the next male student that walked by her office door into her office so she could fuck him real quick. The 38-year-old teacher opened her door just a smidgen and looked out into the hallway. She was scanning it for potential good fuckers. Just passing her office at that very moment was timid student Jeremy Peters. Hilda had heard from the grapevine that Jeremy had a small penis and she wanted to find out for herself. "Come here, sweetie," the big-boobed vixen huskily invited him as she grabbed the edge of his shirt. "I want to talk to you, dear." "M-m-m-me?" Jeremy stammered nervously as he gave her a surprised look, his eyes shyly taking her and her bulbous boobs in. "You need to talk to me, Miss Humper?" "Yes, Jeremy," Hilda replied, giving him a devious grin as she yanked him into her office and slammed the door behind him. "I need to have a minute with you." "Am I in trouble?" Jeremy asked her softly, his eyes falling. "What did I do wrong?" "Nothing," the educator said dismissingly, seeming to ignore his questions as she stroked his arm. "Now let's see what we have here." Hilda went to one knee and began to undo his belt and then unbuttoned his pants. Next she unzipped his fly and slid down the young boy's blue jeans. "What are you doing?" Jeremy asked in a voice that could safely be described as frightened. Hilda knew that he had to be a virgin. She eased his briefs down and lovingly reached for what was indeed a small stub of a penis. "Here is what I was looking for," Hilda said in a soothing voice that she hoped would calm the shy boy as she gingerly touched his genitals. "You ever had a girl see this cock of yours, Jeremy? Ever whipped your wee wee out in front of someone of the fairer sex, someone with some ladybumps?" "N-n-n-no," Jeremy Peters stuttered and then looked down at his teacher with astonishment as she ran her palm over his private parts. "Never have at all. None of the girls want to date me." "Well, Hilda would sure like to help your little dick out, sweetie. Can she do that for you? She would enjoy it too. How about letting her make it feel good? Would that be okay, hon? I'd love to play with your pee wee." "Yes, ma'am, Miss Humper," Jeremy said with a smile as he glanced down the blouse of the kneeling buxom teacher to admire her mountain tits. "Now don't be scared," Hilda reassured him as she lowered her head and gave his little dick a kiss on its head. "I'm just going to start out by sucking on him a little bit. I promise it'll be fun. Hold still, sugar. I'm going to suck ya." Miss Humper took the short stub of a pecker into her mouth and gently but skillfully applied pressure to it. She did it slow so as not to astonish the boy or frighten him. Hilda knew he was not at all experienced. Then she stopped. "If I keep doing this then your penis is going to start squirting," Hilda said, talking to him like a child. "Have you ever had that happen when you were rubbing him, honey? Ever had Mr. Happy to spit?" "Y-y-y-yes, ma'am," Jeremy Peters uttered abashedly, feeling his wee wee tickle pleasantly. "Once or twice I did." "And it felt good, didn't it?" Hilda replied, rubbing what was a rapidly swelling penis. "I'll bet it tickled your little dinky too. It looks like I got you tickled right now when I started licking and sucking on your peter." And she had. Hilda grinned a grin that was toothy and wickedly seductive as she rubbed a cock that was growing to a surprising five inches. "Oh, baby," Hilda sighed breathily as she planted a kiss on the end of Jeremy's planting tool. "Look at you! You are getting so big now!" "Mmmmmmmmm," was all the lad could manage as the astonishment of what was happening finally set in. "It feels good, Miss Humper." "It's going to feel so much better," Hilda said forcefully as she raised her dark skirt until Jeremy could make out her blond patch and sweet pussy just below it. "We're going to do something very secretarial. It is the good old fashioned, tried and true quickie. Mr. Happy is going to take a little trip to Cunnyland. How would you like to be my lover, my boyfriend, for fifteen minutes? You want to fuck my funny cunny with your grown up pee wee, baby boy?" "Yeeeaaaahhhhhhh!" Jeremy Peters practically cheered as his cock had reached its fully erect apex and was rigid and ready for her. "This is my first one, Miss Humper." "It's okay, Jeremy," Hilda said coyly as she stretched out on her desk and removed her blouse and any other encumberance to full access to her watermelon-sized jugs. "I'll be the teacher and guide you into the gates of pleasure. Come to momma. Come fuck me, sweetie. Put pee wee into pussy." "Don't have to call me to dinner twice," Jeremy said in a voice that was deeper and braver and more confident than it had been minutes before. "Oh, Miss Humper, I can't believe this is really happening." "Believe it," Hilda spoke quickly as the youth moved towards her and she rested her legs on his shoulders. "If we do it this way, it will let you get your dick deeper inside me. I'll get you so far in there and pump and squeeze that little sucker until he'll never want to come out." Young eighteen-year-old Jeremy was positioned in just the right spot at the end of the desk and he slid in between his teacher's fleshy legs that perched on his shoulders securely. Then Jeremy slid forward. Reaching down, Hilda guided his swollen cock, positioning it just right as he moved against her and slid into the tight tight sleeve of her hot and soaking wet pussy. "Oh, my!" Jeremy naively cried, sounding like a child enjoying the newfound thrills of a merry-go-round. "It's so tight and so hot! It feels great Miss Humper, just great!" "Aaaaahhhhhh!" his teacher cooed as her pupil's pecker slid its way home. "You're bigger than I thought. That feels fucking amazing, baby. Now use it, new fucker." Hilda gave him the cue as she moved her hips and her pussy gripped his shocked stick. She could feel Jeremy throbbing inside of her. Then this first-timer began to slowly thrust. Jeremy wasn't sure of himself at first, but he finally found his rhythm. He grunted and moaned with excitement and his eager hands grabbed the bouncing bazooms that were moving like quaking mountains on Hilda's full- fleshed frame that was outstretched on the cold oak desktop. The harder he rammed against her, the higher they leaped up at her face, which was by now a mask of pleasure. "Oh, fuck me, baby! Give me that happy fuckstick of yours! Make him boom, sweetie! Make that fucker boom inside me! I'm on fire, you hot fucker! Fuck the shit out of me! Make me come! Make my fucking pussy come! Oh, fuck me harder! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Hilda Humper's erotic screams were wall-shaking and her words were as lewd as they always were when she was in the heat of passion. Jeremy felt his johnson tense and knew from the tingle that he was just seconds from squirting inside his horny hellcat of a teacher's fuckhappy pussy. "You want me to come, Miss Humper?" Jeremy asked as his plunges grew more frenzied and Hilda's hips jolted with her rhythm. "You bet your sweet fucking prick I want you to come!" Hilda cried out as she felt the ridge of the boy's penis head swell inside her. "Give me every fucking drop you have, baby! Flood me! Flood me!" The buxom Miss Humper ground her hips against his five inch boner that was slid, buried, rammed to the hilt inside of her pussy. Her cries were more like whimpers at this point and young Jeremy smiled as he felt her sopping insides grip his penis like a rubber glove. Jeremy Peters was about to blast. He felt gratified knowing that at last he had finally gotten to have sex. A virgin no more! His hands went to Hilda's hips that were moving against his pressure-filled phallus. The moment of truth had arrived and this high school student felt the back-up of fluid growing in his testicles and creeping, sneaking up into the tube of his pecker, yearning to shoot a stream of liquid satisfaction into his teacher's vagina. Jeremy thrust only two more times and then held his dick fully inside of her as he felt himself let go and the tingle of orgasm shoot like a laser down the inside of his cock as he ejaculated mightily. "Oh, yeah! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" Jeremy groaned, moaned and growled all simultaneously as he gripped Hilda at the waist, big boobies still flopping, and felt the first powerful stream of jism gush in a tickle from his organ and cream the deep inside of her lush pussy. "Holy shit! That feels good!" "Yes, honey! Give it to me so........Aaaaahhhhh!" Hilda's screamed instructions were interrupted by the otherworldly orgasm that took over her body and ran through it like a strong volt of electricity. Her inner muscles contracted and loosened, contracted and loosened as she reached her heavenly delight. Jeremy squealed and cried like a child naive in the erotic arts as his penis continued to fire squirt after squirt of cum into Hilda's currently receiving cunny. "Oh, fuck! Oh, fucking shit!" Hilda screeched, her eyes taut shut and her body flailing and jostling as the climax claimed all. "Come, baby, come! I want you to remember this one for the rest of your little life!" "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Thank you, Miss Humper!" Jeremy hollered as his penis seemed to keep spurting for an eternity, making up for eighteen years of no sex and two balls filled with a lot of pent-up cum. "Yeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaa!" Finally the student's peter stopped its fire hose mechanism of ejaculation and sputtered at last to dormancy. Mr. Peters was spent. Hilda swayed and bucked on the desktop as her sweet sensations subsided, her pussy being turned momentarily into a little piece of erotic paradise. It was tingling and so wet that the oak wood beneath her was sticky with her pungent juices that she had produced in such abundance. The twang of her sweet smelling pussy was intoxicating in its odor. "Wow!" Jeremy said in astonishment as he came back to earth at last, his eyes wild and full of life. "Miss Humper, that was the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me!" "Oh, baby," Hilda spoke softly as the boy pulled his prick out of her wet crevice and fell into a nearby chair. "You were amazing! That was a doozy of a fuck! I am so happy for you! Congratulations, baby! Want me to clean that manly cock off for you before you go?" Hilda sat up on the desk, her bosom jarring before him and smiled a broad smile that was filled with warmth. She softly touched Jeremy's rapidly shrinking penis that was so sticky with the mingling of their juices that were still fresh on it from their fuck. Then Hilda went to her knees before him and guided his member to her lips. "Happy first time, baby," she gingerly spoke as she looked up into his wide gimlet eyes for just a brief few seconds. "Let's get the big boy cleaned off. Gosh, you're a good first time fucker." Hilda Humper lapped all the sticky fluid off of Jeremy Peters' proud peter before she handed him his underwear, let him get dressed and walked him to the door. When he departed, she smiled broadly. "That was fun," Hilda said to herself as she sat at her desk wearing nothing but the green panties that she had decided to put on. "I love to fuck and I love breaking in the young cocks. He walks in a virgin and walks out a man. Tee hee hee. He was fucking the shit out of me. For a first fuck, that was one for the highlight reel. Sometimes I forget how important education is. Students need to know two things. They need to be erudite and they need to know how to fuck a pussy. Tee hee. Educate 'em, fellate 'em and fornicate 'em. The ABCs of motherfucking learning." THE END Like a Virgin -- But Not It would be easy to say it all started because I needed a cheap sofa for my new house, but that would be disingenuous at best, a lie at worst. The truth is that I was drawn to the idea of a D/s relationship. In the distant past, I had stumbled on a website for women interested in the D/s lifestyle. Ever since, I spent every spare dime and hour living a vicarious D/s existence through pornography. When my Craigslist search drifted from "furniture" to "casual encounters," it was actually the natural progression of my interest in a D/s relationship, not chance. The time had come for me to live what had been relegated to the realm of fantasy. Here is how I lost my submissive's "virginity" through my first experience with a Dominant – and, in the process, began to discover love that brings meaning to my life, thus starting a journey that I hope never ends. First, there was a brief exchange of e-mails. I responded to the Dominant's Craigslist posting for a submissive partner for dinner and other "casual encounters" during the Dominant's five day business trip in the area. In all my e-mails, despite expressing myself formally and respectfully, I was honest about my total lack of experience in submission. What I did not realize at the time was that my honesty proved to the Dominant that I was a real, live person, not the usual automated lure for a pay-by-the-minute chat line. Then came the Dominant's telephone call and invitation to dinner. The Dominant offered the security of a meeting in a public restaurant of my choice, but included a challenge in submission. The Dominant said I should arrive to meet him with my panties pulled up tight into my cunt and ass. Even though I fully expected my first meeting with the Dominant to be my last, it never occurred to me to not to action on that instruction! From the moment I recognized the Dominant walking across the parking lot to the restaurant, I was so enthralled that I was shocked and disbelieving when the Dominant mentioned during dinner that similar postings on Craigslist in advance of prior business trips seldom resulted in opportunities for dinners like the one we were sharing. I still find it incredible that the many submissives throughout the country have been and are unable to recognize and appreciate this Dominant's wealth of experience, talent and power. Those submissives are denying themselves the honor and privilege of meeting this Dominant, and perhaps even serving and submitting to, this Dominant. I am proud that, ignorant and untested as I was when I found this Dominant's posting, I did not react as those poor submissives have done who denied themselves such an opportunity and great experience. My first dinner with the Dominant was quiet and interesting, with a nearly imperceptible undertone of sexual tension under the "meeting a new person" chatter. When dinner concluded, I was asked to go to the ladies' room and remove my panties and bring them to the Dominant. The submissive self that I had stuffed away for decades again made itself known, causing me to immediately comply with the Dominant's request. When the Dominant, whilst standing in front of the restaurant, under a bright light, stretched my huge, white cotton "granny" panties out and felt and smelled the soaking wet crotch, my submissive self celebrated – knowing the Dominant it had sought for so long, had been found at last. After that first dinner, there were more telephone calls and e-mails, which the Dominant later called "setting the hook" so that the Dominant could "reel" me into the experience of submission. Difficult as it is for me to believe that the Dominant had any doubt of my interest, I had some difficulty admitting even to myself that I already knew that this Dominant offered my submissive self the equivalent of water for one dying of thirst. I did not dwell on the life-changing impact of my first meeting with the Dominant (especially the way in which I responded to the Dominant's instructions with absolute trust and no reservations), but I could not deny my near desperation for another opportunity to spend time with the Dominant whilst the opportunity was available. In addition to my personal and emotional desperation to find a means to channel and express my submissive nature, the fact that the Dominant was in my area only for a five day business trip, after which he would return to his home 700 miles distant from mine, increased the compulsion I had to seize the opportunity whilst it was available. To be honest, on some level I felt that, if the second meeting with the Dominant went badly, I could attribute the rejection I anticipated to the Dominant thinking a long distance D/s relationship would not be workable, rather than accepting my responsibility for being too fat, too old, too ignorant in submission or simply not acceptable to the Dominant. One of the hallmarks of my personality is that I usually can see many sides of an issue or circumstance. In this situation, that trait was heightened by the intensity of the desire I felt to finally be who I was, my expectation that I would not meet the Dominant's physical or submissive standards, and my fear that I would not be able to find a way to express my submission and desire to serve. With all these conflicts bouncing around in my head, the thought that the Dominant would very soon be more than 700 miles away was both comforting and daunting. Just three days after our initial dinner, the day of the second meeting finally – and oh, so quickly – arrived. E-mails with the Dominant's specific preferences had been received, read, digested, itemized, and followed. It was easy for me to focus on the things that needed to be done before I presented myself to the Dominant, rather than thinking about safety issues or even why it was impossible for me to imagine missing the opportunity to be in the presence of the Dominant I already longed to serve. I had learned from the Dominant's e-mails that the Dominant preferred me to be hairless from nose to toes. I spent more than an hour shaving all the usual places and, after first trimming the hair with scissors, my pubic area as well. It took a long time to shave, and re-shave, and re-shave, especially since there were parts of my pubic area I could not see because I was so overweight! But, even in my untried and inexperienced submission, I was happy to have that effort to make because I already realized that everything I was doing was in the Dominant's service. After visiting a couple of stores, I purchased jet-black pantyhose, and returned home to remove the crotch, as the Dominant preferred. On the day on which I was to meet the Dominant again, I also moved, in a torrential downpour of winter rain, into my new house! As a result, I was not able to locate my vegetable peeler to prepare the three carrots the Dominant had requested be brought to our meeting, but I brought the carrots to the hotel without peeling them. With almost all my worldly goods still in damp boxes placed throughout my house, I also was unable to locate my wooden clothespins, which the Dominant had requested be brought to the meeting as well, and I was unable to find any at the stores where I searched for pantyhose. The Dominant had requested that I bring along a blindfold as well. The fact that Valentine's Day was coming up made it possible for me to find and buy a blindfold (in hot pink leopard print!), and I was pleased at being able to accommodate the Dominant's request. Following e-mailed instructions, I drove to the hotel, found the Dominant's rental car and retrieved the key card for the Dominant's room. I took a deep breath, and entered the hotel via a side door to climb the flights of stairs to the Dominant's room. When I located the correct door, I used the key card and entered the Dominant's room. Looking back on this experience now, I marvel that I felt no panic, or fear or even simple anxiety. Whilst good common sense should have given me pause about going alone into the room of a man I had barely met, I felt nothing but the sense that I was finally coming home to the real person I was and I had denied for far too long. I had no sense of danger, only concern that, when the Dominant saw me naked, I would be rejected as too fat, too out-of-shape, and too old. Yet, even that concern, ingrained from years of rejection previously endured, was merely background noise, unrecognized in the triumphant chorus of all that was submissive within me at finally finding its voice and its life after years of solitude and silence. Once inside the Dominant's hotel room, as the Dominant preferred, I removed my clothing and in only my crotchless pantyhose and black pumps, I walked to the center of the room, my back to the door. En route, again as the Dominant requested, I laid out the carrots on the Dominant's bed. At the center of the room, I covered my eyes with the blindfold whilst standing with my feet shoulder-width apart, and then bent over at the waist to grasp my ankles with my hands. Even now, I do not know if seeing the Dominant seated at the desk, focused on his laptop, and apparently oblivious to my presence was helpful. I was too unskilled in submission to realize that my entry should have included my formal and respectful greeting to the Dominant by way of acknowledging the honor and privilege accorded me by allowing me to offer my submission and service. The Dominant's silence was disconcerting, but it also allowed me to focus on what I had been asked to do in order to comply with the Dominant's preferences. Soon after I was in position in the center of the room, I heard the unmistakable sound of separating Velcro, then immediately I felt straps binding my wrists and ankles together. Then there was the sound of vinyl gloves going on, followed by an intimate and detailed, but brief, inspection of my cunt and asshole. A couple of quick, but surprising, slaps to my ass helped center me and call my mind back from the hamster-wheel of thoughts and anxieties only to have it caught up in the whirlwind of the physical sensation of the slaps and the sexual excitement they created. With my head near the floor, the nervous anxiety and difficulty breathing caused me to faint. As I fell to the floor, the Velcro straps were pulled loose, and I ended up face down on the carpet, on my knees. After the Dominant assisted me to move to the room's sofa, where the Dominant allowed me to sit and recover my composure, the Dominant re-positioned me on my knees (set shoulder-width apart), with my fingers laced together and stacked behind my head. This of course positioned my arms out at shoulder height, elbows back, and breasts up and out for ease of the Dominant's access. Once I was in position, the Dominant inserted syringe points into my nipples and areolas. Blindfolded as I still was, I had no idea what the Dominant was doing – certainly, the idea of the Dominant piercing my nipples and breasts with syringe points never crossed my mind. Anesthetized by anxiety, yet excited by the fact that, however haltingly and uncertainly, I was embarking on the submission and service I had longed for, my only reaction to feeling the Dominant's hands and the syringe points on my breasts was the outpouring of sexual juice in my cunt. Yet another "virgin" threshold was crossed without much pain, with no fear, and without fanfare. The Dominant already knew that I desired and would accept pain, although this was information I had yet to learn or acknowledge to myself. The Dominant used the syringe points to test my reaction, my submission and my desires – and all I knew was that I was holding the position into which I had been placed, and that was the only concern I had. Again, although I was kneeling, nearly naked and now pierced, in a stranger's hotel room, the only sensation of fear of which I was aware was my extreme fear that I would fail and be found wanting, dismissed and sent away from the Dominant I already yearned to serve and learn from for a long time to come. When the syringe points were placed to the Dominant's satisfaction, the Dominant moved me over yet another "virgin" threshold. Whilst I maintained position with my hands still stacked behind my blindfolded head, elbows out, breasts (now decorated with syringe points) held out and available for inspection, the Dominant assisted me to stand up again, and the Dominant began taking digital photographs. The whine of the flash was unmistakable, even though I had never been digitally photographed before. The idea of having my body photographed, even in clothes, had never appealed to me, and yet my submission was demonstrated yet again -- my only reaction to the photographs being taken was to focus on holding position so that the images would be as clear as possible for the Dominant. After the photographs were taken, the Dominant removed my blindfold and requested that I dress (without looking at my breasts) so that we could go to dinner. The Dominant again instructed me to pull my panties tightly up into my cunt and ass. When I was dressed, the Dominant escorted me downstairs to his car, and we went to dinner in a local restaurant, a meal that appeared as normal and pedestrian as if the hour or so in the Dominant's room that preceded that dinner had never happened. We continued getting to know about each other's work and lives as if neither of us was thinking of the sexual juices soaking into the crotch of my panties. My insecurities were such that it never occurred to me that the Dominant gave a moment's thought to how the time I spent in Dominant's hotel room or even the pulling and rubbing of my panties in my crack was exciting my sexual urges and focusing my attention on my sopping wet cunt. But, although I did not imagine the Dominant was thinking of my arousal, my submissive self counted every drop of sexual juices into the fabric of my panties. Again, as dinner ended, the Dominant asked me to go to the ladies' room and remove my heels, pantyhose, and panties. The Dominant requested that I put my crotchless pantyhose and my heels back on, and place the panties, soaking wet crotch down, on my tongue. When that instruction was followed, I found that, despite having found some much smaller, black, nylon panties to wear for this second meeting, my mouth was completely filled with the panties to the point that swallowing my saliva was problematic. When I returned to our table, having acted on these requests, the Dominant politely asked that I open my mouth – demonstrating not only my compliance with the Dominant's requests but my willingness to do whatever the Dominant asked, despite any public embarrassment. After confirming my compliance, the Dominant escorted me back out to his rental car. Once inside the car, I was asked to strip down to pantyhose and pumps only. With my submissive self fully in the fore, non-compliance was not an option. I never considered refusal of the request or even thought much about the possible embarrassment of riding around mostly naked. When I removed my bra, some of the syringe points were lost, and I realized that the Dominant, lacking the clothespins that had been requested, had pierced my nipples with syringe points instead of clamping them. Even now, when my ego-driven public self looks back on that night, the only emotion I truly can recall at making that discovery was pride. I had been so aware of my lack of experience of service, the fact that all my submission to that point had been in my head, that knowing I had endured nipple and breast piercing without reaction or demurring made me know, as nothing else to that point had, that I was setting out on the path I was meant to travel. And, further demonstrating the correctness of my choices that night, even as I struggled to process the totally new experience of the breast piercings, my only reaction was to maintain my proud posture in the passenger seat -- legs apart and crotch open to the Dominant's fingers, which drove me to orgasm again and again. The drive continued for some time, moving further away from the Dominant's hotel, the car crossing the state line before heading back to the Dominant's hotel. I went from submissive "virgin" to being the Dominant's "two-state slut" in a single night! The future would allow me other opportunities to serve as the Dominant's slut in other states, but for the submissive "virgin" I was on that night, the taste of multi-state servitude was heady indeed! When we reached the hotel, the Dominant asked that I leave my outer clothing in the trunk of my car. After this was done, I entered the hotel through the main lobby, accompanied by the Dominant, dressed in only my pantyhose, my pumps, and my overcoat. Because I was accompanied by the Dominant, I was not nervous, much less embarrassed. My complete focus on the Dominant left no room to doubt the Dominant's care and protection. From the very earliest communications we shared, somehow I felt absolute trust and confidence in the Dominant. I did not believe the Dominant loved me – he didn't know me and, I was to learn, had no interest in loving anyone, much less a submissive – but I knew instinctively and absolutely that the Dominant would protect me. I have never had any doubt of the Dominant's dependability, honesty and trustworthiness. The Dominant may hurt me – emotionally, psychologically or physically – through error or deliberate act to satisfy my desire for pain and the Dominant's interest in observing it. But the Dominant will do everything possible to prevent my being hurt by anyone else. I depend on the Dominant to keep me safe, secure, and unharmed. I also depend on the Dominant for guidance as I grow in submission. The Dominant, whom I now am privileged and honored to address as "Sir," provides humor and relaxation. The Dominant encourages and informs. The Dominant sets the standard against which my submission is measured – no matter how I feel about any effort I make to submit or to serve, there is no surcease, no sense of accomplishment, no satisfaction without the Dominant's approval and feedback. Without the Dominant's instruction, my submission would be a voice crying in the desert, alone and ignored. The Dominant forms the framework of my submission; his Dominance is the canvas upon which my submission pours itself in free and open expression. The experience and talent the Dominant has in Dominance sometimes is sorely tested by my ignorance and unpracticed submission. And yet, the Dominant is kind enough to encourage me by pointing out that I am far from the virgin in submission who stepped outside her comfort zone a few short months ago to become the slut who now serves the Dominant in almost every way, and yet has many, many ways of service and submission yet to learn and experience. There are truisms -- that a woman cannot regain her virginity, that she cannot be a little bit pregnant. Equally true is that a submissive is a virgin until she embarks on the journey of service to a Dominant for the first time; and that submission demands total and constant dedication or it is not submission. I learned these facts by losing the "virginity" of being a submissive without a Dominant. I still expand my knowledge of the demands of submission, for I have attempted to serve without relinquishing all of the self that existed before submission began. I know that the Dominant's standards for submissive service are still as far beyond my current level of development as I am advanced from where I started nine months ago. I understand that giving the Dominant less than everything – all I have, all I dream, all I hope and all I am – is the antithesis of service and submission. And so, despite the long-ago initiation into sex, and even the fairly recent discovery of life as a submissive, I am a virgin for the third – and possibly last – time, because I know my service to the Dominant now demands that I give everything over to the Dominant's control. I struggle to place my sense of self, my ego, my choices, my attempts to control my life, and my ideas fully into the Dominant's keeping, whilst having to continue managing all those things in my professional life, my family life, my home ownership, and my pet ownership. It is a difficult balance to reach, and one that I have yet to perfect, despite long and torturous struggles to achieve it. Like a Virgin -- But Not Submission means that everything goes into the Dominant's keeping. I already know the Dominant will guard all that is of value, and help me discard the empty baggage of past failures and disappointments. Each day, in every way, I progress toward the best submission I can offer, knowing that the Dominant supports my efforts, guides my steps and leads me where the lessons I need may be found. It is not easy for me to let go, to stop being independent, in-charge and ego-driven, and in fact I have to keep those aspects of my personality for use in professional and other settings in which submission is not appropriate. Learning to be able to shed the persona that still has control, still is assertive and still acts independently in order to reveal and revel in my true submissive self is more difficult than I had any way of knowing, and even harder to explain to the Dominant I desire, yearn and strive to serve. Despite the difficulty of that struggle, because selfless, open and willing service and submission is what I crave, I will continue working toward the elusive, impossible goal of serving and submitting fully and completely, for the Dominant I desperately desire, yearn, wish, and love to serve deserves that, my best effort. The Dominant prunes and trains me into my essential self that exists to serve, and that, like the Dominant it serves, never will be satisfied with less than a full effort to reduce everything to the guiding principle that the Dominant is first, the Dominant is last, the Dominant is the only -- the Dominant is everything in my life! My submission to this Dominant defines me; my service to the Dominant guides how I live my life. The Dominant provides the framework for my understanding of who I am and how I live. I am not the submissive the Dominant deserves – but I am the submissive the Dominant is training and guiding to become that. I acknowledge my many failures and shortcomings, but I do not dwell on them. That acknowledgement, and the ability to perceive those failings as the stepping-stones bringing me closer to perfecting submission to the Dominant I wish to serve, are gifts of my submission to this Dominant. Before I gained the honor and privilege of the service I now work so hard to offer and improve, I failed seldom and dwelt on those failures interminably. The acceptance of failure, and the benefits it provides, has been a major component of my submissive instruction and learning. It is a skill that I will continue to develop as I am privileged and honored to serve this Dominant or any Dominant to whom I dedicate my submission. Whilst my submission sometimes may fall short of my goals and the Dominant's preferences, I am happy and proud in my service, for even my failures show how far I have progressed, and how I can make my submission better in the future. Another enhancement of my service and submission to the Dominant comes from the loss of another type of virginity – an emotional virginity untouched by past romantic relationships, despite my former belief that they involved complete and consuming love for my partner. What I had not realized before I met the Dominant was that my past relationships with men always ended badly because they were doomed before they began. As a bookish, smart, overweight, and impatient teenager, then young and older woman, I had not had a great deal experience with men in the past. One of the most consistent traits of my personality is consistency and loyalty. The proof of that is that, although my first relationship only lasted four years – at which time my partner admitted he was gay -- my second lasted 25 years. I devoted 25 years of my life (from age 23 to 48) to a married man who was 25 years older than me. For most of our relationship, he lived at least 500 miles away from me. He was passive, demanding constant reassurance of my devotion whilst reiterating that he could never love me, and emotionally abusive. Perhaps the secret part of me that needed pain almost as much as it needed the submission I denied it was being fed by the many times he insulted and used me, the ways he made it clear that I was not worthy of him, and the cavalier manner in which he accepted my efforts to make his life better without appreciation or even acknowledgment. When I finally broke free of that relationship, I lived a life without romantic or even sexual relationships for a few years, but finally became involved with yet another submissive pretending to be a Dominant long enough to get me committed to marry him, and to have me relocate to his town, which was several hundred miles away. I finally escaped that relationship, only to rebound into another version of it – sexual involvement with a man who acted as if he were dominant, but who only wanted the service a submissive could offer, and had nothing dominant within him with which to give that submissive what she needed. Other than those relationships, my sexual experience had been limited to couple of literal one-night stands I had stumbled into and right back out of, unfulfilled and uninterested in pursuing a relationship with those men. None of the men with whom I had relationships in the past are Dominants. They had no understanding or even recognition of the submissive I am, although they were happy to accept many of the services provided through the expression of my submissive nature. They provided no Dominance in response to the services I delivered, so the submissive acts I performed were cheapened and became onerous. Those men had nothing to offer my submissive self, and that self, despite being pushed aside and chained deep in my subconscious, demanded to be fed and guided into its fullest possible existence. When my "virgin" submissive responded to this Dominant's posting, I did not know how many life changes would result from my response to his posting. The things that have unfolded, and continue to reveal themselves, opened the door to a new life of submission and service to this Dominant. On some level, I expected and sought that result. What I had no idea would happen, but was thrilled to realize, was that the choice to answer the posting also gave birth to a love that resonates throughout my being. I not only serve the Dominant, but I love him deeply and unreservedly, in ways I never knew before and never realized existed. In yet another area of my life, the Dominant has taught me things and offered me experiences I never dreamed of having. The Dominant that I am now privileged and honored to serve shows me what love can really be. This Dominant accepts and refines the service and submission my love motivates me to offer. In this, as in so many ways, I am the most fortunate of submissives. I have found the Dominant I was meant to serve, and that I yearn to serve. This Dominant accepts and empowers my submission and love whilst helping me refine and expand both. This Dominant accepts my love and dedication, knowing they provide the foundation for my submission, giving the Dominant a place to express and explore his Dominance. This Dominant has never pretended that this Dominant loves me, nor has this Dominant even held out a hope that such a love will ever come. But my experience has been that talk of love is easy – all the men in my past, at one time or another, offered me the words. This Dominant offers me the opportunity to be truly, wholly and completely who I am – and that feels more like love to me than anything I had experienced before. The desire to serve and submit is heartfelt and deep. The love I feel for the Dominant powers my submission and service, motivates me to improve and comforts me when the knowledge that I will never be worthy presses down on me, burdening me with remembrance of my shortcomings and failures. The Dominant understands my essential being, and my yearning to serve. The Dominant anticipates my stumbles along the path of submission, and finds ways to use those difficulties to enhance my love and dedication to the Dominant. The Dominant never takes advantage of me, despite my inexperience and failings, but uses both to my advantage, guiding my development into the best submissive I can possibly be, and training me to allow my essential submissive self its fullest and most complete expression. The Dominant's ability to do all these things makes it easy to believe that, as the Dominant says, the relationship between this formerly "virgin" submissive and the Dominant was "just meant to be"! Like A Virgin Her tongue lapped at his cock, lips locked around it at the base. She twirled her tongue around it, poking at the hole at the end, and sucking off the cum. With his hand still in her hair he moved her up and down, relishing in the post-sex blowjob. Within no time he could feel himself getting hard again. "Tell me, slut," he said, enjoying the flinch she gave at the word, "how many guys have you sucked after sex?" Vickie shook her head around his cock. "None?" he asked, mockingly. "I wonder what else you're inexperienced with." He could feel Vickie stiffening, trying to pull back. Kyle pulled her head away from his crotch and rolled off the bed. He shed his pants, now, bare from the waist down, and moved behind her again. "Please," whimpered Vickie. "Fuck me. I need you." Kyle grinned, taking her hips in his hands again and pulling her back towards him. Her bottom writhed in front of him, the redness from her whipping faded. His cock was growing again, pulsing again, blood pumping through him fast as he looked down at Vickie's needy body. "You want me to fuck you?" he teased, rubbing the head of his cock against her sloppy slit. She moaned and pushed back, but he was quicker, pulling away before she could trap him with her pussy. "Please, please, please," she whimpered. "How did it feel to lie to me all those months?" Kyle said softly, running his cock between her legs. "How do you think I felt when I found out that you'd lied?" Vickie whimpered against the bed. "Do you want to make it up to me, baby?" "Yes, I will make it up to you," she said, pushing her hips towards him again. "Yes," Kyle smiled. "I think that you will." Kyle's hands moved down to her bottom, stroking the skin gently with his fingers. Slowly he spread the cheeks apart, looking at her widespread nether lips, and the tight dark hole of her anus. "I wonder what else you're inexperienced in," he mused, moving a finger between her cheeks, touching the small hole. Vickie's hips struggled to move away, but his other hand teased her clit, causing her to stay still. She wanted his touch, even if it was accompanied by the humiliation of having him touch where a man had never touched before. Kyle's dick throbbed, anticipating the next step. Rubbing his cock in her juices and then up to her tight hole, he lubricated her with her own fluids. Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the first painful thrust. Slowly, sparing her the bulk of the pain, Kyle nudged himself into the tight confines of her ass, pushing past the tight ring until his head was buried inside her. She was deliciously tight, and despite the pain he knew he was causing her, she was crying out in pleasure with each inch he gained. He didn't push himself in all the way. He didn't have the heart. He sat still inside her, waiting for her body to accept him, and then pulled out and slowly pushed in again. She shuddered below him, her flesh quivering as he took her in an all-new humiliating way. She was enjoying it, and he was enjoying her pleasure, even though the feel of the tight flesh around him almost took away his pleasure. His hand slipped down to her wet slit, finding her swollen clit and rubbing it gently. It was as though the one touch caused her to topple over the edge. Crying out, moaning in pleasure, writhing around him, she came again. Her orgasm seemed to suck him inside of her, his cock lost in her ass as she clenched around him, squeezing tight. He didn't cum with her this time, but his pleasure was great as she shuddered around him. When her body calmed down, he pulled out, bent down, and unbound her legs. When her legs were freed, he moved to the tie around her wrists, working the knot easily and releasing her sore arms. Vickie resembled a rag-doll, panting against the blankets, too worn out to move a muscle. Kyle swooped down and took his bride in his arms, gathering her towards him and kissing her tear-stained cheeks. "I've never experienced anything like that, Vickie," he breathed into her ear, nibbling it once again. She moaned softly, resting her cheek against his shoulder, and offered no resistance as he carried her into the bathroom. He ran a shower and took her inside with him, washing her body from head to toe. She let him dry her like a baby and carry her back to the bed, laying her down and climbing under the blankets with her. Holding her in his arms, he whispered loving words into her ear as she fell asleep. "I'm sorry I lied to you," she said, her voice soft and barely audible. "I know." "I'll do anything to stay with you, Kyle." "I'm sure we can work something out." They fell asleep in each others arms, clinging together, content.