Smut Stories Blog » squirting

Sex at work

Administrator — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 16:16:35 +0000

I woke up around ten thursday morning with a terrific erection. Today was a
vacation day, and I was sleeping in, dreaming of Christy W—–. Reaching
behind me I picked up the phone, dialed work, and asked for her.

“This is Christy,” she answered.

“Hi Christy, Dave,” I said.

“Hi Dave. How you doing?”

“OK. Say, can you come to see me right now? I live about half a mile from
work.”

“What? Now? What for?”

“I just woke up, and I was dreaming about you. I’ve got something here for
you, and I’d love to see you,” I said.

There was a pause. “Well . . . I guess I can take an early lunch. Where do
you live?”

Giving her directions, I lay back down and waited.

Fifteen minutes later my bell rang. Pulling on a light robe, I went to the
door and opened it. Christy was there, and I let her in. My cock was hard,
and I was naked under my robe. Closing the door, I stepped back and opened
the robe.

“This is for you,” I said, as she stared in surprise, then hungrily, at my
stiff member. She reached her hands down and took hold of me as I pulled her
coat off, then began to unbutton her blouse while she rubbed my cock. We
kissed and my prick throbbed in her hands.

I unsnapped her jeans, tugging them down, then pushing her panties down around
her knees, and looked at her skinny body with it’s large muff and slim legs.
I pulled her down to the floor and gently urged her on her hands and knees.
Pulling her jeans and panties off her legs and tossing them aside, I put my
hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks and looking at her vaginal and anal
areas as she turned her head to watch me. Her pussy lips, framed in pubic
hair, looked huge in contrast to her skinny legs, and I could see that she had
experience with anal sex – her asshole was stretched, and had the telltale
signs of loose skin caused by the expanding of her rectum to accept either a
cock or some other tool.

Opening her ass wide, I brought my mouth to her anus as she moaned in
surprise. I jammed my tongue into her anal canal, frenching her bottom and
rimming her tasty butt as she squirmed under my hands.

“Oh my God . . . Ohhh . . . Ohhh . . .,” she groaned.

“Yes, Christy, I dreamed I did this to you,” I said, pushing my tongue deeper
up her skinny behind. “And then I dreamed I sunk my cock to the hilt up your
lovely rear end.”

“Oh David . . .” she breathed as I ate her bottom.

“Stay right here,” I said, standing up and going into the kitchen. She
watched me, on her hands and knees, bare butt in the air, still writhing from
the feel of my mouth and tongue on her sensitive anal area.

Opening the refrigerator I took out some butter, closing the door. Her eyes
glazed in erotic anticipation as she saw what I had. Kneeling behind her, I
opened the stick of butter. I pushed it’s square end against her anus, and
she whimpered as I twisted and turned it until it slipped past her sphincter
and into her rectum. Pushing harder, I forced it up her behind and began to
fuck her with it, as it melted from her anal heat. I pushed the short stick
all the way into her rear and held it, then took my hand away and watched as
she squeezed it back out, and it fell on the floor.

Figuring her bottom was sufficiently lubed, I moved my rigid prick up to her
buttery anus. As she watched, mouth open, I slowly, in one long thrust,
pushed my stiff cock all the way up her ass. She yelped and jumped as I
jabbed deep into her rectum, then began to slide her buttered butt around on
my cock, grinding down on it, urging it deeper. Beginning a steady rhythm I
pulled out almost all the way, then slowly slid back into her ass, repeating
this until we moved together as my cock reamed her butt.

Holding her tightly to me and putting my arm around her waist, I lifted her
up, and we stumbled to the couch where I sat down, Christy impaled on my
member, her back to me. She began to ride my cock now, and I watched as her
slim hips and ass rose up, then lowered onto my stiff pole, taking it’s entire
length up her behind and grinding down, hungry for even more.

She leaned back now and lifted her slender legs onto the coffee table, and I
pounded into her asshole, thrusting deep and hard now as I caressed her
breasts and thighs, then reaching to her pussy and rubbing her tiny, erect
clit. The wet sound of my cock plunging in and out of her open asshole added
to our excitement as her buns slammed down on my groin.

Pushing to the hilt up into her behind, I felt my prick spurt it’s hot load
into her bowels, as she ground her ass down on my ravaging cock. Pushing her
forward again, she leaned over the coffee table and my cock hammered in and
out of her, continuing to spurt. Suddenly I pulled out of her gaping asshole,
and I pulled her around to face me. I pushed my squirting prick between her
lips, jamming it’s full length down her throat as she gagged and choked on the
semen that flooded into her mouth.

We both fell asleep after that, having moved into my big bed. About an hour
later I awoke, and looked down at Christy’s long body. I pulled the sheet
back, and she was on her stomach, long legs open as she slept.

Reaching under the bed I grabbed my three dildos. I took the smaller one,
and, greasing it up in the Vaseline jar, slipped it between her buns and into
her ass, fucking it deeper and deeper. Miraculously she still slept, although
she moaned and squirmed as I gently used the dildo on her. Pulling it out, I
grabbed the next one, the one that looked like a human cock. Greasing it up
the same way I inserted in her behind, holding her cheeks apart. Slowly I
slid the rubber dildo into her rectum.
Christy woke up, feeling the dildo entering her rear, and she looked back at
me.

“Hold still, baby,” I told her as I fucked the rubber dick in and out of her
stretched rear hole. She moaned, swallowing the dildo with her ass, fucking
back on it, as I watched her slender tail accept the wide rubber cock.

Pulling this one out, I looked at her gaping rectum, which looked particularly
obscene surrounded by her slim cheeks. Now I grabbed the huge, black dildo.
Christy turned to look at me, eyes wide when she saw what I had.

“No, David, please . . .,” she whimpered, but I did not hear a sincere plea to
stop in her voice. Scooping out a big glob of Vaseline, I rubbed it on the
gigantic head of the black dildo. I placed this monster between her cheeks
and aimed it at her anus. It looked massive poised at the entrance to this
slender bottom. Pushing gently, I saw the dildo spread her anus, trying to
slide past her sphincter. It didn’t seem like it would fit, it was so big. I
pushed a little harder, and Christy whimpered as she tried to accept this
black monster up her butt. The head was halfway past her sphincter, but the
biggest part still had to go in.

“Relax, now, and pretend like you’re going to shit – push back,” I instructed
her.

Christy took a breath, then I felt her begin to push backward. The edges of
her anus flowered out around the dildo as she strained against it. Leaning
into it, I shoved the dildo forward, and all of a sudden the huge black head
slipped into her anus, her sphincter accepting the intruder and closing around
the base of the head. Christy yelped and shuddered, and I held still as I
looked at the wide black dildo buried in her behind, caressing her ass and
soothing her.

Pushing her legs further apart, I began to shove the big dildo into her rectum
again. Now it slid further in, very slowly, and Christy struggled and
squirmed as the monster slowly sank into her rear. I twisted and turned it as
I pushed, easing it in inch by inch, watching the wide black shaft stretching
her asshole open as it plunged up her small bottom. I began to fuck it in and
out now, and Christy began a low, continuous moan as her butt swallowed the
huge black rubber dick. Pulling out and thrusting in, her bottom was dragged
around by the motion as I pushed the dildo all the way into her ass. I could
not believe the sight of this 12″ long, 3″ wide rubber meat buried in her slim
behind.

“Unnnngggghhhh . . . ow OW OW . . . unnnnnhhhhghghgh” she grunted in pain and
pleasure, her butt stuffed full.

“Oh, Christy, the sight of this gigantic black dildo up your ass is making me
so hot I can’t stand it. You should see it, splitting your cheeks and filling
you up,” I told her. Her only response was a deep, animal moan.

I began vigorously fucking her with the dildo, pulling it’s length almost all
the way out, then shoving it all the way back in, repeating this over and
over, her slender bottom being pulled back and forth by the motion. She
yelped when I plunged it to the hilt up her rectum, and I left it there,
buried deep up her ass, and moved around the bed to face her. As I looked
back at the sight of the wide black dildo disappearing between her slim buns,
I pushed my erect cock into her gasping mouth. Reflexively, she began to suck
as I pushed my cock down her throat, and as I felt the warmth of her hot
throat grabbing my prick I immediately squirted my load into her mouth,
pumping in and out between her lips as my sperm flooded past her tonsils and
down into her throat.

Dull

Administrator — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 15:56:39 +0000

It was a cool gray, November afternoon. I was walking
down the quiet, suburban street I lived on, on the way to
Gloria’s house. It was fairly windy, a gust whipped up and I
had to reach down to hold my skirt. I suppose my modesty
wasn’t really in jeopardy but the skirt was considerably
shorter than what I was accustomed to wearing.
Gloria had asked me to assist her with a party she was
throwing for Dave’s boss. He had just started a new job she
really wanted to impress him. Part of his new
responsibilities included entertaining customers. She was
going to hire several college girls to serve food and drinks
but she suggested that maybe I would want to help and in
return she would forget the $65.00 I had borrowed earlier
that month. I readily agreed, the party sounded like fun.
Gloria thought about renting maids uniforms for us but
decided against it, she then asked us to all wear matching
skirts and blouses.
She had called me earlier in the week and told me that
mine was almost ready, I had gone over to her place to try
the skirt on. I was uncomfortable with how short it was but
she laughed it off, reminding me that I was about 20 years
behind the times. I didn’t want to appear too prudish, I
didn’t know any of these people and wouldn’t be the only
one dressed like this, besides it was no worse than what many
other women were wearing these days; so I agreed to wear it.
I had to admit the outfit didn’t look too bad on me, a red
and black checked skirt, white blouse, red scarf, black high
heels and suntan panty hose. It may have looked all right
but it wasn’t designed to protect me from the November gusts
I shivered and hurried along the sidewalk.
Gloria met me at the door, she laughed and asked me if it
was going to snow. We stood on the porch and discussed the
overcast weather for a moment, until she noticed me
shivering. We stepped inside to begin preparations for the
evening. Gloria was busy on the phone so I did most of the
straightening up, setting up the buffet, etc. About 5:00, a
pretty young girl came to the door wearing the same outfit I
was in. We introduced each other; Paula was to help me
serve. She seemed nice, pert, maybe a little impertinent but
friendly enough and I had to admit in that outfit with her
figure, she looked smashing. She told me she was a 19 year
old student at a nearby JC. I said goodbye to Pete and
Chris, Gloria’s kids, 16 and 14 respectively. They were
going to their own party that night, so they wouldn’t be
disturbed by ours. They were actually the reason for my
friendship with Gloria; Chris was my daughter Karen’s best
friend. And Pete was Karen’s boyfriend. He had always
scared me, I thought he might be too “mature” for her, but
what could I do?
Gloria came down about 7:30. Dave had just gotten home
and the guests had just started arriving. Mostly couples,
mid twenties to early forties, they were quite well dressed.
There were about 25 people in all, including Paula and I. I
was introduced to most of the guests and was flattered by the
interest all took in me although a little uncomfortable. The
women were less friendly, maybe even condescending. It seems
that Gloria had mentioned something about me to most of them.
I was involved in putting away the guests’ coats and serving
drinks. At one point I walked by the kitchen and heard
Gloria on the phone. Something caught my attention and I
froze, listening to the conversation……”36 years old,
married, 3 kids, 5′6″, 120lbs, green eyes, brown hair, has no
idea what’s going on. This bitch has never even thought
about anyone other than her husband.”
At that the party on the other end must have said
something, for Gloria was silent. I was dumbfounded, she
couldn’t be talking about me??
About this time she looked up and noticed me standing
there. She looked startled but recovered well, “what are you
doing? Dammit Joan this is personal I’d appreciate it
if”……..I turned and went back into the living room; the
incident seemed strange but I really didn’t think it was
important, I could confront her later. I didn’t think she
really had been talking about me.
I went into the living room, it was quite large, with a
fireplace in the center. They had used furniture to divide
it into two “rooms”; a family room and a more formal living
room. I went to the buffet table set up in the ajoining
dining room and started helping Paula serve. Occasionally
one of us would carry around a tray of drinks. I began to
feel slightly uncomfortable, out of place. There was an air
of excitement in the room but whenever I got near enough to a
group to hear or join in the conversation it seemed to die;
sudden pauses, pregnant silences etc. This happened several
times and I was wondering what was going on. Paula seemed to
fit right in though. When she brought around a tray I saw
her laughing with the main group. One of the men put his
arm around in a manner that suggested they had not just met.
Several of them including Paula looked over in my direction
as if appraising me, then Paula returned and offered to
relieve me for a while. This went on until about 9:30.
Dave came over and took my arm, “there’s someone I want
you to meet”. He introduced me to Craig, his boss, and Phil,
Gloria’s brother. Both men seemed seriously interested in my
life, my family, job etc. and were really probing me for
details. This seemed strange too but a welcome relief from
the alienation I had been feeling up to this point. I took a
glass of wine and began to loosen up.
About half an hour later Gloria gathered all the guests
back into the living room, saying “it’s time folks”.
Everyone seemed quite excited at this and I wondered, “what
in the world”………I was on my 2nd glass of wine, (I never
drink), and slightly lightheaded. Phil gently took it out of
my hands, took my arm firmly and guided me to the living
room. The chairs and couches had been rearranged in a semi
circle in front of the fireplace. In the center a long low
coffee table had been placed. The guests were seated or
standing around the table. Phil guided me to the front, I
was confused but held his arm. Gloria stood in front of the
table facing everyone.
“This is something I have been looking forward to for a
while. Joan has been interested in Indian rights for some
time. She doesn’t know it but tonight she is going to help
collect money for the cause”. There was a general outbreak of
laughter at that. I decided that I would prefer to be
standing in the back and started to move but found my arms
suddenly grabbed. I froze. “Bring her up here”, Gloria
commanded. Paula and Jan (a friend of mine from Garden Club)
each took one arm and pulled me up on the coffee table, I
resisted but not too hard, not knowing what was coming. I
was turned so that I faced the group, my arms still held, and
my hair wrapped around Paula’s hand, she forced my head so I
had to face the group.
Gloria smiled at me and told me to relax, “this won’t be
too bad we’re just going to auction off some clothing”. The
room erupted with laughter. I was numb, too shocked to
scream. Gloria stood next to the table “what do I hear for
her scarf?”; some one offered $1.00, another $2.00, the
bidding went up to $5.00. At that time Gloria accepted the
bid, and reached for me, ripping the scarf from around my
neck. I screamed, a hand was clamped around my face. The
scarf was forced into my mouth filling it completely and with
my arms held I couldn’t get it out. People started to sit
down, they all appeared to know what was going to happen.
“Next up, her blouse”. There was some cursory bidding,
Gloria backed up close to the table, I saw the opportunity
and tried to kick her. That was a mistake. Phil and Craig
grabbed both legs. They each took hold of an ankle. In
addition they rubbed their hands up and down my thighs and up
under my skirt, much to the amusement of the other guests. I
was sobbing in my humiliation but there was no escape.
After a little more bidding my blouse was removed. Phil
won the bidding and took it off himself. They bent me over a
little so that his face was level with mine. He reached out
and ripped my blouse down the front, he jerked my arms out, I
tried to cover up but Jan twisted my arm until I gagged. I
relaxed and they straightened me back up. I was held there,
up on the table with just my bra on. I went blank for a
moment, the only other man who had ever seen me like this was
Tom……… I never in my worst dreams imagined this could
ever happen. Paula fingered a gold chain I was wearing. It
had a diamond pendant. Tom had given it to me for our 12th
wedding anniversary. It was sold for $5.00. It was ripped
off my neck, the chain breaking at the clasp, and ripping my
neck. Gloria told Paula to hold up my ring finger so my
wedding band could be examined, “she won’t be needing that
tonight”. It went for a few dollars. I was still kind of in
shock, I was sobbing but was still unbelieving. These things
really don’t happen. Again Gloria stepped up. She reached
out and snapped the strap on my bra. “What do I hear for
this fine Maiden Form Brassiere?”…. The other guests all
laughed at her sarcasm, they talked among themselves but most
of the attention was riveted on me. The bidding went on. My
bra was sold for $20.00. Gloria didn’t make any move to
remove it though, I was shaking like a leaf, what next?
“Whoever correctly guesses what size this item of clothing is
shall have the privilege of removing it, however an incorrect
guess costs $5.00″. She reached back and looked at the tag
and laughed, “not bad, who’s your plastic surgeon?”. I was
turned and poked by several guys “so they could have a
fightin’ chance of guessing right”. Several people tried
guessing, on the third guess Steve’s wife Marie said 36D, and
Gloria smiled….”we have a winner”. Marie “graciously
allowed” Steve to remove the bra. He took his time. He
poked, rubbed and fondled me to the delight of the crowd for
about five minutes. I had lost control by then, sobbing
hysterically. Finally He removed it, and his hands.
I had noticed earlier that several people had brought
camera’s with them, now it appeared that everyone had. I was
turned and twisted to pose for these people, my hair
practically ripped out of my head to force me to look into
the cameras. Paula reached down, still holding one arm and
ripped my skirt up to my waist, flashbulbs popped. They
didn’t bother with the formality of auctioning my skirt, it
disappeared in a frenzy. I passed out.
When I awoke I was spreadeagled on my back on the coffee
table, feet tied, each to a leg, arms held back over my head
by Paula and Jan, and was surrounded by the guests, Gloria
was slapping my face. When I opened my eyes she smiled
“she’s ready now” Craig was standing at my feet. His wife
ritualistically unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down.
She caressed his penis but it was throbbing, he didn’t need
much help. When he entered me it was rough. I screamed into
the gag and everyone broke into hysterical laughter. Craig
even stopped and smiled, but not for long. He had
intercourse with me more roughly than I ever imagined
possible. Each stroke seemed to burn itself into my insides.
I looked up once into his eyes and saw a terrible fury there.
When he was done He pulled out and stood up, He moved to the
head of the table and stood over me his penis dripping into
my face. He put one foot on the table next to my face and
motioned Paula and Jan to pose on either side of him like a
champion race car driver being congratulated after a victory
while his wife took several snapshots. They also each put a
leg up on the table, their nyloned legs flanking him as
Marion took the shots. I tried to cover up, Jan grabbed an
arm and I was jerked back into a helpless position. After
Craig, the other men began taking turns on me. They blanked
into one another I was only semi-aware when one was done and
another started.
Again I blacked out. I was thinking about Tom and Karen
my 14 year old, (and Pete’s girlfriend). I imagined myself
with them on the beach during our last vacation. I was warm
and comfortable. In my dream I was warm and comfortable, I
thought I saw my son coming towards me with a cold coke. He
threatened to pour it on me.
I awoke with a start to look up into Steve’s face as he
rubbed a cold bottle of beer against my crotch. Things were
quieter, the lights had been turned off in this end of the
room, there were several candles lit. I was no longer gagged
nor held down. Steve helped untie my ankles and his wife
Marie gently guided me to a couch. I noticed that most of
the guests were gone, there were several couples sitting at
the other end of the room talking with Gloria and Dave but
they paid us no attention. Marie helped me gather my shoes,
panty hose, bra and what was left of my blouse. My panties
were nowhere to be found. I put on my panty hose and with
Marie’s help my shoes and skirt. Steve was still holding my
blouse and bra. Gloria noticed something and walked down to
our end of the room. “Steve let me help you with that stuff,
It’s not fit for Joan to wear anymore so let’s just chuck
it”. With that Steve frowned but handed her the clothing and
she tossed it into the fireplace where it disappearred in a
temporary resurgence of the dying fire.
Marie and Steve both looked a little sympathetic, they
sat on the couch on either side of me. They were both quite
gentle, and after the last hours I clung to that. The room
was warm but I was still shaking uncontrollably. Steve held
me to stop my shaking. For the first time I could remember I
stopped sobbing. I didn’t resist when Steve cupped one
breast. He was gentle and I felt a little safer being held.
Marie spoke up. “I saved your wedding ring for you, want it
back? Of course, …. listen though Steve has a fantasy
about this, would you be willing to help him live it? It’s a
lot easier than what you’ve already been through tonight”. I
nodded agreement silently. I knew I had no choice and I was
more comfortable here than I would have been if Gloria
noticed me again. And they were so kind, I wanted to
preserve that desparately.
Steve reached for my hand and held it while Marie slipped
the ring on my ring finger. Steve unzipped his pants and
motioned for me to pull his member out. I hesitated but when
Marie started to move I reached for it. I took it out, It
was hard almost immediately. Marie guided me to the floor in
front of Steve where I knelt. She pushed my Face down into
his crotch and I understood I was to take it in my mouth. I
gagged but did it. After a few moments she pulled my head
back and told me that if I wanted to I could just use my hand
but I would have to let him come in my face. Dumbly I
cooperated. I was in a kind of shock. Everytime I tried to
use my right hand she stopped me, I was to only use my left.
When he came he spurted in my face and on my hand which went
up to protect my eyes. He came a lot, it was warm and felt
smooth against my skin.
Flashbulbs popped. I looked left and there were Paula
and Gloria both recording this moment for posterity. Me
topless, on my knees, Steve’s cock in my face and cum
dripping off my face and hand (later I was to learn that it
was dripping off my ring, that was the object of the
exercise). When Steve finished cumming, Marie wiped his cock
off with my other hand and replaced it in his pants. They
both got up as if I wasn’t even there and joined the other
group. I heard a long burst of hysterical laughter. Gloria
spoke up as they left. “Get on your feet and bring us some
wine, and see if anyone wants any dessert.” I complied, it
didn’t seem like there was anything else to do at the time.
It was about 2:00 AM by then. I served dessert and a
little wine to the remaining guests. I was directed to again
remove my skirt and kneel on the floor under the lamp where
they could all see me, until I was needed. I complied. I
tried not to look into anyones’ eyes, I was sobbing again but
afraid of making too much noise. At one point Gloria got up
and threw my skirt into the fire, she also grabbed the arm
that I was using to cover my breasts and jerked away. “Don’t
you dare cover up”. After that they mostly ignored me in the
conversation but would occasionally give me a look of disgust
to insure I was aware of my condition.
For awhile I knelt there, leaning back fully exposing my
breasts to avoid Gloria’s wrath. I was thinking back through
my entire relationship with Gloria and Dave. I had never
seen anything remotely comparing to their treatment of me
tonight. I had felt that Gloria was occasionally
unnecessarily snippish with me, even rude, but she had always
seemed to be a fairly reliable friend. I had confided in her
about marital problems etc. and she in me. Her cruelty
shocked me as did her blatant enjoyment of my subjugation. I
thought about Jan. She had always been a good friend. She
was what men call a doll, small, excellent figure, pretty
face, dark complexion, attracted men like flies but seemed to
ignore them.
Tonight she was acting extremely provocative, enjoying
egging the men on, and directing their energies towards me.
She also enjoyed my subjugation. I never even imagined that
she could act like this.
About 3:30 Paula got up to leave and Gloria told me to
help her with her coat. Standing there in the hallway Paula
smiled and cruelly told me that “I have really enjoyed the
evening, haven’t you?” She laughed and told me that she had
made a deal with Gloria, and I was the deal. I would be
hearing from her later in the week, and if I valued my family
I would cooperate. She pulled my necklace out of her pocket
and told me she would get it fixed. Maybe I could borrow it
sometime….with that she stepped out the door and I was left
alone in the hallway. Dave came out and guided me to the
basement, he pointed to a pile of blankets and said Gloria
would be down in the morning. I heard that door shut and the
lock click into place. Alone in the dark, I sobbed myself
through the night but didn’t sleep. I relived the experience
countless times. Was it real? Why? Why? Why? How could I
face the people I knew. How could I face Gloria and Dave,
and the others I knew I might see again?
About 12 hours later The door opened and the bright light
caused me to squint in pain. Gloria came down carrying some
clothing which she dumped at my feet. “Get up!! Joan I’m
not going to waste time with unnecessary threats. Suffice to
say that I have affidavits from everyone who was here last
night that you got drunk and made a fool of yourself. You
made passes at every man and when they were done you were
begging for more. I have pictures that would ruin your
marriage for ever. And finally if you don’t want me to
include Karen in our next Soiree, you will do as you are
told. I do require you to sign two papers and then I am
going to let you go. I know you won’t be stupid enough to
fight this but just in case.”
I looked at the papers. One said something to the effect
that I had agreed to “sell my body” for $65.00. I agreed to
serve as the entertainment at an “adult” party with the
understanding that providing sexual favors would be part of
the deal. She had me write my age, name, and measurements on
the form in my own handwriting. She also had me write that I
would gladly perform fellatio and have intercourse with
whosoever desired at this party. And that I understood that
although such an agreement was illegal it would suffice to
prove the voluntariness of any sexual activety. I managed to
maintain my composure and although I shook, I wrote what she
wanted. After I had written what she had originally ordered,
she smiled and said let’s improve this, “write that you are
married and you know Tom your husband would die if he knew
what you had done, so you asked your husband to leave you
alone for the weekend.” Finally she had me write a note to
Tom on the back of the contract. “Tom I decided to see what
the rest of the world was like. I enjoyed what the 11 guys
at that party did to me. Ask Gloria for some snapshots.” I
complied. Gloria told me she was sure that she would never
have to use this paper.
The other form was a model release which covered the
entire night. It specifically mentioned that the photos were
nude, I had posed voluntarily and that I assigned to Gloria
the rights to do what she desired with them including
publication. The total helplessness of the situation got to
me. I broke into tears. “Joan if you don’t sign this in
about 3 seconds you will lose the chance and I will have to
protect myself in a less genteel fashion”. I wasn’t sure
what she meant but decided that I had nothing to lose by
signing the forms. I did and she left. Strangely she looked
at me with almost friendliness in her eyes and said gently,
“Joan things have changed, but you’re going to be all right.
If you continue to do what you’re told, we will take care of
you.” As she climbed the stairs out of the basement she left
the basement door open and opened the back door of her home.
I was looking directly outside.
I stepped out of the light and dressed. She had chosen
the clothes to humiliate me. There was no bra or panties,
the sweater was her daughters, and about 3 sizes too small.
The shoes were mine, the pantyhose mine (it had been washed)
but the skirt was again Chris’. In addition to being too
tight it was so short I was afraid to walk, if I took too
long a step I felt I would be exposing myself to the world.
But I did put it on and stepped out the door to freedom.
Walking down the street to my home I reflected on the
evening. And Gloria’s cryptic final remarks, she couldn’t
think she could do this to me again? I looked down at what I
was wearing and realized that she might be able to do what
she wanted. That was a chilling thought. I knew I could
never go to the police. There was a real possibility that
even if they believed my story, that Gloria could indeed ruin
my life and my families’. I passed by a moving van, people
were just moving into the home. Three guys stood on the
steps. I heard a loud whistle, and another. Realizing they
were for me I smiled involuntarily but stepped up my pace.
I felt embarrassed but flattered. I looked up into the
November sky. It was the deepest blue and the brightest
sunlight that I had seen in a long time…………….
I had spent the rest of that weekend in a daze. Saturday
afternoon when I got home, I immediately took off the clothes
Gloria had sent me away in, and threw them into the garbage
in the garage. I tried to sleep. Although I had not slept
in a day and a half, I was still to upset. I wandered around
the house, but couldn’t seem to sit down. About 6:30 I ran
some water for a bath. As I lay there I began to relax.
When I moved I realized how sore I was. I think it was than
that the shock wore off and the full import of what had
happened hit me. I had been raped, not just raped but gang-
raped. Not by strangers in some alley, but by friends, and
neighbors, less than two blocks from my home. Not knowing
where to turn, or what to do I moved from the tub to my bed
and eventually drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up Sunday I was still in kind of a funk. It
was a cold clear day and I forced myself to clean up around
the house, etc. in preparation for my families return from
Tom’s parents. I thought about friday night. That was the
first time I had had sex with anyone other than my husband.
I was ashamed to admit it but the worst part was the
humiliation. The sex with the men had been degrading but
………….. When Tom and the kids got there I tried to
act cheerful and welcome them back. Karen immediately stated
that she was going to run over to see Pete. I lost control.
I yelled at her, told her that she was not going anywhere.
Everyone stared at me, Karen looked shocked but said nothing.
Tom took me aside and asked me if I was allright. I said
yes, there was nothing wrong. He went over to Karen and told
her to wait until after dinner to leave. While she was gone
I was scared silly. What would she find out over there? I
did not know at the time if Pete or Chris knew what had
happened to me, it was so crazy I did not know what to think.
The next few days went slowly. Tom repeatedly asked me
what was wrong but I could not tell him. He could never
understand. I know I was acting strangely but could not help
myself. We tried to make love several times. Each time Tom
would try to approach me I kept thinking about that Friday
night. The one time we did make love I remember comparing
his lovemaking to Craig’s brutal intercourse. I didn’t enjoy
Tom that night at all. It was so cold so dispassionate, I
think Tom finally got the message. 10 days later, about 7:00
one night I came down stairs and heard people talking in the
living room. “What happened last weekend, she hasn’t been
the same since?” There was an edge on Tom’s voice when he
spoke. “She seemed all right Friday night when she left”.
That was Dave speaking, Gloria spoke up. “Steve and Marie
Daniels left with her, they were going to drop her off since
it was pretty late. I talked to Marie last week and she
didn’t mention anything”. “Why don’t we all get together
Saturday? Maybe she’s just depressed and a little get
together will cheer her up.” Tom agreed that that might be a
good idea. Gloria mentioned that she would try and invite a
few other people and would talk to Tom later in the week to
set it up. I realized that if someone saw me standing here
they would notice that I had been eavesdropping. I went on
down into the living room. Gloria and Dave were there with
Tom. Gloria smiled warmly and mentioned that since she
hadn’t heard from me in a while they thought they would stop
by. I mumbled hello, and sat next to Tom. We sat and talked
for about 45 minutes. Everything seemed so, so…normal.
After they left I wondered if that night had really happened.
I wanted to forget and they acted as if nothing had changed.
I tried to talk Tom out of going but he was adament.
Saturday morning came and I saw that I had no choice. I
pretended to be sick, and that was not far from the truth but
the kids were eager to leave and Tom seemed intent on
dragging me there. I put on some jeans and a blouse and
we left to walk over there. As we walked down the street I
took stock of my family. Tom was 36, a fairly successful
attorney and his practice was just beginning to come into its
own. After some hard years it looked like he was in the
process of becoming one of the most prominent local
attorneys. He was 5′10″, 175 lbs and stayed in great shape.
I was extremely proud of him. When I married him I had
misgivings. He was a wonderful person, extremely dependable
and I knew he could take care of me but he was a little to
staid, to damn dependable. I realized as I looked at him
that I had made the right choice. I cared for him deeply
and he was a wonderful husband and father. I looked at Karen
my 14 year old. She was a sophmore in high school, well
behaved and normally easy to handle. Many of my friends
envied me because Karen and I seemed to have so few problems.
Her figure had been developing faster than I wanted to see
though, I worried about her. She went out with Pete,
Gloria’s 16 year old and I felt that he was to wild for her.
Scott my 12 year old was skinny as a beanpole, a little
awkward but he was moving out of the awkward stage and I was
quite proud of him. Linda our youngest was 11, she was a
little monster, I loved her dearly though, she was my
favorite. Tom accused me of spoiling her. All in all I was
extremely proud of my family.
I looked up and saw that we had almost reached Gloria’s
house. I was a little nervous but Tom had told me that we
could leave after a little if I still didn’t feel better. If
he only knew!!! Dave met us at the door. Behind him stood
Mona who had been Karen and Scott’s 5th grade teacher. I
heard voices in the living room and I saw Phil, Gloria’s
brother and a young women I didn’t know. While Dave
introduced me to Phil and his date (Denise) Mona took Tom off
to the side and they appeared to be engaged in an earnest
discussion. The kids disappeared upstairs. I realized that
I was the only woman not wearing a skirt or a dress. Gloria
came out of the kitchen, welcomed us and asked if Mona or
I could give her a hand in the kitchen for a moment. Mona
grabbed my hand and almost dragged me into the kitchen. Once
there she placed her hand over my mouth while Gloria picked
up a cup of some bright red sauce and splashed it on my white
blouse. Gloria spoke loudly, “I’m terribly sorry”. She went
on for a moment while Mona relaxed her grip but kept a hand
on my arm and quietly said. “Co-operate with me Joan and
today will be fairly easy for you.” Before I could answer
Mona pulled me out of the kitchen, I tried to look
embarrassed, not scared. I knew somehow that that was how
they wanted me to act while Gloria announced how clumsy she
was. Mona offered to take me home to change clothes, while
Gloria continued to act sympathetic and apologize. The show
was clearly for Tom’s benefit. I understood from the
pressure of Mona’s fingers that I was to accept her offer. I
did.
She drove me the 2 blocks to my home silently. I asked
her what was going on, for a moment I was outraged but when
she offered to take me back and allow Gloria to tell Tom what
I had really done 2 weeks earlier I became a little scared
(terrified) and went along with her. She pulled up into my
driveway, I got out and begain walking towards the back door.
She stopped me. “When you enter a home alone you will use
the back door, when you are with someone else, you will
ensure that they at least use the front”.
I looked at her to ask what in the world but thought
better of it. She went up the stairs and straight into my
bedroom. I watched her as she went through my closet. She
was tall about 5′8″, blonde hair, blue eyes, single and about
31 or 32 years old. She had a good body and as I remembered
she had always liked to flaunt it. She was wearing a long
black skirt, but it was slit to mid thigh. I had seen when
we had walked into Gloria’s home that Tom had noticed her. I
had felt a tinge of jealousy.
After going through my closet for a moment she turned to
me and told me to get out all my skirts, pumps or heels, tan
or flesh covered panty hose, and sweaters. She would choose
what I was to wear. I complied with her demand. As I bent
down to get out my shoes I bumped into her. She grabbed my
hair and slapped my twice across the face. She didn’t hit me
hard but I was shocked. Tears rolled down my face. “Hurry
up, if we don’t get back in a few minutes Gloria will be
getting out the picture album she created for you last week
and showing Tom and your kids what a good show you put on.”
After I had lain everything out she picked out 2 pair of
shoes, plain black pumps and plain white ones, several pair
of panty hose and a sweater. She made me try on several
skirts. Finally she made me put on the black pumps, panty
hose, a knee length black skirt and a red turtle neck. She
put several skirts, the white pumps and some panty hose into
a shopping bag. As she turned to go almost as an
afterthought she told me to show her what kind of sweaters
Karen had. She picked out a sweater that I had given Karen
for her birthday, a beautiful white angora sweater. She
placed that in her shopping bag and we left.
When we got back they were all sitting down to dinner.
Gloria sat Tom down at one table and Mona quickly grabbed the
empty seat to his right. I felt Phil’s hand guide me to a
seat at the other table. I looked over at Tom, he smiled at
me and started to say something. Right about then Mona
placed her hand on his arm and he turned to talk to her. I
sat down between Phil and Denise. I wasn’t very hungry. I
picked at my food. Phil tried to make small talk and so did
Denise. About halfway through the dinner I felt Phil’s hand
on my leg. He started at the knee and slid his hand between
my skirt and leg. While smiling at my daughter and asking
her about a party she had gone to with Pete he fondled my
thigh up to my panties. We both acted as if nothing was
happening. Denise looked at him and in a very sotto voice,
told him to “leave her alone,……for now” they both laughed
at that and after that they pretty much ignored me.
After dinner Gloria grabbed me and guided me into the
kitchen. I could hear Tom talking to Phil and Mona just
outside the door. She told me that Dave had something to
show me. He came up from the basement and motioned for me to
follow him down. I went down behind him, upstairs I could
hear the voices of the others. He took me to the corner
where I had spent the night 2 weeks earlier. There was a
blanket covering one wall. He removed it, underneath there
were dozens of pictures. They were all of me, in the various
stages of undress that I had been forced to parade around in
that night. In the center there was a large color photo of
me, topless, on my knees, with my left hand around an erect
penis, no more than 3 inches from my face. Cum was dripping
off my face and hand. My wedding ring could be clearly seen
underneath. It looked as if I was smiling. Next to that one
there was a shot of me wearing panties, pantyhose, black
heels, and nothing else. I was kneeling in the living room
while 6 or 7 people sat on the couches ignoring me. “Joan if
you will cooperate today we won’t show these pictures to Tom.
If at any time you cause any trouble though, he will get the
same tour that you received.” Numbly I turned away. I
started to cry. “If he sees something is wrong, we will have
to assume you are not cooperating. I will leave you alone
here for a few moments but we will be expecting you
upstairs.” He smiled at me, and reached down and raised my
skirt. He looked at my legs for a moment, as if to show me
that he had that power. He dropped my skirt and left the
basement without speaking again. After several minutes I
turned and walked up the stairs.
I numbly reached for the door handle, I was going to
just leave, nothing could be worse than staying. Gloria was
standing right outside the door. She smiled and told me that
she thought I might try and leave, but it would be easier if
I stayed. If I left she and Mona would have to show Tom what
a “slut he had married.” After she and Mona finished talking
to Tom I could never go home again. If I continued to
cooperate I would only suffer momentary embarrassment. I was
repulsed at what she considered “momentary embarrassment” but
knew that I had no choice. We went inside. Most everyone
was in the living room. Tom was there with Mona. He looked
up at me. “How are you feeling?” “Better I lied”. Gloria
told Tom that she wanted to show me her new crafts room. He
laughed and told me to have fun. Gloria guided me up the
stairs. We went up into what had been the attic. It had
been remodeled for her to use for her hobbies. (I was soon
to learn that I was a hobby). Once there Denise soon joined
us. Phil was right behind her. “Shall we get started?”
Gloria asked sarcastically. Phil grabbed my arms while
Gloria and Denise pulled my sweater off. As soon as my arms
slipped through the sleeves Phil grabbed them again. They
removed my skirt and slip and then, strangely, Gloria asked
Phil and Denise to leave the room.”
“Joan, don’t talk, just and absorb what I have to say.
Go ahead, sit down on the bed. Obviously you realized
earlier that you have more to gain by going along with us
than by fighting. What I have in mind for you isn’t too bad.
You are going to have to learn to cooperate. If you do,
your life will go on pretty much as it always has. If not,
well, I have some alternate plans. For the rest of today,
relax and try to have fun. I promise you will not be hurt.”
I thought about what she had said. All through my life,
from high school, college, and marriage I had been a “good
girl”, a “good wife” and generally had conformed to what a
“nice” girl should do. Tom had been my “first”. I
fantasized about other men on occasion but had never so much
as expressed the thought. I always dressed modestly. The
night they raped me I was terrified, humiliated, degraded to
the point of being sick, but when I thought back about it, I
started to feel warm down around my vagina. I knew, and she
knew that I was going to cooperate. She knew how I felt,
degraded but excited.
Dave came in the room. Gloria commanded that I kneel on
the floor. I did. Phil and Denise came back in. Denise
picked up a tape measure and proceeded to take my
measurements. After she measured my bust I was allowed to
replace my bra. She recorded the measurements on a bulletin
board. I noticed that there were blanks there so the
succeeding measurements could be compared to the previous
ones. Dave looked down the stairs and into the hallway. He
reported that the coast was clear Gloria led me down stairs
to the bathroom. I was directed to step on the scale. We
started back into the attic but Gloria guided me to her
bedroom. She pushed my head down into what had been an old
heating grate, but was now slightly open into her living
room. I saw Tom and Mona on the couch, Mona had her hand on
his arm and it was obvious they were engrossed in
conversation. Her skirt had slipped partially off her thigh.
He was enjoying her company. It was also obvious that she
was offering him more than a platonic relationship. Before I
could react Gloria guided me back upstairs. I was directed
to kneel on the floor again while the others discussed my
body. I learned that they thought it was good, but that I
would be sent to the “Workout World” to improve it. During
the afternoon, I stayed there, not ignored but not harrassed
either. Phil wrote out an exercise schedule and told me
that I would be using it soon. Dave and Phil spent most of
the time downstairs.
I could hear the kids in another room but they stayed
well out of the way most of the afternoon. I was terrified
that one of them would come in and see me like this. Denise
mentioned something to Gloria about Tom coming up but Gloria
laughed and assured her that Mona was not going to let him
out of her sight.
Late in the afternoon Denise told me to dress and come
on downstairs. She took me into the bathroom and helped
rearrange my make-up. When I came downstairs Tom had the
kids in the living room and they were preparing to leave.
Gloria asked me to stay. “Tom you don’t mind if Joan stays
awhile do you?” He said it was up to me. They both looked
at me, but before I could speak Gloria spoke up, “great,
it’s settled, Joan promised me she would help me bake
tonight”. With that Tom told me not to stay too late,
kissed me, and left with the kids.
Gloria brought me into the living room. Mona brought
out the bag of clothing she had taken from my home earlier.
Dave and Phil seemed to be arranging some photographic
lights and shades around the Christmas tree. Dave had
several cameras two on tripods, and one with a strange
looking lens that he was holding in his hand. As soon as
they finished arranging things they looked at me,
expectantly, “Well come on, step up here.” I came forward
and Dave “posed me” in front of the tree. “Turn slightly
sideways, bend forward slightly, now with your right hand,
grab a handful of skirt and raise it a little.” “Damn it
smile!” I was sobbing by now, Dave roughly wiped my face,
and pushed me into the position he wanted. For several
minutes we went on like this. Finally, Gloria who had been
watching silently suggested theat we were going about this
all wrong. “Strip her!!” she commanded, Denise and Mona
proceeded to undress me. They weren’t rough, they weren’t
gentle, they were just cold and efficient. After I was
undressed Dave lay me down on the floor, on my side and
photographed me in front of the tree. Then he moved me so
that I was on my back, feet towards the camera, legs spread,
and my left hand (wedding ring) covering my vagina. I was
made to pose this way for a while.
Eventually I was allowed to put on some clothing, and I
was photographed for the next couple hours in various stages
of dress and undress. I tried on all the pairs of panty
hose Mona had brought, Dave and Phil selected the shades
they liked. One skirt, my longest, had been slit to the
waist, another had been hemmed up during the afternoon so
that it was much too short. They tried every combination of
clothing and pose imaginable. No blouse, then no skirt,
change shoes, bra on, bra off, panty hose on, panty hose
off, change skirts, remove skirt etc. I wasn’t enjoying
this at all but I wasn’t as scared as I had been originally.
I was still scared and maybe a little angry (although my
fear overruled my anger) but it wasn’t as hard to go along
with them as it had been in the beginning. I realized what
Gloria had done. By making me pose nude at first, I knew
the worst was over and that things had to get better. It
worked. Both Dave and Phil became quite solicitous, as long
as I cooperated they were gentle.
About 9:30 Dave told Gloria he was done. Mona piped up,
“I have one more idea.” I was directed to put on some
suntan panty hose, my black heels, and my daughters White
sweater, but no skirt. The sweater was quite long and
actually partially covered my thighs. Gloria brought me to
the kitchen, bent me over the sink and soaked the sweater
with water. She brought me dripping into the living room.
Mona had collected 3 hair dryers and they began heating the
sweater to dry it, while I was still in it. It took about an
hour. When they finished they repeated the process. Finally
they did it again. This time before it was totally dry Mona
suggested they try some shots. By now the sweater had
shrunk. It was from fitting. It had stretched around my
breasts and was tight on my stomach. It still covered a
little thigh.
Dave posed me in front of the tree again. This time he
took several rolls of film of just this outfit. I knelt, I
bent over, I was twisted, and even took one shot looking
straight at the camera, hands underneath my chest as if I
was offering my breasts. This shot took awhile to get right
because they insisted I smile. It wasn’t easy but Gloria’s
threats and the promise that they would keep it up until I
got it right scared me into trying. The resultant grimace
wasn’t great but Dave said it would do. Finally Gloria
suggested the men pose with me. I knelt in front of them,
Dave unzipped his fly and placed my hand around his penis.
I began to perform as he wished. When he was done he did
not put his penis back into his pants, he stood next to we
while I was forced to suck Phil. During this time Gloria
took numerous shots. Finally they were done.
I was told to kneel in the corner for a while. Mona
asked me about the family photo that we had taken several
weeks earlier. “Tom told me that you are going to send
cards this year with that photo on them”. I nodded
agreement. Dave looked at Gloria and they both smiled.
“Bring us some of them!” “When will you pick them up?” I
replied that they should be ready on Monday. Gloria ordered
me to bring them to her immediately after I got them. The
phone rang, Dave answered it. “Everythings fine, she should
be finished in a little. Joan, it’s Tom.” He handed me the
phone and I took it. “He sounded a little irritated. It’s
well passed midnight hon, when will you be home? I didn’t
think you would stay this long, I wish you would have called,
is everything all right?” As he was speaking Phil had
reached over and was absentmindedly fondling my thigh.
Denise tried to smother a giggle but failed. I told Tom I
was all right and would be home soon. He sounded a little
relieved, I told him not to wait up, He said he would try but
in any case to wake him when I got in. I promised and we
hung up. I asked Gloria if I could leave.
She told me that they weren’t done with me yet. She
wanted to get a few more shots of me with my ring finger
wrapped around Dave’s penis. I was posed again, and again.
Finally they were through. Gloria told me to dress, as I
had been dressed when I arrived. I did but Mona stopped me
when I started to put the skirt on. Gloria told me that I
was through for the weekend but that I had better be back
Monday at 1:30 with the family Christmas cards.
“Do you hear me?” “Yes, I heard.” “Than you better be
here.” Gloria took me into the kitchen where we were joined
by Mona. “Joan, I have a few instructions for you; first
you will no longer wear pantsuits or jeans, you will wear
skirts and dresses ALWAYS, second you will no longer say no
to a man, and third you will use the back door when you are
at my home.” Do you understand? I nodded. She sounded
gentle so I asked her why…..Before The words were out of
my mouth I was told to “Shut UP!!! In due time you will
learn, for now, just cooperate and you will be allowed to
continue your way of life. Mona got up to leave. I
gathered my skirt in my hand, looked for my slip with no
success, found my purse and headed for the door. “Wrong
door bitch” with that Gloria pointed at the back door. I
walked out and found Mona waiting out front. She motioned
for me to get into her car. I did. She drove to my house,
once in front I started to put my skirt on. She stopped me.
“Get out of the car.” “I’m not dressed.” She reached over
and pushed me out, I was to scared to fight. Once out of
her car I stood there, she had stopped under a street light,
and put my skirt on. I walked into the house.
On the kitchen counter was a yellow manila envelope.
Joan, read me, it said in large red letters. I opened it
and gasped. It contained a blank diary, but also about
twenty pictures taken two weeks earlier. The photographs
formed a chronological record of my gang-rape. There was a
note. “Joan use this diary to record what happened to you
during the last two weeks. Be detailed, be specific, record
everything about your feelings. Bring this with you when you
come over Monday. You may keep the snapshots. So far you
are the only one in your family who has seen them. If you
continue to cooperate, we may be able to keep it this way.
Sweet Dreams…………. Gloria, Mona, and Denise.”
I stuffed the photo’s back into the manilla envelope and
shoved it into a cabinet full of junk that no one ever
looked into, and stumbled upstairs sobbing quietly. Tom was
sound asleep when I got there. For some reason I looked on
his dresser. There was one of his business cards with some
writing on it, I took it into the bathroom to read. It was
a women’s handwriting, it had a phone number, and address,
and it was signed Mona………..Not knowing what could come
next, I crawled off to bed. I thought about the day, Tom’s
possible relationship with Mona, and Gloria’s final orders.
I drifted off to sleep.

Sexual Affair

Administrator — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 13:15:40 +0000

Breakfast is over…your husband is off to work, and the
kids have left for school. You sit quietly at the kitchen
table finishing the last cup from the coffee
pot…daydreaming about nothing in particular…getting
ready to start another weekday.

The doorbell rings once, startling you from your morning
trance. You rise slowly from the table, wondering who it
might be. As you walk from the kitchen to the front door you
think “what a sight I am, hair all mussed, in an old robe
and worn slippers…well the hell with it, whoever it is
they probably don’t look much better than I do.”

Quickly you run your hands through your hair and down the
front of your robe, smoothing out the wrinkles as best you
can. Standing on your tip toes you peek through the security
viewer in the door. You can see the head and shoulders of a
man in a cap and workshirt. He apppears to be in his mid to
late thirties, with sandy blond hair peeking out from around
his cap.

You open the door slightly, and peering around the edge you
say “Yes?”

You can see more of him now…a strong, atheletic, tall man
carrying a toolbox in his right hand.

“You called about your refrigerator?” he says in a deep, but
soft baritone.

You remember your call to the appliance store in town
yesterday, and their promise to send someone to look at your
balky ice maker.

“Yes, I did, come in, please”.

You open the door to let him in, then close it behind him.

“The ice maker…it doesn’t work all the time, and we’re
expecting company this weekend”"

Just inside the door he places his tool box on the flooor
and turns to face you. His deep, hazel/green eyes meet
yours. You stand not moving under his unblinking gaze, and a
tremor of fear, or is it excitement, quivers along your
spine. For what seems an eternity neither of you speaks or
moves. You are riveted in place by his eyes. They seem to
reach out and hold you immobile, like a fawn caught in the
headlights of a speeding car.

He doesn’t move, or speak. His eyes seem to see right into
your soul, and you desperately want to say something to
break the spell…but you can’t find your voice. Something
primal in the depths of your being doesn’t want to move or
speak, something strong and insistent, caged and yearning
for the light pushes its way up through your stomach like a
white fire. You stand unmoving, trembling, half afraid.

You watch helplessly as his hands reach for you. They are
strong, rough hands…a workingman’s hands, but strangely
graceful in their movements.Slowly, one button at a time, he
unbuttons your robe. You feel on the edge of panic, but the
growing white fire in your belly holds you firmly, and
quietly, in place.

He pushes the robe gently off your shoulders, and it falls
silently, forgotten, to the floor.

Your knees are turning to water, and the trembling along
your spine is moving in waves. Gently he places his hands on
your shoulders and turns you around with your back to him.
His hands move softly to your hips, and with one hand on
your stomach backs you toward him, while the other lifts
your teddy over your head.

His hand on your stomach seems to spread the fire upward,
and for a moment you can’t catch your breath. Gently his
hands move upward to caress your erect nipples. and after a
moment, downward across your stomach. By now, your will to
resist is vanished…you are consumed by an animal need so
strong that it’s almost more frightening than this man, this
stranger. As he holds you against his body, you can feel his
nakedness against your back. Between your buttocks you feel
his erect penis pulsing gently, insistently.

He turns you around. For the first time you see his rock
hard body. The muscles of his stomach lie beneath his skin
like a washboard. His belly is covered by fine blond hair.
and his biceps ripple when he moves his arms. His tiny,
erect nipples point their desire at you, and as your nipples
touch his chest you totter on the edge of an orgasm.

In one fluid motion he reaches an arm beneath your buttocks
and another behind your back, and lowers you to the floor.
His hands begin to search every inch of your exposed body,
touching, caressing, fondling. Their rough texture on your
soft skin belies their gentleness. slowly his right hand
finds your clitoris and begins a gentle stroking which sends
waves of sensation coursing into your trembling belly. You
close your eyes, giving yourself over completely to the
sensations, feeling your mushrooming desire.

Your sensations gradually grow in intensity as the rhythm of
his hand on your clitoris grows ever faster. Suddenly he
stops, and you feel him move down toward your mons. He parts
your thighs and with a start of disappointment you feel him
move between them. Before you can open your eyes, you feel
the insistent pressure of his hand replaced by a warm, wet,
raspy sensation around your vagina, which moves slowly
upward toward your hot clitoris. As his wet tongue rasps
gently across it’s inflamed head you feel your belly explode
in orgasm.

As you writhe in helpless rapture his stroking tongue guides
you from peak to peak, until you think there can’t possibly
be any more. But moment after moment he caries you higher
until you believe you’ll die. Finally, you collapse, beyond
sensation, floating on a soft carpet in a warm sea. You lie
exhausted, but yearning for more.

The stroking of his tongue subsides to a warm caress which
adds a gentle pink haze to your dream like state. Then,
gradually you feel his tongue become more insistent, and
once again, and yet again, you explode in ecstasy. Time
after countless time you follow this stranger into
sensations you never imagined possible, and after each he
gives you an eternity of quiet caressing to savor the
journey.

Finally, his tongue abandons your clitoris, and begins a
march across your belly. Nibbling, stroking, sucking, he
moves up to your full breasts. You feel his warm, wet tongue
gently circling your erect and sensitive nipples, first one,
and then the other, as sensation shoots from their tips to
the pit of your stomach. As he moves along your body,
hovering just above it, you feel his penis, erect, inflamed,
pressing into your thighs, and then your stomach, pulsing
gently up and down. You feel his breath panting on your
neck, and the extinguished flame of your desire rises again
from the ashes.

You become aware of the tip of his penis pushing gently at
the entrance to your vagina, as he sucks gently on the skin
of your shoulders. Your hands move along his back, stroking
the hard ribbons of muscle beneath his skin. You feel his
body begin to thrust at your vaginal entrance, and you
sense his need through the insistence of his movements. Your
hands run down his back and grip his iron hard buttocks, and
you pull gently, encouraging his joining with you. As he
feels your hands pulling him firmly toward you, he thrusts
forward, and your well lubricated vagina engulfs his
engorged penis. You both gasp with pleasure at the
penetration.

His penis begins to stroke rhythmically, and with each
pistoning movement he seems to fill you completely. His body
is very strong, and his desire for you is intense, but his
movement is surprisingly gentle. This strong, hard man is
making love to you, and the sudden realization of it brings
on an orgasmic release which is as unexpected as it is
pleasureable. You rock together in a rhythm as old as time,
as waves of pleasure on the physical plane, and joy on the
spiritual plane wash over you both.

As your orgasm subsides into a warm glow, his thrusting
grows more gentle, virtually stoping at times.
Still he moves in and out, almost helplessly. Each gentle
thrust of his hips places his body deep inside yours. The
simple pleasure of being joined rivals the intensity of the
other sensations you have created together. You have no
sense of time, or place, only the joining, the oneness.

You can feel beneath the tightness of his back muscles a
growing need, an insistence, which is as much a part of his
primal being as the white hot fire in your belly is of
yours. You can sense in him a need to climax, to finish the
act, to leave part of himself inside you. You feel this need
building with every pistoning of his massively erect penis,
with every thrust of his hips. You can feel his buttocks
clenching with increasing desperation as he nears his
completion. As you feel this need, you want to join him
fully. His increasingly powerful thrusts are greated with
your own ever more powerful upthrusts as you strive together
to join in this most human of acts. You pound together,
stripped of intellect, reduced to primitive animals,
grunting, panting, sweat intermingling, senseless, inflamed
, and desperately reaching for each other. In a moment his
thrusting becomes beyond his control. You open yourself
totally pressing upward to meet his downward plunges until
he moans, tortured, and begins to stiffen with the
approaching climax. Your own final orgasm grips you at the
moment you feel his completion, and you hold him desperately
with every muscle in your body. His back arches violently,
and between your sweaty thighs, deep in the recesses of your
clutching vagina, you feel him begin to throb.With each
throb in your vagina, you hear him gasp, and you feel his
hot semen pour out of you, running down the crack between
your buttocks. With each thrust it flows around his
pistoning penis and gushes out. A half dozen times he fills
your overflowing vagina, and each time his huge cock forces
it out onto your buttocks. Its scalding wash inflames your
final explosion, and you shudder together in your final
release. In a last moment of conscious thought before you
collapse together you feel a completeness you’ve never
imagined possible before.

After some time, you couldn’t say how long, you feel his
lips brush your cheek. Without a word he stands up, pulls on
his clothes, picks up his tools, and quietly leaves.

For a long time afterward you lie alone on your livingroom
floor, wondering at your lack of remorse, and pleasuring in
the warm afterglo. “We never said a word” you think. And as
you think about it you realize that the silence, the
anonimity, made it alright. “I’m still married, I still have
the kids, I still love my husband…I’m ok.” And you realize
that you’ve gained something precious…a secret memory to
place in that absolutely private place inside, never to be
forgotton, or repeated.

Therese Slut Wife Orgy

Administrator — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 17:39:57 +0000

Jim and Therese had been married for a couple of years when
we arranged to go camping together. Therese’s sister Jean was
supposed to come along, but she had to cancel out. We left early
Friday afternoon and after a few hours drive were at our campsite.
We set up our two tents on a broad rocky area, with a small
stream about twenty feet away on one side and the woods on the
other. We started a fire and had dinner and were just finishing
as the last few rays of the sunset painted the sky. We walked down
to the stream in the dusk and sat beside it. Jim lit up a joint
and took a deep, relaxing toke. He handed it to Therese who shook
her hair back and took an equally long toke. She shut her eyes and
passed it over to me.
We sat there talking and relaxing for an hour or so, all the
time Therese and Jim were rubbing up against each, copping quick
feels and generally getting themselves all worked up. Therese said
she had to pee and asked Jim to carry the flashlight for her. They
disappeared into the bushes. I lit up another joint and lay back
on the cool stone. I could hear the bushes rustling where Jim and
Therese were fucking, and occasionally a groan or shout would come
drifting out of the darkness.
My eyes closed and my hands drifted over my chest and crotch.
My cock needed release so I opened my pants and pulled them down
to my knees. I gripped my dick with my right hand slowly stroked
it up and down. I reached down and squeezed my balls, grabbing
them and twisting. It felt great to be lying there under the open
sky with my cock in my hand. I started to pump my dick faster and
then I felt the cum boiling in my shaft. Seconds later I was
shooting gobs and gobs of thick white cum. I hadn’t cum in a
couple of days so this was a real heavy load.
I lay there feeling my cock soften, smearing my cum all over
my body. I opened my eyes and saw Jim and Therese about 2 feet
away, staring intently at me. Therese’s mouth was open in a little
o and her eyes were focused on my dick. The pot kept me relaxed
so I just watched them and started to feel horny that they had
watched me jerk off. My cock started to harden again.
Therese’s nipples were sticking straight up, all tight and
crinkly as she crawled over to me, her eyes never leaving my dick.
Her mouth opened and wrapped around my dick. She started sucking
on it furiously. I shut my eyes again and concentrated completely
on the pleasure that Therese was giving me. I felt her as she
shifted around, placing her wet pussy over my face. I loved the
smell of her pussy, freshly fucked by Jim. She ground it over my
face and my tongue danced in and out. I grabbed hold of her clit
with my lips and squeezed, she swallowed more of my cock in
response.
My tongue lapped all around and in and out of her delicous
cunt and she squirmed and groaned in response. My face was full
of her juices, and some of Jim’s cum. I opened my eyes in time to
see Jim come up behind Therese, lift her pussy off my face and
slide his thick hard cock into her. His hands gripped her ass hard
and he fucked her hard in silence. His balls slapped and danced
over my face, I let them bounce against my tongue a few times,
relishing the taste of both these hot people.
Jim pumped his wife’s pussy fast and then rammed his cock all
the way in. His face screwed up tight and his ass was beautiful
to watch as he came inside Therese. His cock was buried completely
in her cunt as he shuddered and came and came in her. It was so
intense to watch Jim cum that I started to cum in Therese’s mouth!
She clamped down hard and took my entire load, she said later that
she loved having two guys cumming inside her at the same time.
Jim collapsed on top of Therese and she collapsed on top of
me and the three of us lay there giggling in the moonlight. I
reached up and fingered Therese’s still sloppy pussy, got some of
Jim’s cum on my finger, put it to my lips and licked it with a
smile. Therese asked me how I liked his cum, and I said “Fresh
from his balls!”
With that Jim brushed the head of his still soft cock across
my lips and I opened my mouth to receive it. I milked it with my
lips and felt it stiffen in my mouth. Soon he was completely hard,
and pumping his dick in and out of my face. I was still on my back
and he was spread-eagled over me, fucking my face with a vigorous
abandon. Therese moved down and straddled my hardening cock,
stuffing it deep into her pussy. She moaned words of encouragement
to Jim, telling him to fuck my face good while she squeezed and
played with his ass.
Once again I looked up and saw Jim stiffen, seconds later he
was flooding my mouth with his hot spunk. Therese screamed when
she saw her husband’s cum dribbling out of my mouth and threw
herself up and down on my cock. She bent over and kissed me hard
on the mouth, her tongue getting some of Jim’s cum. We passed his
cum back and forth to each other, our tongues almost always knotted
together. Then Therese started to cum, she bucked and heaved
wildly over my hips as wave after wave of orgasm swept over her.

Telepathy Ability

Administrator — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 16:00:06 +0000

I strolled into the gym, dressed in shorts and a ragged old
T-shirt. People were drifting in, gathering for the fitness
class scheduled to begin in a few minutes. The norms scattered
around the floor stretching and loosening up were fit and
healthy-looking; I’d selected an advanced class for my day’s
recreation. The women, who outnumbered the men by a
considerable margin, were generally dressed in body-hugging
clothing. Spandex was common among the men, too; they mostly
seemed to be of that irritating Serious Exerciser type, anxious
that their clothing should state, “Hey, I do this all the time.”
“Norms?” Normals, you know; people who *can’t* impose their
will on other people, the way that I can. Call it projective
telepathy, call it what you will. How’d I get to be this way?
That’s not a subject I care to discuss, for reasons I’m also not
interested in pursuing. Don’t worry, though: should we ever
meet, Gentle Reader, you’ll be far too busy hastening to obey my
every command to worry about the origin of my power. Some might
say that I don’t put my powers to constructive use; they might
even go so far as to accuse me of being rather petty and
vindictive, even cruel at times. I recall a young man who said
something along those lines to me, right to my face. Poor
fellow; I may have been a bit hard on him, I must admit. I’ll
not go into the sordid details here. Hey, he’s *alive*, all
right?
I sauntered around the edge of the gym, casually checking
out the female population. Choosing the advanced workout had
been wise, I could see immediately; these women were uniformly
taut and lean, right up my alley. They invested a lot of time in
their bodies, clearly, and were interested in showing off their
well-muscled forms, chiselled out through rigorous diet and
exercise.
One young lass in particular caught my eye as she bent over
and stretched, and I headed towards her. Before I reached her,
however, a couple of macho-male jock types crossed my path,
talking loudly and not watching where they were going. The one
in front collided with me quite solidly, his shoulder meeting
mine and knocking me off balance for a moment.
“Hey, sorry, guy,” he boomed, slapping me on the back. They
moved past me.
“Hold on a moment,” I said. “Come back here.” They turned
around obediently and stood in front of me.
I looked them over. “I think you’re a couple of obnoxious
jock assholes. Don’t you agree?” They nodded silently. “Say
it.”
“We’re a couple of obnoxious jock assholes,” they chimed,
creating a pleasant stereo effect.
“Again, please.”
They said it again. “Well,” I said, “we’ll just have to
. . . Oh, hang on.” A few people nearby were beginning to take
notice of this little scene unfolding before them; it was time to
take care of that. *You will notice nothing unusual about
anything that may occur in this gym*, I wide-projected to
everyone in the place. I then slapped up a couple of repeating
fields over the only two doors, projecting that same command over
and over; anyone who entered would receive instructions to see
nothing peculiar. People returned to their chatting and warming
up, the behaviour of my two “friends” forgotten.
“Well,” I resumed, “we’ll just have to do something about
that, won’t we? For the next four months, I want you to do no
exercise at all, OK?”
“All right.” “Sure.”
“And twice a day you’ll be overwhelmed with a craving for
chocolate bars, ice cream, potato chips, that sort of thing. See
if you can gain fifty or sixty pounds for me, will you? And lose
all that nasty muscle tone. Do you guys have girlfriends?” They
both nodded. “Do you have sex with them often?”
“Every couple days.” “Twice a week, maybe.”
I smiled. “You’ll be impotent with them for the next four
months. No, make it six months, and make it with everyone, not
just them. Now, what’s the most expensive item you own?”
“My stereo system.” “My computer.”
“Why don’t you go home right now and smash those up for me?
After you’ve made sure the things are destroyed, you’ll have no
idea why you did it, all right? Forget about me, except that you
will of course keep following my orders. Go.”
They wandered off, wearing that amusingly puzzled look norms
tend to get when can sense that they’re about to do something
tremendously foolish, but have no idea why, and even less idea
what to do about it. I laughed aloud. You norms bring me no end
of amusement, you really do. Such a vast pool of things to play
with, and all of them without the most elementary of mental
defences.
My petty revenge having been exacted – yes, I admit it, but
I don’t let anyone else say such things – I continued towards the
girl. She wore pink leggings, with a black leotard. The leotard
plunged into a thong in back, emphasizing her firm ass underneath
the clingy pink material. Her breasts were rather large; the bra
that held them up was clearly visible in outline under the
leotard’s fabric.
I strolled up and placed a hand on her butt. She turned her
head to look casually over her shoulder at me, not finding this
unusual, of course; her gaze was just mildly curious.
“You don’t mind,” I said. Not a question.
“No, of course not.” She returned to her conversation with
two of her friends, neither of whom remarked upon my presence.
I ran both hands over that tight ass, then down her long,
muscular legs, enjoying the feel of her body.
“This is getting you turned on,” I informed her. I ran my
hands back up one leg, then brushed lightly over her cunt with my
fingertips. She gasped. I continued upwards, over her flat
stomach, to her breasts. Her nipples were large and hard,
perceptible even through two layers of material. She moaned
slightly as my hands moved over her.
I moved behind her and hugged her to me, moving one hand
over her tummy and the other over her tits. I could feel the
flesh of her ass pressing against my erection as I buried my face
in her long blond hair, pleased by the scent of it. I rubbed my
hard-on against her, and she moved her hips against me in
response. She had dropped out of the conversation by this point,
her level of excitement having rendered it difficult for her to
speak.
A female voice rang out from the opposite side of the gym.
“Just about a minute ’til we get started, everybody! Just let me
get the music set up . . .” The aerobics instructor had
obviously arrived while I had been distracted. I caught a
glimpse of her through the crowd. Holy smokes! Definitely
worthy of closer investigation.
But before I moved on, this lovely thing I was touching had
earned a bit of a reward. “You’re about to have an orgasm,” I
whispered in her ear. “3, 2, 1 . . . Now.” I felt her spasm
against me, and she let out a low cry. “Again, 3, 2, 1 . . .
Now. And again, 3, 2, 1 . . . Now. Have a nice day.” I left
her there, her face contorted with pleasure as the multiple
climaxes peaked and died away. See? I have my moments of
generosity, spreading a little joy in this dark and sad world.
Well, I’m *told* it’s dark and sad, anyway; I hadn’t really
noticed, myself.
The instructor was a truly spectacular specimen, I found
when I approached. She wore an all white outfit, leotard over
leggings; her body definitely did not need the concealing effect
of darker colours. Her breasts were of a medium size, not large,
but wonderfully well-shaped and very firm. Her arms were slender
yet toned. The flat panels of her stomach were outlined by the
leotard, as were the strong muscles of her long legs. Even her
ass was well-muscled.
She had a very pretty face, I noticed at last, and was
flashing a beautiful smile at some of the regulars as she cued up
her workout tape. Her hair was long and shiny black, tied back
in a cute ponytail. There was not an ounce of excess flesh
anywhere to be seen; her small, compact body was taut as a drum
all over.
“Wow,” I said. The word just slipped out, I was so taken
with her. She turned briefly and looked at me, then returned to
what she was doing. Under other circumstances, she might have
thought it unusual to see a guy standing up close to her, an
obvious erection poking at the front of his shorts, staring at
her body and practically drooling.
She brushed past me and jogged lightly to the centre of the
floor. God, she moved like a cat! No, like a tiger, long
muscles flowing under the skin. This, I thought, promises to be
fun!
The class got started, the instructor leading them through
some light stretching and other warm-up exercises. It was a
fair-sized crowd for the relatively small gymnasium, perhaps
fifty or sixty in all, among whom I counted about ten men. I
didn’t bother joining in; I just stood near the edge of the gym
and watched the woman in the centre. I found that a few
aerobicisers were impeding my view of her; I projected a command
that a clear aisle was to be maintained for me at all times.
After a few minutes the main aerobic segment began, complex
combinations of knee raises, leg lifts, stride jumps, and so on,
moving back and forth across the gym. As she led the class, the
teacher would change positions from time to time, moving out of
the centre to the front or the back. Many of the exercisers got
an extra workout while hustling to keep from moving between me
and her. Everyone was constantly checking – quite unaware that
they were doing it – to make sure that my line of sight was
clear.
There was a great deal of bouncing going on, and I was
enjoying watching the leader as she ricocheted around the room
with apparently limitless energy. But perhaps I could enjoy this
just a little bit more, I thought, if . . .
*Everyone make sure that you’re doing the same thing the
instructor is doing at all times*, I wide-projected. I turned my
attention to the current object of my desire. *That leotard is
quite itchy*, I sent to her. *Your breasts feel all
uncomfortable, and they’re too confined in there.*
As she performed the movements of the routine, her hands
started to dart up to brush her tits, futilely scratching an itch
that would not go away until I willed it. She also tugged at the
straps of her outfit, trying to loosen it for comfort. I was
amused to see the movements echoed all around the room, men and
women scratching their chests and pulling on their clothing.
*You’ll stop itching and feeling all bound up if you just
push your top down a bit*, I projected. *Go ahead.*
While still doing knee lifts, she reached up and eased the
straps of her leotard off her shoulders, peeling it down to her
waist. She wore a simple white sports bra underneath. Her smile
grew wider with relief, and she threw herself into the next set
of moves with great enthusiasm.
*The bra, too. Throw it to the edge of the gym.* She
reached behind her and unfastened it, then threw it off to one
side. A hail of bras followed as the rest of the class imitated
her.
The instructor’s breasts, now bouncing free, were topped by
small but prominent nipples. Looking around, I was greeted by
the pleasant sight of a sea of bare-chested women. The men were
bare-chested as well; they were looking around too, not finding
the situation unusual but certainly appreciating it.
*Why not get rid of the whole leotard? Just toss it.*
She had to stop moving for a moment to accomplish this.
Stepping quickly out of it, she threw the leotard – surprisingly
small when not filled by a body – to the edge of the gym. This
left her clad only in her white leggings, which ran from her
knees up to her waist, where they rode low on her hips. Again, a
flurry of clothing from the class soon joined hers. The men shed
their shorts or spandex tights, and continued to work out in
their underwear; that they were finding this an unusually
stimulating class was now quite obvious to anyone who cared to
look.
I sat down, content to just sit back and take in the scenery
for a while. The class moved on to strength exercises, pushups
and situps and other movements, all of which had interesting
effects on the anatomies of the females. Eventually they moved
on to an exercise for the inner thigh: lying on their backs with
legs straight up in the air, they lowered their legs out to the
sides, then brought them back together again. I stood up.
*Strip*, I told the instructor. *Everything off.*
She stopped what she was doing, sat up and hastily removed
her shoes and socks, then rolled the leggings down to her ankles
and slid them off. She wore nothing beneath them.
*Carry on with that exercise*, I told her. I walked up to
her through the rows of aerobicisers, all of whom were now naked.
I ran my eyes down her body as she pumped her legs up and down in
a fluid, constant motion, showing no signs of strain. The view
was impressive from where I stood near her legs, looking down at
her. It was a warm summer’s day, and a fine sheen of sweat
coated her smooth, flawless skin. To quote an old cliche: I love
exercise – I could watch it all day.
“Hold it there,” I said aloud to her, when her legs were
spread apart. She froze, legs held in that position, idly gazing
up at me. An exceptionally flexible girl, I noted; her feet came
down almost to the floor.
“What’s your name?”
“Liz,” she responded. “Liz Brimley.”
“You’re feeling pretty horny right now, aren’t you, Liz?”
She nodded, swallowing.
I touched her legs, revelling in the sensation of sliding my
hands over those muscles. Her skin was soft, and lubricated with
her own sweat. I knelt and traced them all the way down to her
pussy. After stroking her clit briefly, I brushed through the
dark pubic hair and on upwards; I could smell her arousal, now.
I continued on up, across her stomach to her breasts, which were
just as firm close up as they appeared from a distance. As I
leaned forward, my cock brushed her now wet cunt through the
fabric of my shorts. Perhaps it was time to take part in this
class myself . . .
“Um, excuse me?” A nervous voice floated across the gym
from near one of the doors.
I whirled and stood up, startled at this interruption. The
speaker, visible over a mob of people lying on their backs with
their legs spread, was a short, balding man somewhere in his mid-
forties. He walked towards me. I was temporarily speechless, an
exceedingly rare condition for me.
“Ah, excuse me,” he repeated. “I, um, was just wondering
if . . . Well, if this . . .” He indicated the gym with a wave
of his hand. “If this is . . . I can’t seem to find anything
unusual about it, but I feel sure that . . . Well, I mean, is
this *proper*, do you think? I mean, should you be . . .”
“Shut up,” I told him, cutting off his ramblings. “Who the
*fuck* are you?”
“I’m Bill Chesterton. I’m the administrator of the athletic
complex, here, and I was just passing by when I looked in and
saw . . .”
“Shut up.” I was puzzled by friend Bill’s apparent
resistance. Probing him, I found a rather distracted, fuzzy
mind, cluttered with vague, shifting thoughts. His mind was so
muddled that it felt . . . well, “slippery” is the nearest word I
can find. His absentmindedness was serving him as a sort of
shield, I concluded; my orders were partially obscured in the
general static, allowing him to perceive something as being out
of the ordinary in the gym.
Well, that was all right. I’d been worried there, for a
moment, that I’d encountered a new breed of norm, somehow immune
to my influence. He had resisted – mainly by accident – a
sustaining field, but surely he could not hold out against more
direct orders?
“Bill, old buddy,” I said, putting an arm around his
shoulders. “See that young lady right there?” I indicated a
young Asian woman, lying of course with her legs spread apart.
He nodded. “I’d like you to lick her, right there between her
legs. Go ahead, Bill, lick her cunt.”
“All right.” He knelt down without hesitation and started
in on the girl.
I watched him for a moment. It occurred to me that I should
have been more cautious in ensuring my privacy – a lesson for the
future. For now, I set up additional fields, surrounding the
doors and extending out away from them in a wide semicircle,
projecting a command: *Go away, and don’t come back here before
tomorrow.*
Bill continued to slurp away, rather noisily. The girl’s
forehead furrowed slightly from time to time; her brain was
obviously beginning to have just a bit of difficulty with the
assertion that having inept oral sex performed on her by a pudgy
balding man was nothing that she ought to find unusual in an
aerobics class. These twinges were only intermittent, however,
and the rest of the time she lay there contentedly, gazing
incuriously around the room.
“Stand up, Bill,” I instructed. He did so, and stood there
looking at me. “Wet your pants.”
A dark stain spread out from the crotch of his grey slacks.
A small puddle formed on the floor as the warm liquid dripped
down his leg.
Now, what to do with Bill? Something unfortunate really
ought to happen to someone who had given me such a start, but
what? Ah . . .
“You,” I said, pointing at the Asian woman. “What’s your
name?”
“Vicky Chan.”
“Find your stuff and get dressed, Vicky.” As she moved to
do so, I turned my attention back to Bill. “Are you married,
Bill?”
“Yes.”
“Happily? Ever fool around, ever cheat?”
“No, I would never do that.”
I smiled. “Never say never, Billy. By the way, you’ve made
a bit of a mess on the floor, there. Someone ought to clean that
up, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course. The janitorial staff will . . .”
I cut him off. “Why don’t you do it? In fact, why don’t
you lick it up for me, right now?” He got down on his knees and
started lapping away.
When Vicky returned, dressed simply in grey bicycle shorts
and a black T-shirt, Bill was just getting back to his feet.
“Bill, meet Vicky, your new mistress. The two of you are
going to have an affair, starting today. Once a week you’ll get
together and have wild, passionate sex. You’ll have to hide this
from your wife, of course, and you’ll feel terribly guilty about
cheating on her, but you won’t be able to help yourself, you’ll
be so addicted to the sex.
“You’re going to spend outrageous amounts of money on Vicky,
bringing her expensive presents every time you meet, jewellery,
clothes, that sort of thing. Ask her what she wants. After
about four months, oops! Your wife is going to find out. You’ll
start to make mistakes, to make little slips that will eventually
allow her to figure out what’s going on. Do you understand?”
The two of them nodded.
I pulled Vicky aside and spoke to her separately. “Have you
got a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there’s no need for any of this to affect your
relationship with him. Don’t tell him about your sugar daddy
over there. And you’re going to enjoy fucking Bill, I promise.
No matter what he does, you’ll get very turned on and have a
terrific orgasm at the same time that he does, all right?”
I pulled Vicky over to Bill and slid her arm around his
waist. “OK you two, run along now, off to your first date. Oh,
and Bill, if this little incident doesn’t bankrupt you and break
up your marriage, pick up a hooker somewhere and do it again.
And again. And don’t go around bothering telepaths, you
miserable shit.”
I projected the standard command to them: don’t remember me,
but keep obeying the orders. The two walked away, Bill gazing
adoringly – and lustfully – at the woman clinging to him.
I turned back to Liz, who lay still in the same position.
“Stand up,” I ordered. She climbed to her feet.
“Undress me.”
I held my arms up to allow her to pull off my T-shirt. She
then unlaced my shoes and removed them, tugged off my socks, and
slid my shorts down to my ankles. I hadn’t bothered with
underwear; my erect penis bounced free as she pulled off the
shorts. All around us, like so many marionettes, the class
engaged in an elaborate mime performance, undressing an invisible
man.
“I’m pretty sexy, don’t you think? In fact, I think that
I’m about the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. You’re
unbelievably turned on just looking at me, aren’t you?”
Liz nodded, and looked me up and down, slowly. Her eyes
kept returning to my cock. Her tongue frequently darted out to
moisten her lips. I rocked my hips back and forth a bit, causing
my hard-on to swing from side to side; her eyes followed it. One
of her hands moved between her legs, and she began to stroke
herself.
When I looked around the gym, I laughed aloud; the entire
class was doing it! I had a sudden image of her trying to lead
the class members through the procedure: “Now, this next
exercise . . .”
“You’d like me to fuck you, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” I ordered.
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to touch me all over, to
touch my tits, to lick me. I want to touch your cock, to suck on
it, to feel it in my hands. I want to feel it inside me, your
long, hard cock thrusting into me. I want . . .”
I waved her to silence. “Maybe later.” For the moment, I
had other plans.
“Go get me one of those mats,” I told Liz. She jogged
gracefully over to the corner where the mats were piled. The
entire group turned and ran with her in unison, and the corner
became rather choked with bodies as the nearest people crowded
into it with her. As Liz came back bearing a mat, the class
spread out again.
I put the mat on the floor and lay down on it, projecting
commands to Liz. I had her rub her breasts over me, running her
nipples over my skin. She held herself up as though she were
doing a pushup on those strong arms, and started at my face, then
moved backwards, brushing her breasts over my chest and stomach.
As she went, she rubbed her wet, hot pussy against me, brushing
my stomach, then sliding it down my leg. She moved still lower,
and I sighed with pleasure as she rubbed those perfectly formed
tits, slick with sweat, over my already tremendously aroused
cock. Next, at my suggestion, she tickled my balls with her
thatch of pubic hair, then rubbed her bush lightly against my
cock, down at the base.
Now, norms under my influence tend to become very hesitant
about doing things that I have not specifically ordered; this is
why, for example, Liz hadn’t rushed forward and jumped me when I
was telling her to be fascinated with my body. This effect was
operating again at the moment. As she was teasing my cock,
holding herself on her arms with her back arched up – I was
enjoying the view – I could sense from Liz a very strong impulse
that she was keeping suppressed. She desperately wanted to just
slide up a ways, spread her legs and pull me inside her, despite
the risk of pregnancy or sexually transmitted disease.
I wasn’t about to allow her to give in to that particular
impulse, however. I hadn’t brought appropriate protection, and
why would I want to run the risk of messing up a killer bod like
hers with a pregnancy? There’d be plenty of time later for other
activities; I’d already decided that Liz would be coming home
with me. I have a touch of the collector’s bug in me, and she
was certainly a prize worth adding to my collection.
“Give me a blow job,” I said. The idea excited her, but
there was a twinge of disappointment as she slid her crotch away
from mine.
A long, pleasurable time later, I was still lying on the
mat, subject to Liz’s tender ministrations. She was very good at
it, especially once I gave her free rein to improvise rather than
simply following directions. I’d enlisted a couple of other
young women, too, pulled at random from the crowd, the rest of
whom were on their hands and knees, sucking and licking the air.
One girl was sucking on my nipples, teasing them with her tongue,
while the other knelt behind my head and leaned down to nibble at
my earlobes.
Liz could sense that I was close to orgasm, and she closed
her mouth over the tip of my penis and began to suck on it, hard.
My arousal built up and up, and shortly I came, crying out as the
pleasure coursed through me.
When I was young, before I had learned control of my talent,
I would tend to “leak” thoughts or emotions, especially when my
attention was distracted. On several occasions, whole apartment
buildings found themselves suddenly getting off – no doubt to the
great embarrassment of many – as I had an orgasm and projected
that intensity blindly outwards. I’ve since learned to control
it.
Here in the gym, though, I deliberately projected my
pleasure out to the crowd, so that as I came there was a rising
chorus of moans, groans and sighs as sixty-some people abruptly
climaxed simultaneously. Liz, who had already been in a highly
aroused state, had a particularly intense orgasm, bucking wildly
as she swallowed my semen.
I sat up languorously, a contented half-smile on my face. I
looked around. *Lick up anything you may have spilled, kids*, I
projected. The males dropped to all fours and started to clean
the floor with their tongues. No sense confusing the janitors
any more than necessary, I figured.
I told Liz to get dressed, and in short order the class was
once again fully clad. Time to clean up after myself a little
bit.
“Go into your cool-down routine,” I suggested. I rid the
class of their compulsion to copy her movements exactly, and told
them to forget everything that had just occurred. They would
remember an ordinary aerobics class, instead. I took down the
fields around the doors, cancelled the order to perceive nothing
unusual, and drifted to the back of the class. Standing at the
back, just watching as everyone else did cool-down stretches, I
attracted a few odd looks, which I ignored.
After a few minutes, Liz got to her feet and said, “That’s
all for today. Have a good one.” There was the traditional
post-aerobics round of applause, and the class broke up. I
smiled to myself as I heard people talking about what a good
class it had been. An exceptionally good class, from my point of
view! When the gym had mostly emptied out, I approached Liz; she
was retrieving her tapes and locking up the sound equipment.
“Ah, Ms. Brimley!” I said. “Great class, as always!”
“Thanks.”
“May I call you Liz?”
“Sure,” she said cautiously, not wanting this to turn into a
pickup attempt.
“I mean, it seems only right to be on a first name basis,
when we’ve shared so much together.” And I allowed her memory of
what had just happened in the gym to return.
Her eyes widened, and she was momentarily stunned. She then
started to take a big breath, perhaps preparing to yell something
at me.
“You’re in love with me, Liz,” I told her before she could
make a sound. “Madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with me.
You’d do anything for me, anything at all. Why don’t you come
back to my place right now? We can talk about all the fun stuff
we’re going to do together.”
She flashed that beautiful smile at me, and said, “Let’s
go.”
We left the gym together, Liz holding my hand and babbling
happily about how devoted she was to me. My mind was buzzing
with thoughts of what to do with my new plaything when we got
home.

hardcore pissing

Administrator — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 05:05:44 +0000

Piss-hard
An Erotic Story

I woke up this morning, with a piss-hard-on. This is NOT
unusual for me, as I find it harder to hold my bladder all night
long as I get older, and still ignore the call of nature in the
morning.
I turned over, and cuddled up to my wife, Marsha. At 32
years old, she is no longer the teenager’s wet-dream she was when
I first married her, but she still has a body to put most models
to shame. Even more exciting, the smooth sexy feel of her skin,
and the heady aroma of her silky long brown hair were always
enough to give me ideas, even when I don’t already have a hard-
on.
“Are you at that ‘thing’ again?” giggled Marsha, squirming
back at me, trying to trap my swollen prick between her legs,
where it would do both of us more good. Marsha may not be the
incredibly oversexed barely-pubescent little girl who had trapped
a 16-year-old into marriage, with her insatiable appetite for sex
that had swamped even me; but she still liked to fuck almost as
much as I do. Even two children, and almost nineteen years of
constant sex in marriage had only dampened her sex-drive down to
minor nymphomania. Of course, the thing that STILL amazed me
constantly, was that this incredible creature’s sex-drive all
centered on ME. I still can’t believe I’m so lucky, and I
constantly strive to let her know it.
Two minutes later, we were fucking like bunnies. After two
times the previous night, you might think we would slow down, but
why should we? Even approaching menopause hasn’t slowed my wife
down, and I don’t expect to slow down myself, until I’m at least
ninety years old. Probably not even then.
There’s one trouble with a piss-hard on though. It actually
interferes with the real thing. I couldn’t get off. Marsha was
just finishing her third orgasm, when I finally had to pull out
in disgust. The pressure from my bladder was tickling my
prostate, and interfering with my concentration. Yes,
concentration. After getting off twice the night before, and not
being particularly sexually-neglected anyway, it took some effort
on my part to work up to an orgasm. Usually, I could do this by
imagining I was fucking some cute young teenager, or even pre-
teen, like my wife had been when we first met. Marsha doesn’t
mind, sometimes even working such fantasies along with me. Only
as I said, this time it didn’t work.
My prick softened and slipped out of my wife with a soft
“slurp.” Damn, I was annoyed!
Telling my wife to, “Hold that pose,” I dashed into the
bathroom; trying to get there before the bladder-pressure made me
wet the floor. I heard Marsha giggle, as she “held that pose.”
Damn, again! For what must have been the fortieth time, I
resolved to finish the rough-in place for a second bathroom in
the basement. The bathroom was already occupied by my 16-year-
old daughter taking a shit, and I barged right in on her, as the
bathroom door had come loose several years ago, and I had never
bothered to replace it.

Since nobody in our house wears any clothes at night, it was
no surprise to see that Marie was as naked as I was. Nicely
formed breasts, and a furry “vee” showed that my daughter was
more developed than her mother had been, when she started having
sex, even though I knew Marie was still a virgin; as a couple of
times she had teased both me and her big brother by actually
showing her open crack, so we could see right up to her hymen.
Marie may not be fucking, like her mother had been doing much
younger than she was, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t interested
in sex. She just wants to save her virginity for marriage and
babies with the man she loves. (Yeah, I know it’s an old-
fashioned idea, and she doesn’t get it from her parents, but we
don’t discourage her either.)
All this to one side; my bladder pressure was so extreme, I
was about to pull over and pee in the sink, or possibly the tub,
right in front of my not-so-innocent young daughter, when she
stopped me. “Oh Daddy!” she sighed in disgust at me for not
thinking of what was obvious (to her). “Come here.”
My eyebrows went up, but I did go over to the “throne” where
Marie was just dropping a fat turd in the bowl. I knew she was
unable to get up, and for a second I wondered if she wanted me to
pee between her legs, while she sat there. Especially, once she
told me to, “Now you just ‘Use the toilet,’ like you were going
to, just as if I wasn’t here.”
I was about to actually try; hoping I could aim my prick
closely enough to not get her ALL wet, while I peed between her
legs, when my little girl leaned over, and swallowed my prick! I
couldn’t believe it. The thought of pissing between her legs,
was naughty enough, but this?
Marie looked up from where my prick was warmly ensconced in
her sexy little mouth, and mumbled, “Mmmmm, Mmmmd!” I took this
to mean something like, “Come ON! I haven’t got all day!” so I
did it. Yes, I peed in my little girl’s mouth.
Surprisingly, Marie didn’t either pull off, or force herself
forward so I could pee down her throat. She seemed to actually
ENJOY the taste of my urine on her taste-buds, and she ran her
lively little tongue around my prick, as if she was savoring the
flavor. Obviously, this was NOT the first time she had ever done
something like this, but I was not inclined to ask at the time
when she had done it before, or how many times. I just stood
there in somewhat a state of a shock, and let it flow. As I was
doing so, I heard my daughter let go a stream of her own piss.
For a moment, it seemed as though I was pissing right through my
daughter’s body. Actually, I think that was the impression my
little girl was trying to give me. Or perhaps, she liked the
idea of her father pissing though her, and it was HER turn-on.
At least I didn’t have a hard-on any more.
Only Marie didn’t stop at just drinking my piss. Once I
stopped peeing, and the last drops oozed out on her tongue, she
wrapped her sexy lips around my penis, and started sucking on me
like an experienced whore. Back and forth; up and down; with her
lively little tongue slithering around the tube on the bottom,
until I was fully erect, with a true hard-on, and not some piss-
hard imitation.

“There!” said Marie with some satisfaction, as she placed
one last kiss on the now proud paternal erection in front of her.
“Now you go back in there, and give Mom what she’s waiting for;
now that I’ve fixed you up for her.” She turned back to wiping
herself up, and starting to run the bathwater; ignoring my
shocked look. An amused glint ran through her eyes, but
otherwise she ignored me.
I sighed; grinned at my incredible young daughter, and
followed her advice; heading back for the bedroom, where Marsha
was probably still waiting impatiently. On the way, I almost ran
into my 18-year-old son Mike, (Yes, and my name is Marty
Morgan. . . People call us the “M&M’s.” And yes, it’s
deliberate.) heading for the bathroom, with a piss-hard-on of his
own, sticking out from HIS groin like a pipe sticking out of a
wall.
Mike grinned at me, when he saw his father coming OUT of the
bathroom, with as big an erection as he was going IN with. “I
see Marie got to you too, didn’t she Dad?” he remarked, before
waving me into the bedroom with Marsha. “I bet Mom needs that
pretty bad by now,” was his only other comment before vanishing
into the bathroom where his naked little sister was making
splashing noises in the tub.
Marsha was grinning when she saw the proud erection I had
brought her. This time I deliberately did NOT close the door, so
we could both listen in to the sexy squeals and yelps coming from
across the hall, while I slid in and out of my wife’s hot little
hole; and she squeezed me with a snatch that was still amazingly
tight, for a woman of her age. We both were incredibly hot; just
imagining what our two oversexed offspring were probably doing in
that tub together.
It’s amazing what two horny teenagers can do in the way of
sex-play, without actually fucking cock-in-cunt; or the boy
getting the girl pregnant. I imagined that our two kids were
probably going to explore every one of those possibilities. I
blew a thick sticky wad of sperm in my sexy wife’s belly, just
thinking about it; while she climaxed around me in a matching
orgasm.
“Whoo,” Marsha finally panted in my ear, “if our little girl
is going to get you all THAT excited, then I see I’m going to
have to have Marie warm you up a little more often, from now on!”
Well, as you can guess, I didn’t exactly disagree.