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Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END

My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without much to do besides watching TV or catching the basketball games on the radio. So when rush hour hit, I headed to a nearby bar and sat at the rail to check out the traffic, ordering a gin and tonic to pass the time. It was an upscale crowd – yuppies, business men like myself, you know the type. As I swiveled my barstool around, getting a quick 360 of the clientele, I realized there was a woman sitting next to me. A good- looking brunette in a well-tailored business suit. And unless I was very much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye. I turned around, and she was there all right, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite fathom. “Rough day?,” she asked, and I relaxed and moved into the “office work” routine with half my mind while the other half tried to figure what she was looking for. She was friendly enough, and I tuned back into our discussion just in time to hear myself recommend a little Chinese place for dinner. We ate at Yank Soo’s in one of the booths overlooking the river. Separate checks, of course., She told me about life in the field of accounting and how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a male- dominated area. We talked about college and career, and found a mutual interest in old jazz. Turns out she had some early Blue Note disks I had been looking for years, so I asked about taping them for my collection and she invited me to come over and give them a listen first. Her “little place” was a Victorian brownstone in one of the more expensive neighborhoods. I pulled into the second bay of the two-car garage since it looked like rain. She showed me into the music room as she went to fix something to drink. I was impressed – her jazz collection was something incredible, from rare Bird to just about every Monk album ever released. I found the records we had discussed and put one on the turntable, then sat on the couch and listened. Cool, sweet, jazz – I closed my eyes and drank in the sound. At some point in the first track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped as I listened. The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to see her beside me on the couch. Somehow, taking her in my arms was the easiest thing to do, and when the second track began we just naturally rose to start dancing. Her hands drifted down to the base of my spine, and I became aware of the points of her breasts through the silk blouse she wore. We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving her hips back into mine. I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh as she leaned into me. She turned around, and as our dance went on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket. Next to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next solo with her hands inside the back of my pants.sex photos“Come upstairs,” she breathed, running one hand between my legs, and I didn’t have the will to resist her. She unfastened my pants there in the music room, leaving me in shorts alone, took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming over her back and down farther. She led me up the stairs, one hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom. There was a large bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs, and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a fur seat by a curtained wall. She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples into proud erection. “Kiss me,” she said, offering a ripe tit, and I cooperated, drawing it into my mouth with lips and tongue. “Harder,” she moaned, and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it become stiff and swollen. She pulled away, then offered the other breast for the same treatment. Then she pulled away this time, her face – indeed her whole upper body – was flushed. She beckoned with one finger, and I came to her to slip her skirt off, revealing a black pair of crotchless panties. I slipped a finger between her thighs, finding that she was already warm and wet. She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing the bench and wall as she dragged my shorts down, my penis spring free to smack audibly against my belly. I felt her hands move down my legs, and then a clicking sound. I looked down to realize that she had just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my ankles and snapped them to the bottom legs of the bench. She pushed me forward, and as I fell she grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them similarly to the other end. I began to appreciate the design of the bench in a different light now. The seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just above my waist, then the bench legs went out at an angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly button to mid-thigh. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could still smell her private aroma, and that maintained my flagging erection. She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already gathered there. As she slid forward, I stretched my tongue out to meet her, finding her hot and wet inside. She gripped my head as I kissed and licked, and ran trails with her nails around my ears, the back of my neck, my armpits, each nail leaving a trace I could feel as clearly as reading a map. I felt something toying with the head of my penis — she had stretched her legs and gripped me with her toes. Now she pulled slightly away from my face, and I had to stretch my head and tongue to reach her, as she braced her hands on my shoulders and began working me with her feet. I could not hold off, but as I began to shoot I felt her begin her own spasms around my tongue. She bent her knee, bringing one foot onto the stool, her toes between my face and her pussy. “Suck,” she commanded, and despite some misgivings I did, mingling the acrid taste of my own fluid with the heavy smell of her juices. She buried my face inside her pussy again, and I licked and nibbled until she was satisfied. She arose, moving to my nether end, and I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a vibrator moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my cheeks. She parted my cheeks and I felt her finger work its way into the opening there, moving in and out until I relaxed. Then her finger was replaced by something thicker that went in until my muscles clamped around a narrow portion. She ran the vibrator over the end of the plug, and the sensation was so intense, that to my surprise I found myself becoming erect again. She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped me to stand erect, taking me in a full body kiss, tongues fighting for space, then sliding slowly down my body to taste and tease my nipples as I cupped and squeezed her full breasts. Each move I made caused the plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk against her. “Poor baby, we’ve been neglecting you,” she said, and sank to her knees to engulf me in the moist cavern of her mouth. I closed my eyes and stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked their magic on me, all the while her fingers were pinching, caressing and stroking my thighs, cheeks, genitals. My breath was coming ragged as she held me on the edge of erupting.pornShe pulled away, holding me in her hand as she led me to a curtained wall, then drew the curtain aside to reveal a large metal frame with D-rings at the corners. She backed me up and attached my feet to the corners, spreading my legs to do so, then kissed and licked her way up my body, finally lifting my arms and hooking their cuffs to the top corners of the frame. By now she was riding on top of me, rubbing her labia around my aching member, her breasts hot against my chest. She moved her head down to kiss and worry my nipple, then made me gasp as she clipped something to it. She repeated the treatment on my other nipple, then slid down and wrapped her breasts around my erection, bring it up harder (if possible). Now she attached some sort of clamp to the skin just below the head, with a weight attached to the clamp. The weight magnified every movement I make. As she stepped away from the frame, my attention wavered between the growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of the anal plug, and the self-jerking action of my cock. Her face was radiant as she watched me quiver. She asked me, “What would you like first?,” but I could not give her an answer. Remove the clips? Take me into her mouth? Unhook my arms? She chuckled at my indecision, then went to the side of the frame, unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now perpendicular to the wall. “You’ll like this, I think” she said, scraping her nails up my ass cheeks, wiggling the plug to draw a low moan from me. She took the weight and fastened it to the anal plug, so every motion I made was now reflected. I heard her step away, then I could not hear her at all. My nipples felt on fire, and all the squirming I could manage in that frame would not budge them. But all that movement did shake the weight and move the plug, making my aching erection harder. Where did she go? I began to worry how long she was going to leave me and finally yelled “Hello? Where are you?” I got my answer as my ass exploded in pain. Whack! Whack! She had re-entered the room quietly and now was strapping my ass. I cried out from the shock, her only response more laughter. Every jolt of the strap seemed to run from the base of my ass cheeks to the head of my erection. When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked her in relief, asking what she wanted from me. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?,” she answered, “Oh, silly me, you have all these tight muscles that need to be loosened.” She began stroking my ass, her palms cool relief against my abused flesh. She started moving the anal plug in and out, fucking my ass with it while the attached weight pulled my cock up and down in return. The sensations finally overwhelmed me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I came, long and hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers continuing to move until I was slumped boneless in the frame. I barely whimpered at the pain when she removed the clips, then released me from the frame. Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed – she had done so already and had coffee brewing down in the kitchen. We shared a cup together in silence. As I got up to leave, she said “We really must get together again.” The thought was tempting, but thinking of my wife, I declined. “No, I really think we must” she said more firmly, and handed me a photograph. I hadn’t noticed a camera at the time, but the photograph was clearly recognizable as me, naked in the frame, nipples clipped, face locked in a rictus of pleasure, strands of semen flying in the air. “I have your number,” she said as I left. I think she does.

In a house with eight kids it’s hard to find time alone. Heck, it’s impossible. It’s hard enough just to…

Part 1 – An Acquired Taste “So, honey, what did ya get me for my birthday this year?” Smiling, my…

Pete had been friends with Steve since he had first graduated from college and gotten his first job. He remembered meeting Steve at his orientation to the company by the Human Resources Dept. Steve was one of the salesman who sold software for the company and was going to be a mentor to Pete as he started working also in sales for Eros. Pete was new to the city of Charleston, WV. In fact, he had just moved there from his home in Columbus, Ohio. Pete really wanted to get into writing his own programs as well as doing computer programming and architecture for businesses. The sales job was a way of working himself into the company. Hell, it was a recession and he was glad to have any type of job! Pete and Steve really hit it off. Steve was able to help Pete find out his way around town, set him up with an apartment, and show him both the highs and lows of Charleston, WV. Pete especially liked the lows that Steve had showed him– the strip bars, the adult bookstores and even a place that had a live sex show. One time Pete told a stripper that Steve was the person with all the money and that she should ask him for the money for a dance. Yes, getting financially started was a hard thing to do in a new city. It was quite a dance at that – as she spread her legs wide exposing her nude vagina several drops of moisture dripped down her slit and disappeared onto the floor below. This was the first of many trips to the adult entertainment places in Charleston. Steve was married to a beautiful women named Sasha who was 30 years old. The first time Pete saw Sasha was a reflection in a mirror in the hallway at their house. Sasha was 5’6″ with dark jet black hair cut in a way that made her look very tom boyish. Her figure was anything but tom boyish with well developed breasts, a tight rounded butt, and a slim waistline. Pete often wondered what she looked like beneath her clothes. Sasha was quite a contrast as far as looks– a tom boyish appearance with the body that any sculptor or painter would use for a model. Sasha greeted Pete with a warm handshake, hug, and greeting: “So your the new whiz kid whose out to conquer the sales world.” Her smile put him at ease. Pete thought how Steve was such a lucky bastard to have a woman like her. Pete advanced quickly in the company. He was soon named vice-president of sales. Pete then developed several unique computer products. This propelled him into the highest levels of management as well as made him very wealthy. Steve on the other hand had a tide of misfortune and his sales plummeted. Steve then began to drink. Pete ran into Sasha at the car repair shop. She was had been crying to herself. Evidently, her car needed repaired and when it came time to pay the credit card had been rejected. Sasha didn’t even have a way home. Pete quickly paid for the car repair. Sasha promised to pay him back. Pete could only think how he wanted her to pay him back. Sasha showed up to Pete’s place a couple hours later. Her eyes were red. Evidently, it had been a very bad day since a number of creditors had been calling with threats to repossess their house and belongings. Steve had even spent Sasha’s private savings without her knowledge. She was destitute. Sasha asked Pete if she could borrow some money and that she would be “willing to do any maid service around the house to help out and that she would also get a job to pay him back.” Pete asked, “Are you really willing to be my paid maid? Would you take a job where all your debts could be paid off?” Sasha responded quizzically, “It sounds as though you have something in mind. I just thought I could clean your home and maybe do some cooking.” Pete replied, “I’ve always wanted you as a sex slave that would serve my needs.” Sasha eyes grew very wide and she gasped in shock. “I could never do that to Steve. I really still love him. I’ll never do that! Can’t you even help out your best friend?” Pete quietly stated, “I’ve always wanted you as my own private sex slave, Sasha. I’ve desired you more than any valuable painting or other work of art. The situation is just right for my desires.” “You evil bastard. I’d never do anything like that. I love Steve.” Sasha angrily left. An day later the phone rang. “Pete, the bank is going to repossess our home unless we can pay the mortgage. No one will lend us any more money. I’ll do as you ask,” as Sasha cried.hard sexI told her to come over so that we could make the necessary arrangements. I then arranged to take care of Sasha’s and Steve’s bills a little at a time. I had Sasha tell Steve that a rich relative was going to help her out. When Sasha reported to my house I had her stand in front of a mirror and slowly remove her clothes. The reflection in a mirror showed some deep, dark brown nipples about 3 inches in size that came to pointed tip. As she bent and removed her panties I saw hair that grew up from her slit to her ass with some large protruding vagina lips. Sasha’s ass was round, well defined but small. As she turned around I saw a fairly hairy bush. Sasha had tears rolling down her cheeks. I then had her walk to me and away from me. I told her, “Walk like you are a hooker out trying to get some business.” Sasha then walked very sexily around my living room. Sasha asked, “Do you have to take a video of me doing this?” I replied, “Yes, now let’s see how many ways I can see that vagina of yours.” I saw her pussy as she stood over me, as she lay on the couch with her legs spread, on all fours with her butt in the air. Sasha’s vagina was now moist and her inner/outer lips were puffy. I had her play with herself. Sasha moaned, “Oh I’m about to come, please fuck me Pete.” “Sasha I want you to stop playing with yourself, take out your diaphragm, and come over her and suck my cock.” (that was wild erect and dripping with precum). “Oh, Pete I will get pregnant if I don’t use some protection. I am really fertile right now.” I told her that if she couldn’t do what I asked then there would be no money. I watched as she split her vagina lips and was able to see the back wall of her cervix. I then had her get on all fours as I mounted her from behind. Sasha felt Steve enter her in one shove. She pushed back into him and felt the tip of his large 10 inch cock hitting her cervix. Sasha grasped briefly in pain as Pete’s dick penetrated her cervix but waves of orgasm swiftly overtook her as she felt Pete’s cock throbbing and pounding her vagina. Pete soon shot his load deep inside her fertile womb. She then sucked him hard again. This time Pete took her with Sasha’s legs over his shoulders. Again, Pete emptied his sperm deep inside her womb. Pete had Sasha hold her legs up so that none of his sperm would leak out. Pete wanted to be sure to make her pregnant. Over the next several weeks Pete stuck his huge cock into Sasha and shot as much sperm into her as possible from as many different positions but always with one intent — to get Sasha pregnant. Sasha’s missed her next monthly period. When she did a pregnancy test it came out positive. Pete still had Sasha coming over to his to perform “housework” even though she was pregnant. Sasha’s nipples grew darker, larger, and became very sensitive. When Pete would suck on her luscious pointed pregnant breast she would squirt milk into his mouth and dose his cock with her vaginal juices as she repeatedly orgasmed. Sasha was hoping that her ordeal would soon be over even though she had signed a contract that would last several years. Her hopes where soon dashed when she heard Pete talking about her doing a gangbang with some well endowed black men after she had his baby. She shuttered when he asked if she “Would like to have a black baby?” Sasha’s maid service was only the beginning to satisfying Pete’s appetites.

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that…

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END

My name is Melanie Stuart, Mel to anyone who really knows me. This story hinges on a problem I have had since age twelve. I am told it is a serious one, at least that’s what all the doctors and talk show hosts say. It may seem very distasteful or even quite disgusting to many that read this story. For this I am sorry, but if I am to be honest I must tell it as it really happened.I guess my problem or illness started when I was in gymnastics. I was a good gymnast and trained four hours a day with dreams of going to the Olympics. Being a gymnast I had to watch my weight and like many of my teammates developed an eating disorder. Yes, I was bulimic. I’d go on binges eating everything in sight and then make myself throw up. My teammates and I used to have bingeing parties eating whole bags of chips and cookies and then watch each other puke it all up. We thought it was cool, but also knew it was wrong and dangerous so we kept it secret from everyone outside our little cliche.An injury ended my gymnastics career just before I turned fourteen. I left the sport with a tight, under-developed (for my age) gymnast body and of course my dark secret, bulimia. During the next few years my body began to change rapidly and by the time I turned sixteen I was no longer that cute little flat gymnast. Though still somewhat petite at 5’2,” I was now a 34C and had sprouted 37 inch hips and full round buttocks while keeping a 25 inch waist. My legs, though they had lost some of the muscle tone I had had while competing, were still very strong and shapely.In high school guys showed a lot of interest in me. I have to admit that I certainly went out of my way to encourage them. I dated often and figured out what boys wanted very quickly. I lost my virginity my sophomore year and never looked back.Though I guess I had an alright body I was still bulimic and constantly struggled, usually unsuccessfully, with the temptation to binge and purge. I kept it a secret from everyone until I met Mike.Mike and I met my Freshman year in college shortly after I turned eighteen. He was twenty-seven, a grad student at the university and, I might add, gorgeous, 6’2″ and about 180lbs with beautiful blue eyes. I was in love the moment I met him. We started dating and it soon led to me spending a lot of nights at his apartment. I loved it, but sometimes when we had gone out for dinner and I had eaten a lot I felt the compulsion to purge. Sometimes when the urge became too much for me I’d wait until he fell asleep and then sneak to the bathroom and make myself barf. I did this a few times and he never seemed the wiser, at least that was what I thought.I guess I hadn’t been careful enough because one night as I was sticking my fingers down my throat the bathroom door flew open. The next thing I knew Mike was standing over me with a look of shock on his face as I quickly pulled my hand away from my mouth. I was mortified.“So, what’s the matter Mel?” he asked still staring at me huddled by the toilet in a t shirt and panties, my face flushed in panic.“I, I wasn’t feeling well,” I lied though it was at least partially true.“Why the fingers down the throat then?” he asked suspiciously as he leaned against the sink in his underwear…I hesitated a few anxious moments diverting my eyes guiltily from him… Unable to look at him I just stared at the floor anxiously, “I thought it would help,” I whimpered.“You seem to have this problem a lot. I suspect there is more to this,” he said accusingly.I sat there on the cold tile floor leaning against the toilet dumbfounded. “He Knows,” I screamed inside. Tears began to flow down my cheeks as I looked up at him, “Please don’t be mad,” I cried.As tears streamed down my face he knelt down next to me and took me in his arms. At first I didn’t even notice this understanding gesture as I became consumed in the embarrassment and humiliation that he now knew my dark secret.“Mel, it’s ok. I understand,” he whispered as he comforted me in his arms.I raised my head and looked through my puffy tearing eyes at the sincerely concerned expression on his face. His reaction surprised me. “You don’t think I’m disgusting?” I asked between sniffles.“No honey, I don’t,” he said smiling as he wiped the tears from my cheek.“I love you so much,” I cried wrapping my arms around his neck.Our lips met in a soft, beautiful union. It was quite honestly the most romantic kiss I had ever experienced despite the fact that we were leaning against the toilet. I was in heaven and opened my mouth as his tongue played lovingly with mine.While I sucked on his tongue he slipped his hand under my shirt and began to caress my soft, pliable breasts. His touch excited me so much and I held tightly to his neck with one hand as I ran my other hand over his broad muscular back welcoming his need for me.For a few minutes we were lost in an embrace that I hoped would never end, but then he pulled away and just peered into my red swollen eyes questioningly.“What?” I asked somewhat defensively.“Nothing,” he assured me still looking at me strangely.“What??” I asked again anxiously frustrated with his evasiveness. “You still want to do it, don’t you?” he probed.“No, just forget it, OK,” I whined diverting my eyes from his embarrassing gaze.“Mel, it’s ok. If you want to go ahead, really, I don’t mind, really,” he insisted as he tried to lift my chin to look at him.His words to say the least shocked me and I immediately looked up at him. “What??” I asked surprised that he would actually encourage me to do such a thing.His expression puzzled me I was feeling such shame, so dirty and disgusting, but at that moment he was gazing at me with desire. “How could he want me?!” I thought to myself incredulously.Glancing down I could see the obvious lustful excitement protruding in his underwear. I was speechless.Before I could find my voice he grabbed me by my hips and lifted me onto my knees so that my face lay flush against the rim of the open toilet bowl. I placed my hand on the rim and raised my face off the cold porcelain as he positioned himself behind me.“Mike, what do you want?” I asked in confusion.“Take off the shirt,” he ordered sternly.His abrupt tone was not that of my lover, he was a stranger! I had never seen him like this before. I felt a chill rush through me as my queasy stomach knotted in fear. Submissively I raised up on my knees quickly pulling the t shirt over my head.Tossing it away I timidly peeked back over my shoulder. He just stared at me as if in a daze as he slipped his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly peeled them down over my wide hips. I watched him slip my panties over the ample, meaty globes of my ass and drag them to my knees.Feeling his hand cup my sex I turned my head back to face forward and shut my eyes as I nervously submitted to his probing fingers. My knees instinctively opened wider stretching taut the elastic of my little panties. I felt so vulnerable, so defenseless at that moment, my guilt ridden mind telling me that I had no right to object no matter what he did to me. .“OOOHH,” I yelped, my eyes agape in fearful shock as my panties cut into my flesh and were ripped from my legs.For an instant his unexpected brutality left me trembling, my heart pounding in my chest, however my fear soon dissipated as two fingers worked their way into my dripping pussy. As the long thick digits began to finger fuck my wet cunt I brazenly arched my back and began to grind my crotch madly against his hand.“Oh Mike, yeah fuck me,” I whimpered.Seconds later Mike crammed a third finger into my hole stretching it wide. As he continued to fuck me his thumb seemed to be spanking my distended clit with each thrust of his hand. Lost in a masochistic haze of excruciating pleasure I spread my legs obscenely to allow him to plunge his fingers deeper into my sopping cunt. I clawed at the cold, hard rim of the open toilet, his fist slamming into my crotch incessantly, until my cunt jolted violently as I became overcome in orgasm.Mike’s fingers slipped from my oozing hole as I knelt panting breathlessly, my head hanging in the toilet with the ends of my shoulder length hair dipped in the clean clear water.Before I could move I felt his hard cock rubbing along my slit and I could feel my own arousal seeping from my pussy wetting his shaft… Coming down from my orgasm I began to feel the all too familiar cramping in my stomach. Though I felt uncomfortably bloated I wanted so much to please him and longed to feel him inside me.Gazing into the toilet water I waited anxiously for him to penetrate me. My confusion over what he had said was all but forgotten as I knelt there wiggling my fleshy ass pleadingly for him to fuck me.Finally his cock, wet with my juice, slowly slid into my hungry cunt and began a steady rhythm in and out as I moaned feeling another orgasm rising from deep in my full belly. My pussy involuntarily squeezed his beautiful prick as my pussy twinged. Tiny orgasms peaked and subsided as quickly as they came, but I wanted more and began to buck back against his rigid pistoning cock.“Do it for me Mel… Make yourself do it!” Mike exclaimed breathlessly as he rammed me from behind.“Do what?” I cried out in confusion.“I want you to make yourself do it, NOW!” he screamed as his big cock drove violently into me making my supple globes bellow from the force.“I, I can’t,” I whined suddenly realizing what he wanted me to do.“Yes you can, DO IT,” SMACK, he yelled striking my quivering ass cheek with the palm of his hand.I screamed in shock more than pain at the sudden stinging blow and grabbed the rim of the bowl with both hands in an attempt to move away from him. Mike held me firmly in place preventing me from escaping as the thrusts of his cock became much harder shoving me forward so that my head was completely over the bowl, my flopping tits banging heavily against the cold porcelain.“DO IT Mel,” SMACK – SMACK, he demanded as he again spanked me burning my sensitive fleshy ass.Mike pummeled my hot pussy relentlessly as tears fell from my cheeks rippling the still waters beneath me. Desperate to please him I reluctantly brought my fingers to my mouth. As my fingers reached my lips my mind blurred aware only of how much my bloated stomach and insatiable pussy craved release.“Oh Mike, oh God” I whimpered and then I jammed my fingers down my throat just as Mike was ramming his cock into me. My face contorted as I stared wide-eyed for the imminent carnage. I gagged violently and then suddenly I was puking into the bowl as I lunged involuntarily against the savage thrusts of Mike’s cock.Aroused and humiliated beyond reason I suddenly felt surges crashing in my cunt as I heaved one last time. Orgasms ripped through me as Mike grunted, gripping my hips tightly in his strong hands while his hot cum erupted deep in my clenching hole. Mike leaned over my sweaty back and kissed it lovingly as I gasped for breath staring at the string of spit and bile that extended from my lips to the cesspool below. I was still in a state of shock and had not yet begun to think rationally about what had just happened. At that moment I only felt relief, but the levels of that relief were not yet clear to me.Moments later Mike’s now softening manhood slipped from my sore, satiated pussy and he immediately pulled me off the toilet and swung me around to face him. When our eyes met embarrassment overwhelmed me as he gazed at my face, my eyes swollen and red, cheeks flushed and remnants of my purging still dripping from my lips and chin. To my shock he embraced me and drew me to him. I peered up at him confused that he was not repulsed by me. A strange almost mischievous smile grew on his face and then he kissed me passionately bathing his tongue in my defiled mouth. Breaking the kiss he cleaned my lips and chin with his tongue seemingly aroused by its fowl taste and stench. I watched in awe as he then took my hand and cleaned the very fingers I had only minutes before shoved down my throat. Without a word we stood up and I got in the shower as Mike flushed and cleansed the toilet bowl. He then joined me in the shower and we washed each other in utter silence. When we were done we toweled off and went to bed where I, exhausted and I guess somewhat in denial, fell asleep cradled in his strong arms…The next morning I awoke finding him already awake. His head was propped up in his hand and he had apparently been watching me sleep. “Good morning,” he whispered kissing my cheek tenderly. “How do you feel?” he asked with a concerned look.“I’m ok,” I answered hoarsely as the events of the previous evening flooded back. “I can’t believe we did that,” I said, my guilt intensifying with the graphic images of him fucking me like an animal as I made myself puke as I came on his cock.“You liked it though, didn’t you,” he smirked without hesitation.“Stop it,” I pleaded burying my face in the pillow remembering the intense orgasms I had had during the final dry heaves.My mind reeled with chaotic horror. I felt so dirty and disgusting. No normal person could ever understand what we had done. “How could I have done it- my God, how could he? Is he… are we that perverted?” I asked myself.As I began to cry Mike rolled over and got on top of me before I knew what was happening. His cock was already hard and as I pulled my pillow off my face he spread my limp legs and sunk his cock slowly into my surprisingly moist vagina. I stared up at him incensed that he would want to make love when I was feeling such anguish. Supported on elbows he stared at me lustfully. “YOU DID, you loved getting fucked while you puked your guts out,” he laughed.“NO, I didn…” my protest smothered by his lips.Suddenly I was consumed in the passion and force of his kiss and the tingling sensations his hard thrusts provoked. I ground my pelvis against his overwhelmed by my sudden hunger for him. He raised up and peered lustfully down at me as he pulled my knees up to my chest holding them captive with his strong arms.“I LOVED SEEING YOU PUKE – FUCKING YOU WITH YOUR FACE IN THE DIRTY TOILET,” he shouted as he drove deep into my defenseless cunt.“NO, OH GOD NO,” I screamed tearfully as I began to thrash about, my legs limply flailing in the air. My burning pussy began to betray me, acknowledging what I could not yet admit to myself. My darkest wanton desires seemed to fuel my arousal and suddenly surges of my orgasm began to grip my belly..“Fuck ME,” I cried, my eyes clenched shut as I became focused only on my imminent climax. Mike was an animal fucking me out of control forcing loud guttural grunts from us both each time he slammed into me. Suddenly it was there. “Oh, ohhh…” I cried as my hole constricted on his cock with crashing wavesMike rammed his cock into me for a few more seconds after my orgasms dwindled. I just lay there like a rag doll as he pumped his load into my happy pussy.We talked some afterwards about my bulimia and the events of the previous evening. Relieved that he was accepting of my illness I struggled to find some way of rationalizing what we had done. As we discussed it briefly we seemed to avoid, at least verbally, any condemnation of our perverse behavior. No matter how much I tried to deny the depravity of that night I would find myself drowning in guilt.I felt guilt on so many levels. I had always felt guilty about my bulimia, but now the fact that it had brought some twisted sexual gratification to both Mike and I appalled me. Over the next few days I tried desperately to convince myself that it had been a fluke thing brought on by our desire for each other and the shock we had both experienced when he had discovered my secret. I tried to rationalize that it had just been our unique way of dealing with it all, but his words kept haunting me. Every time I thought I had a handle on it I would relive that morning as he shouted those awful things as he fucked me, “You loved getting fucked while you puked” – “I loved watching you puke”. As his words echoed in my mind I felt so ashamed of how their perversity excited me. Each time my mind replayed that night in his bathroom I would find myself touching myself, my panties soaked with my juices.A few days later Mike suggested we go to the city and have dinner, maybe take in some clubs. I readily agreed knowing that we always had such fun when we went there. We made reservations at a little motel we had stayed at on previous trips. Mike preferred to stay overnight rather than driving the hour and a half back to campus after a night on the town drinking.Well, when we got to the city on Friday evening we weren’t really hungry so we took in a few clubs. It really was fun, we danced and drank up a storm till about midnight.When we left the last club we were famished and immediately found a cute little cafe to have dinner. I was so hungry and a little drunk so I didn’t realize how much food I ordered. When I was giving the waitress my order Mike seemed to be smirking at me. I realized that he was amused at what I was ordering and I just looked at him with a cutesy grin, “I’m hungry!” I said laughing. He just smiled and told me order whatever I wanted.I ate two appetizers, a big entry and even found a way to stuff a big slice of banana cream pie and some ice cream into me despite how gorged I felt. I’m not stupid – I knew I was bingeing, but in my somewhat drunken state I didn’t care.As we were paying the check I asked Mike to wait while I used the ladies room.“It’s not far to the motel – can you hold it?” he asked more like telling me than asking me.“Alright, let’s go,” I agreed reluctantly.He quickly paid the check and we left. I know he was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening having sex, but at that moment sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I felt so stuffed and sat uncomfortably in the passenger seat anxious to reach the motel and get it out of me.Upon reaching the motel I waited impatiently in the car as Mike checked us into our room. I felt horrible during those few minutes, my overstuffed stomach beginning to ache while struggling to hold my pee. I thought I would burst. As soon as we got in the room Mike made a dash for the bathroom. When I realized he was going to use the bathroom I tried to grab him. “I HAVE TO GO MIKE” I screamed.Ignoring me he quickly went inside and shut the door behind him as I stood outside squeezing my legs together in agony. “HURRY MIKE,” I pleaded.When he finally came out I was surprised to see that he was naked, but ignored it as I tried to get by him thankful I hadn’t peed in my pants. Just as I tried to negotiate around him he blocked the door. .“Get the fuck out of the way, I’m dying!” I cried in frustration as he just stood in the doorway smiling.“This isn’t funny – I’ve got to go,” I pleaded.“Don’t worry you’re going to go,” he laughed as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. I stared at the shower curtain he had in his hand in confusion. “What the hell are you doing with that?” I asked perplexed.“Mel take it and spread it out on the floor – I want to watch you pee on it,” he ordered holding the sheet of plastic out for me to take.“NO FUCKEN WAY,” I shouted indignantly assuming he was joking.“Well you can pee on the rug then, cause you’re not getting in here,” he said triumphantly.He stood in the doorway and crossed his arms in front of him, the curtain hanging from a fist, with a defiant look on his face. “You’re serious,” I exclaimed in disbelief.His face softened, his eyes almost pleading with me to cooperate. Please Mel, I really want this,” he said, his voice calm but firm.For a few moments I just stared at him dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe he was asking me to stand on a shower curtain and pee on it while he watched. Was he that perverted? In my wildest fantasies I had never conceived of such a thing. As I stood frozen unwilling to cooperate my bladder screamed for release quickly weakening my resolve.He stood in the doorway with an unyielding expression waiting for my inevitable submission. Realizing he was not going to let me in the bathroom I hesitantly extended my hand toward the plastic curtain in silent consent“Take off your clothes while I lay it out,” he instructed eagerly.Grimacing in disgust I went to the bed and with my back to him quickly removed my clothes desperate to pee regardless of where I did it. When I was naked I turned to face him. He already had the shower curtain laid out on the floor in front of the bathroom door and was now folding over the edges I suppose so that nothing would get on the carpet. Once he was done he stood back in the doorway and smiled mischievously.I had to pee so badly I quickly stepped onto the sheet of plastic and stood awkwardly in front of his lustful gaze unsure how I was to do it. I must have looked confused because he instructed me to spread my feet out and squat down. Exasperated I glared at him as I squatted down as he wished. .Suddenly feeling silly I nervously peeked up at him flashing him a weak smile embarrassed at how I must have appeared. I quickly diverted my attention from his eager eyes and stared down at my pussy, which was spread wide open.My bloated bladder needed no more inducement and after a couple of trickling squirts a torrid of hot piss began to pour from between my open legs. In the position I was in I could see and feel my urine splashing up wetting my ass and thighs as it flowed freely over my bare feet. Relieved as my bladder emptied on the floor I looked up at Mike and saw that he was stroking his erection as he stared wantonly at the spectacle before him.During those few seconds I watched him jerk off I began to feel a perverse excitement having done this for him. The idea of squatting naked in front of him and peeing on the floor was so taboo, so lewd, but suddenly I found it thrilling.As the stream dissipated he knelt down in front of me and took me into his arms. Dropping to my knees I returned his embrace as we kissed passionately kneeling in the warm puddle I had created for us.Reaching between us I took his rigid cock in my little hand and began to slowly stroke him just as I had watched him do to himself just moments before. Our lips parted and I watched as he immersed his hand in the puddle beside us and then raise the dripping fingers to his mouth. He gazed into my curious eyes as he extended his tongue licking my pee from them slowly. He seemed to savor the taste and licked all around each finger so not to miss a drop.If someone had told me that he would do this I’m sure I would have been grossed out. For some reason watching him taste my pee wasn’t disgusting, at that moment it was the most intensely erotic act I had ever seen.Suddenly he moved forward pushing me back onto my butt splashing pee up between my legs. My ass and thighs were covered with piss. Startled and instinctively repulsed I began to resist trying to get back on my knees, but he moved over me forcing me to lay back as he got between my legs. My god, I was laying in my own urine!“Oh Mike, God I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whispered excitedly as he nestled his rock hard cock in my wet pubic hair.“I’m going to fuck you in your pee,” he hissed as he aimed his cock at my soaked pussy.Laying flat on my back Mike embraced me as we began to fuck excitedly in the warm pungent liquid. I wiggled beneath him overwhelmed by the sensations of my body slipping and sliding as he ground me into the wet plastic with each thrust of his stiff cock.I loved it, but his weight on my full belly was becoming too much to bare. “Please Mike, get off my stomach,” I begged.Mike, realizing my problem, got up on his knees and with an evil smirk swung my leg over turning me onto my stomach. Before he had me turned completely I tried to get myself up on my knees, but I wasn’t quick enough. The maneuver had gotten my stomach, chest and tits covered in pee, but I was beyond caring.Feeling partial relief in my aching stomach I knelt before him on my hands and knees completely wet with urine anxious to feel him inside me again. I glanced back at him, my wet hair matted to the side of my face as he entered me from behind. His cock felt so good I couldn’t help grinding my ass back to meet his initial thrusts.“Mel, PUKE FOR ME,” he yelled as he rammed his cock deep into my hungry cunt.“Oh Mike, no…not here,” I begged breathlessly relishing the full feeling of his cock.WHACK “AAAAAHHH,” I cried out as his hand crashed against my ass. SMACK – SMACK – SMACK “AAAHHH, PLEASE NO…STOP OOOOOHHH,” I screamed, my heavy ass cheeks burning. “DO IT,” he demanded as he gripped the soft flesh of my hips as he rammed his cock into me savagely.Overwhelmed with lust and humiliation I bucked my stinging ass back to meet his thrusts. With urine spraying off my flopping tits onto my face I stared down at my hands gripping the wet plastic. I knew what I had to do, what I needed so desperately.Craving relief I brought my pee drenched hand to my mouth and jammed it to the back of my throat causing me to heave and cough as I pulled my hand out of my throat. The bitter sweet taste of my piss only seemed to excite me more and again I pushed my fingers deep into my throat. My whole body lurched and then heaved as vomit launched onto the plastic beneath me. As I continued to heave my cunt suddenly clenched, my whole body convulsing in release.Mike was beside himself fucking my hot, tingling pussy excitedly as I gazed through my tears at the horrible mess beneath me. Gasping for breath I tried to turn away, but suddenly he drove his weight forward forcing my arms to give way and I fell face first into the soupy pool of vomit and urine.He lay over me mashing my tits into the hot bile, chunks of undigested food biting into my nipples. Shutting my eyes I gripped handfuls of vomit and plastic in my fists, my chin plunged up to my lips in the wretched mixture. The stench burned into my nostrils as I struggled for breath, my body helplessly sliding around in the gooey slime, as his cock drove into me like a jackhammer. Thrashing my legs wildly my cunt suddenly convulsed again Spasms ignited deep in my hole and then exploded throughout my belly. “AAAHHH,” I moaned, my cry sticking inaudibly in my raw throat.My pussy grabbed and squeezed at Mike’s swelling cock and I could feel it throb in my hole ready to shoot. “OOOH SHIT,” he grunted and then his orgasm erupted blasting jets of hot cum into my clenching hole.When he was spent he rolled off of me onto his back. I turned towards him laying my head on his chest. For a few moments we laid there recovering, our bodies intertwined as we lay like pigs in the mire.Slowly he combed his dirty fingers through my disheveled matted hair prompting me to open my eyes and look at him. His expression seemed distressed, one of agonizing guilt or remorse. Without a word I leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s ok,” I whispered.“I love you Mel,” he whimpered.“I know,” I assured him.Pulling a few strands of dripping smelly hair behind my ear I leaned forward slowly. Our lips met and then parted as we gazed into each other’s eyes. I brought my lips to his once more. We kissed tenderly our tongues and lips hungrily consuming the residue of our love.

I tucked the present birthday inside the dresser drawer turned out the bedroom lights except for a single bedside lamp then looked at my watch. Pauline would be home any minute now so I better take my place in our walk in robe.I’d been planning this night for several months and I was getting a bit nervous as I looked at my watch again. I heard the car pull up into the garage. This was it. There was no turning back now.My hands were shaking as I heard them come in and walk down the hallway to the lounge room.There was laughter and muffled talk as I sat in the walk in robe and waited. The house went silent for a while and I started to worry because it had been almost an hour since they had arrived.I was just about ready to get up and see what was going on when there she was.My wife was being carried into the bedroom by my best friend Chris. She was giggling as he sat her down on the bed and my heart was already racing as I watched what was unfolding.Pauline was half naked and wearing only her white bra and knickers as she lay back flat on her back.Chris was holding up her leg and unfastening the buckle on her heels as she giggled and squirmed around on the bed.After removing her shoes, he took off his shirt and slipped out of his jeans and slid down onto the bed beside her, taking my wife into his arms. They embraced in a passionate kiss then he rolled over on top of her as slid her hand inside his underpants and grabbed his cock. They were still kissing as she pushed them down and away from her prize and then there it was! Chris’ cock. He was a bit bigger than I was and had trimmed his red pubic hair and completely shaved his balls. He was fully engorged, hard and ready for her.She began wanking him as they kissed and I could see the hunger in both of them as their tongues entwined and explored each other’s mouths.Chris broke away from her lips and slid down the bed towards her feet. He tugged at her knickers and my wife giggled as she raised her hips allowing him to pull them free. She then spread her legs and Chris’ head disappeared between them as he began licking and teasing her smoothly shaved pussy.anal sex storiesI was as hard as a rock and rubbed my cock through my pants while I watched my best friend eat her out.Pauline playfully pushed Chris onto his back and then climbed on top of him into a 69 position where I watched as my wife took his cock into her mouth and sucked and played with his balls for several minutes. Soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips as Chris reciprocated the gesture at the other end.He finally moved, and my wife turned and faced him straddling his legs. She arched up and reached behind her grabbing his cock and rubbing it along her wet slit a few times before positioning it at her soaking hole.She then slowly sunk down and engulfed his entire cock until he was completely inside her. She was grinning at him from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. I watched as she pressed her hands onto my best friends’ chest so she could control her movements as she stared grinding her hips back and forwards.Chris was now arching his legs up to keep Pauline impaled on his cock and the quiet sounds of her moans started filling the room along with the wet sucking sounds coming from her wet and very married pussy.They stayed like this for a while, in unison, just slowly moving together and enjoying the feel of each other.Every now and then my wife would lean down and they would kiss before sitting upright again to enjoy his full harness.Chris started to move and with removing his cock from her he guided Pauline over onto her back.He was now on top of her and his tempo began to pick up. He started to ram into her which made loud slapping sounds as he thrust harder and harder. The bed shook as he repeatedly drove her hips back into our marital mattress. I could hear Pauline telling him to fuck her and each time she said it he pumped her harder and harder. She threw her hand down between her legs and started hastily rubbing her clit while Chris kept ploughing into her.My wife’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut and her chest was now heaving erratically so I knew she was close to orgasm. She then tossed her head back and moaning loudly, she started to come.I watched as she shuddered and squirmed beneath him from the intensity of her orgasm as she drove her hips up hard against Chris. This sent my best friend over the edge and he grunted like a bear and drove my wife back into the mattress as his cock exploded inside her.Pauline locked her legs around him, pulling him in closer while Chris had buried his head between her head and shoulders. He grunted and twitched while his balls continued to empty into my wife. He slowly began to finish and with his now deflating cock still inside her, he lifted his head and they kissed. I had almost came in my pants watching this…watching my wife finish off my best friend….it was fucking amazing.They lay there for a while and I could hear them kissing and whispering and after about 10 minutes Chris got up and got dressed. Pauline put on her bathrobe and they walked to the front door. There was more whispering and kissing then I heard the door close.I came out of my hidey hole as my wife returned to the bedroom and she opened the front of her robe as she greeted me with a massive kiss. The smell of sex on her was overpowering.“Did you like your birthday present Babe?” I asked.She kissed me hard and passionately so I took that as a yes.“You know he’s going to want to come back for more don’t you?” she said to me.We stared at each other then she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs. I dived between them and she played with my hair as I pushed my face into her freshly fucked pussy. The unmistakable smell of semen greeted me and with both hands she held my head and moaned while I licked her clean.Pauline then helped me strip off and waited for me to mount her which I did straight away. My aching balls were ready to burst and as I started to fuck her, it didn’t take me very long at all before I shot my load into her.Minutes later we lay there side by side just basking in the afterglow of what had just happened.“Thanks babe” my wife said to me… “You know… He doesn’t just have to be a birthday present you know” she added cheekily.“No he doesn’t” I said. We cuddled there on the bed and drifted off into a deep sleep.