For a long moment an uncomfortable silence hung in the room, a ball of ice forming in my stomach, and probably in Cynthia’s too as Aunt Julie glared at us as we scrambled to cover ourselves with the blanket.

“Mom, I can explain.” Cynthia finally said when she was sure she was covered up.

Aunt Julie crossed her arms under her impressive bosom and leaned against the wall with a “this should be good” look on her face and made the “get on with it” hand motion.

“Well, it’s like this. I was upset over my breakup with Jason, so Brian was just trying to make me feel better.”

“With his dick?” Aunt Julie shot back looking directly at me. “You know Brian, when I promised your mother, my sister, on her deathbed that I would adopt you and raise you, this was NOT what I had in mind.”

Wow, she was laying the guilt on thick.

“Aunt Julie, it just kinda happened. It wasn’t entirely my fault, and it wasn’t entirely Cyn’s fault. It was… kind of a mutual thing.” I said.

She rolled her eyes before turning her glare back on us. “How long?”

“About a month now.” Cynthia said.

“Jesus…” she muttered under her breath. “So this whole thing started while I was out of town?”

We nodded. As she chewed on this fact the look on her face went from anger to… interest? Excitement? A little of both?

“Might as well see what we’re working with.”

She crossed the room to the bed, and without warning grabbed the covers and tossed them back exposing the both of us.

“MOM!” we both yelled at the same time.

“What are you doing?” Cynthia asked, trying to cover herself with her hands.

“If you’re going to be fucking each other, I might as well make sure you’re doing it right.”

Then, to our surprise she pulled the nightshirt off and tossed it off to the side, I’m surprised my eyes didn’t bug out like a cartoon character. Despite the fact that Aunt Julie had turned 50 a few months earlier, she had the body of a woman half her age. She certainly did not look like a woman who should have a 20 year old doppelganger of a daughter. Her body was firm and well toned due to her going to the gym twice a week. I could also see Cynthia was right about Aunt Julie’s tits. They were at least a full cup size bigger, but just as firm. She shimmied out of her panties and casually kicked them off to the side as my eyes traveled from her magnificent tits to the perfectly trimmed triangle between her legs.

“Move over.” she said to Cynthia as she crawled onto the bed and sat between us. She reached down with her right hand and grabbed my now fully erect cock, and licked a couple of fingers on her left hand and reached between Cynthia’s legs. Then she started simultaneously masturbating the both of us. I couldn’t believe it, and from the look on Cynthia’s face, neither could she. Just two minutes earlier Aunt Julie was giving us a death glare because she caught us in flagrante delicto, now she was taking charge!

I watched her massive tits jiggle as she manually pleasured the both of us. She was looking back and forth between my hard cock and her daughter’s soaking wet pussy. I reached out and tried to get as much of one of her huge tits into my hand as I could. It turned out to be not much, I would need two hands just to handle one of her magnificent melons.

She leaned down and took my cock into her mouth, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“Holy shit that feels good.” I moaned.

I couldn’t enjoy it for long though, as she turned her attention to Cynthia and started eating her daughter out, earning that kastamonu escort squeal I loved getting out of her when I went down on her.

“Holy fuck mom… I had no idea…” she gasped.

“Well you’re gonna learn.” Aunt Julie said, as I pulled myself up to a sitting position to get at her tits. She realized what I was doing and pulled me in for a kiss first. I’ll say one thing for my aunt, she had an AMAZING tongue.

“Hey, I want some of that too!” Cynthia said, sitting up as well. Aunt Julie and I disengaged and Cynthia moved in to kiss her mother while I leaned in to get as much of her tit as I could in my mouth. Again, not much (I found out later they were 40DD). But that didn’t stop me from trying. Her nipple stood out like a pencil eraser as I teased it with my tongue.

“I knew something was going on between you two.” She said when she and Cynthia broke their kiss.

“How did you know?” Cynthia asked.

“I’m your mother, I know everything.” Aunt Julie said, “The looks you two would give each other when you thought I wasn’t looking. The flushed look on your faces. How much closer you two have been. So, now that I know the full story, I want to see what you two know. I mean if you’ve been at it for a month, you’ve done more than just fuck, right?”

“Oh, we’ve done a lot more than just fuck.” I said, smiling, glancing over at Cynthia.

“Oh, really?” Aunt Julie asked, raising her eyebrows, “So you know how to eat pussy then?”

“Oh believe me mom,” Cynthia said, “He doesn’t need any help in that area.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” Aunt Julie said, laying down on my bed and spreading her legs, “Show me, Brian. Eat your mommy’s pussy.”

“Yes ma’am.” I said practically diving between her legs.

Just like I normally did for Cynthia, I started out by teasing Aunt Julie’s clit with my tongue before gently sucking it in my mouth and continuing to flick my tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub. She tasted just as sweet as her daughter. I earned a throaty growl of pleasure from Aunt Julie as Cynthia ran her tongue over her mother’s erect nipples. Then as I teased her pussy lips, I easily slid first one, then two fingers deep inside her, getting a moan of pleasure in return.

“You’re right honey,” Aunt Julie gasped, “He doesn’t need any help at all, and neither do I, come here. Sit on mommy’s face.”

Cynthia positioned herself on Aunt Julie’s face and again squealed in pleasure as her mother started licking her pussy. For a long time, the only sound in my room were the moans of Cynthia and her mother and the sound of my fingers squishing in and out of Aunt Julie’s soaking wet pussy.

“Oooh, mommy, that feels so good,” Cynthia moaned. “Brian, I think you… oh fuck… you have some… *squeal*… competition.”

It was rude to talk with my mouth full, so I didn’t say anything. I did however reach up and gently pinch one of Cynthia’s firm butt cheeks before grabbing one of Aunt Julie’s tits gently pinching her nipple, earning a moan from between Cynthia’s legs.

“Oh fuck… that’s it… keep doing that…” Aunt Julie moaned. “Keep eating mommy’s pussy… that’s it… that’s it… I’m almost there… yesyesyesyesyes… I’m cumming…”

A squeal followed by what can best be described as a roar of pleasure let loose from my aunt’s mouth as her orgasm hit with all the intensity of a freight train. Her body bucking so hard I thought she was going to throw all three of us off the bed. My mouth was flooded with so much pussy kayseri escort juice I thought I was going to drown.

“I’m cumming too mommy,” Cynthia gasped, the sight and sound of me making her mother cum triggered her own orgasm, and her whole body shuddered. She grabbed the headboard of my bed to steady herself and let loose with a scream of pleasure as she came.

“Holy shit…” she gasped when her orgasm subsided. Cynthia slowly crawled off her mother’s face and lay down next to her.

I sat up and looked down at the two of them. Just a few months ago I used to joke I couldn’t get laid in a women’s prison with a fistful of pardons, and now here I was fucking not just two incredibly hot women, but two incredibly hot women that I considered my mother and sister.

“Now I see where you get it from.” I said to Cynthia, then I looked down at Aunt Julie, “But I think our mother needs to get fucked.”

“Oh, most definitely,” Cynthia said.

“Oh, you think you can handle me Brian?” Aunt Julie challenged me.

“Let’s find out.” I said mounting my Aunt and sinking my cock into her wet, warm folds.

“Show me what you got baby.” Aunt Julie said when I was all the way inside her, “Fuck me like you fucked my little girl.”

I obliged and started slamming my cock into my Aunt’s juicy pussy while I looked deep into her eyes before she pulled me in for a kiss, her tongue going as deep into my mouth as my cock was going into her pussy.

“Is that all you got?” she said through gritted teeth. “Come on, fuck your mother’s hot wet cunt! Show me what you got baby!”

Challenge accepted. I saw Cynthia out of the corner of my eye lick her fingers and start masturbating next to us leaning over to tease one of mom’s massive tits. I braced myself on the bed and started slamming my cock even harder and faster into Aunt Julie’s pussy. The sound of our hips slamming into each other bouncing off the walls, combined with the three of us moaning and groaning in wordless pleasure.

Aunt Julie wrapped her legs around me and screamed in pleasure as I realized I was making my Aunt cum again!

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck… I’m cumming again…” Aunt Julie’s orgasm made the whole bed shake and I felt her pussy contract around my still pumping cock. The look on her face was all I needed.

“I’m cumming… oh god mom, I’m cumming.” I groaned.

“That’s it baby, cum inside me, I want to feel you explode in my cunt. Fuckin’ cum inside me, Brian!”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Now it was my turn to fill the room with a loud roar of release as I exploded inside Aunt Julie. I threw my head back and grunted as each jet of cum shot out of me and into my sexy aunt. Cynthia was also writhing in pleasure as she also hit her peak, her fingers buried all the way in her soaking wet pussy.

I slowly pulled out of Aunt Julie and collapsed on the bed next to her, my semi erect cock soaked with her juices. Cynthia leaned over and licked it clean for me, trying to suck some life back into it, but I was spent for the time being.

“Mmm… mommy you taste good.” She said. “Even better when I get to lick your pussy juice off my big brother’s cock.”

For a long moment the three of us just lay there in post orgasmic bliss. A sweaty pile of sexually satisfied flesh, Aunt Julie sandwiched between Cynthia and myself.

Finally Aunt Julie broke the silence. “Well looks like I don’t have much to teach you. It seems to me you’ve got everything figured out.”

“Does that mean kıbrıs escort we’re not gonna do this anymore?” Cynthia asked, disappointment in her voice.

“Fuck no!” Aunt Julie said, “We’re gonna do this a lot more! If you think for one second I’m gonna let you keep that cock all to yourself, you’ve got another thing coming… or should that be ‘cumming’? I don’t care if you two continue to fuck each other, just keep in mind you don’t have to hide it from me anymore, and I might want to join in.”

“Oh, sure twist my arm,” I joked, “I have to share my incredibly hot cousin with my equally hot aunt. How horrible. All the sex I want, whenever I want.”

“Yes, what a tortured existence you lead.” Cynthia quipped. “Speaking of which, you think you can get it up again? After all you were fucking me before we were interrupted and I intend to finish what we started.”

“I’ll get him up for you baby.” Aunt Julie said, reaching between my legs for my cock. “Maybe there are a few things I can teach you.”

We adjusted our positions on the bed so that Aunt Julie and Cynthia were between my legs. Using just her tongue and fingernails Aunt Julie gently teased my cock and balls, bringing my spent cock back to life explaining to Cynthia what she was doing. To my surprise I was hard again in just a couple of minutes. Cynthia and Aunt Julie then took turns sucking my cock, passing it back and forth like a party favor.

“I’m not the only one who’s got competition.” I gasped to Cynthia. “Mom sucks cock just as good as you do.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” Aunt Julie said as Cynthia climbed up and impaled herself on my cock, getting into the same position we were in when Aunt Julie had caught us earlier.

Without a word she started riding me for all she was worth, not worried about holding back as her mother was sitting right next to her, watching with pride as we fucked right in front of her. Aunt Julie crawled up and sat on my face as Cynthia continued to bounce up and down on my cock. I looked up Aunt Julie’s body to her gorgeous tits watching them jiggle as I started licking her pussy again.

The room was filled with the moans of both women as one rode my cock and the other rode my face for several minutes. Finally I exploded inside Cynthia, my moans muffled by Aunt Julie’s pussy. Within moments of my orgasm subsiding, Aunt Julie’s hit and she again tried to drown me in pussy juice. I swallowed as much as I could, but I could feel it running down my chin and along the sides of my face. She and Cynthia were nice enough to lick my face clean.

I must have drifted off after that because the next thing I remember it was the next morning, Cynthia’s naked body next to me in the bed, but Aunt Julie must have gone back to her own room because she was nowhere to be seen.

“Cyn?” I nudged her with my elbow.

“Huh? Wha? Brian…” her eyes shot open and she sat up, “Oh, my god, Brian. Last night… did that actually happen?”

“I hope so, because either we both had the same dream about Aunt Julie walking in on us and then joining in, or yeah, that actually did happen.” I said.

As if on cue, Aunt Julie walked into the room wearing nothing but a smile. “You bet your sweet ass it happened, and it’ll happen again. Now, who wants breakfast?”

After that, the three of us had sex at least twice a day, sometimes it would just be Cynthia and myself, but most of the time two of us would start with the third joining in later. We fucked all over the house, my room, Cynthia’s room, Aunt Julie’s room, the living room… you get the idea.

A few months later Cynthia found a new boyfriend (one of my buddies actually, and no, i didn’t tell him about Cynthia and I), and a couple months after that I found a new girlfriend. That doesn’t mean the sex at home stopped, in fact we joked that the sex between Cynthia, Aunt Julie and I was “practice”.

After all, practice makes perfect.

Chapter III: The Streets Dawn

Friday. The Lisa emerging from the elevator and opening her apartment door wore the same gold minidress and matching shoes, the same lurid makeup as the one who’d left the building at ten the evening before. But she wasn’t the same, at least in her own mind.

She’d done too many things in the intervening eight hours that could never be undone, even if she wanted to. She suspected that there’d be times in the weeks and years to come that’d she’d wish, with all her heart, that it was possible to undo them. But, at the moment, she had no regrets.

She flopped limply onto the sofa, still wearing the broad, bitter scarlet smile she’d worn throughout the night. She unbuckled her tall sandals, kicked them carelessly under the coffee table. She’d fucked three total strangers. She’d been whimsically selective about it, but not choosing her suitors from those wearing the most expensive clothes, or offering the most money. Rather, she’d been moved by needs she hadn’t bothered to name, and discovered her motives only after the fact.

She snicked open her purse, brought out cigarettes and a wad of cash. Three hundred and fifty bucks. About a week’s normal take-home pay. Normal. Strange word. What was it going to mean from now on?

She lit a smoke, stared at the money with sharp, cold eyes. It was well earned. She let the memories replay themselves, savoring each detail. The harshness vanished from her face, was replaced by a wistful dreaminess.

The first guy had really gotten off on her lips. That’s why she’d gone with him. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her slick red mouth, had damned near creamed his slacks when she’d deliberately, slowly, repainted it for him before leaving the bar. She refused to let him kiss her, ruin her perfection, but she mercilessly teased him with it, made her words languorous, kept her face mere inches from his, and drove him mad.

She knew he wanted to fuck it, and she wanted him to. His cock hadn’t been as big as Wilson’s, had slid down her throat like a candy cane made of hot flesh, with an ease that had both astonished and gratified her. She was naturally good at this.

It’d been strangely curved, too. At least she’d assumed it was strange. She really only had two to compare it to, since she couldn’t remember anything about Tommy’s. When he shot off, she’d been ready, had captured every mote as she worked her lips and licked his balls with her painfully distended tongue. She had her own orgasm, without ever even touching her gushing cunt.

The second was a big, ugly bruiser who could have passed for somebody’s hired muscle, had it not been for his thousand dollar suit and refined speech. He instantly saw through her bluff and read her inexperience. An eager, innocent slut. That’s what got him off. When he called her on it, she admitted the truth – this was her first night on the street, and she loved what she was doing. He had her mount him, ride a cock so massive that she’d seriously wondered if she could spread herself wide enough to take it.

She could, of course. She watched, enthralled, as her hairless snatch parted, swallowed it inch by inch, stroke by stroke penetrating her further than anything ever had. She’d come twice before he finally filled the rubber with sperm, ballooning its reservoir to the bursting point.

The last one was some rich kid from the burbs, slumming in his Dad’s BMW, acting like he knew the score. The poor bastard was terrified, and, it turned out, a virgin bent on getting deflowered. She’d been more than happy to oblige. The first time was shitty, way too quickly finished for her to get off with him. But she let him watch her finger-fuck herself for another fifty bucks. Watching his cock slowly refill with blood as she rolled her clit and dipped sharp crimson nails into her wetness had provided them both with an incredible rush of lust. The second fuck had been a freebie, and, in some ways, the best of the night.

Lisa groaned and stretched, watched the hem of the dress rise to nearly bare her tired, sore pussy, admired the dark slash of the garter strap on her white flesh. She swung her legs apart, made her exposure complete. Her lower lips were reddened, still slightly puffy. Ever so gently, she explored herself, felt the warm fuzziness seep back into her. She sighed heavily and stopped, wondering, with something approaching sadness, if she would ever get enough cock, if this need would ever abate.

She rose, moved into the bedroom, watched herself peel away her new uniform, and searched her soul for shame. There was none. She saw her dark red lips downturn in the mirror. But there was something different. Something much deeper than the makeup and straight, jet black hair.

She stepped nearer the glass, peered into the blue eyes surrounded by heavy black borders. Something was missing from her, something she’d lived with for so long it’d become a part of her. There was an emotional hole, but it remained unidentifiable as she stripped off her makeup, clicked izmit escort off the lights, and padded her way to the bed.

Sleep came almost instantly, and claimed her until five that afternoon. She awoke groggy, sluggish, as she always did when she slept during the day. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the kitchen that she recalled the why of her inverted schedule.

Her shuffling steps faltered. It was too dreamlike. Despite the tenderness between her legs, the stretched web beneath her tongue, and her hooked red fingernails, it took the reality of the pile of cash on the coffee table to convince her she hadn’t dreamed it. How could she feel so fucking normal?

She shrugged it off as the water dripped through the ground coffee beans, and set about her usual wake-up routine. After her first cup of brew, she ran through her exercises. Fresh coffee in hand, she showered away the sweat – as well as the residue of last night’s hair color and sex, she realized with a trace of regret. She grinned into the spray of hot water. There was plenty more where that came from.

She spent hours redoing her hair and makeup, refining her image a little, and lounged, nude and nervous, until it was time to prepare for the night’s work. It would be vastly different tonight. She wasn’t just a whore, she was a cop, too. She was going to go out there and bust her sisters and men who could have been her customers. Her excitement at actually, finally, acting like a police officer warred with her awakened sexuality.

She scowled. The painted slut in the mirror scowled back. What a fucking hypocrite. She always had been, though. This was nothing new. She’d always been a judgmental, compassionless two-faced bitch. She savagely sucked a cigarette to life. The only difference was that now she was admitting it.

Her self-hatred wasn’t complete, however. Something else nagged at her and built until it eventually got her attention. It was the same nameless feeling that had puzzled her the night before, but this time its identity became clear.

Justice. Vindication. These had always been important to her. Still, it was unnerving to realize that the emotional void she’d noted was just that. The scales were somehow being balanced. A part of her had been aware of her guilt ever since the “rape.” She’d made it a part of herself. It had ruled her ever since, by way of celibacy and hatred of victimizers. She’d become a cop because she couldn’t send a boy to jail. He’d been unreachable. Others wouldn’t be.

Now, she was making reparations, in a twisted way. She couldn’t undo what she’d done in the past, but she could punish herself for wanting to do it.

Her scarlet laugh was bitter, cruel. She blew smoke. “See?” she whispered throatily. “See, Tommy? See, Daddy? You were right. I was wrong. I hope this helps a little.”

Then she stalked out, dampening all feeling, making herself as emotionally numb as whores – and policewomen – had to be. She was early, and caused quite a stir at the precinct. The guys reacted openly to what they assumed was a disguise. They whistled, called out obscene suggestions. She posed for them. She flirted shamelessly, mimicked the actions of the streetwalkers they saw brought in every night of the week. They knew she was mocking herself, but misunderstood the why of it. They laughed uproariously, amazed by her new relaxation, her willingness to play.

Lisa the tight-assed, humorless rookie, always serious, always staid, was dead and buried. Fuck it, she thought, sitting on a lap and wiggling her ass, then making a quick escape. Might as well have a good time.

Other female officers straggled in, displaying varying degrees of discomfort in their whore’s weeds. She pulled back a notch, reined herself in. She’d been dangerously close to the edge, much closer than anyone knew. Her gut felt hollow, her cunt damp. A part of her wanted to let everyone know who she really was. A part of her wanted to lay down on the booking counter and spread her legs and take on all the boys in blue who wanted a piece. With effort, she made herself go to the corner where the other women were clumping.

She felt out of place. She lit a cigarette, leaned against a wall, quieted her hammering heart. Another woman, someone Lisa didn’t recognize, wearing a scanty blue halter top and black leather skirt, joined her.

“Got an extra smoke?”

She shook one out, silently welcoming the distraction. “I’m Lisa Cole.”

“I know. Sergeant Trotter. Vice.”

“Ah. You’ve done this kind of thing before. I wondered why you looked so . . .”

“Comfortable? Yeah. I guess it’s pretty much old hat for me by now. But you don’t look too scared, either. Why’s that?”

Lisa covered her stab of panic with the cigarette. “I am. I just hide it better than most, I guess.”

“Come on, Cole,” she jibed quietly. The nervous tittering surrounding them made it as intimate as a whisper. “Get real, okay? It’s kind of a turn-on, isn’t it? I’ve seen it bodrum escort before. Some girls get a real rush out of duty like this. Gives them a chance to loosen up and be women for a change.” The wizened eyes speared her, read her too well.

“Is that the way it is for you?” Asking a question seemed her only defense. Besides, she was curious.

“It was, my first few times,” the sergeant openly confided. “I’d always kind of wondered what it was like, you know? I was always curious about everything good girls weren’t supposed to do.” She shrugged. Her tits bounced. “Now, hell, it’s just a part of the job. I get dressed and go to work. No big deal.”

But she eyed Lisa through their cloud of mutual smoke. “It takes special people to do this right. Most of these girls won’t fool anybody who knows the streets. You, though, you’re different.”

Captain Wilson appeared, with the Vice officer she’d seen him closeted with the day before. Lisa’s cold sweat began to dry. Trotter smelled something wrong. She diverted her eyes to the senior officers, praying for the bitch to get lost in the crowd.

They led the way into the squad room and spelled out the night’s drill. The women were paired, teamed with plainclothes backups, and assigned territories. It was a typical sweep operation, one everyone knew wouldn’t really accomplish a damned thing. The women would pop a few johns. The guys would haul them in, along with a few working girls. Everybody would make bail by Monday morning. It wouldn’t make any difference – but the papers would report it, and the public would be appeased for a while.

But that didn’t make it any less of a high for Lisa. The night was a non-stop blur of excitement. The gun weighed heavily in her purse. Stalking the downtown streets, rubbing elbows with real whores – other real whores, that is – made her feel as cheap and sleazy as they were. She watched. She learned. She paraded herself, just like they did. She leaned into car windows, showing off her tits, licking her slick red lips, making them negotiate a price.

She rode away in their cars into the night, heart hammering. Only the fact that she was always followed by unmarked cars kept her from sneaking a blow job or a down-and-dirty quick fuck for a buck.

She was a little surprised that busting the poor fuckers was such a turn-on. Taking them right to the edge, being careful not to entrap them or compromise the arrest in any way, was like foreplay. Their horror or outrage or bleak fear, when they realized what was really happening, was almost, in some ways, as good as fucking them would have been.

It filled her with a sense of power, similar to what she’d experienced the night before. It was the opposite side of the same coin. She was in complete control. She was free to act as slutty as she knew how – in fact, the nastier, the better – yet she dominated them. They were there to indulge themselves, to wallow in their superiority as much as in her pussy. To totally turn the tables on them, to watch them crumble before her, left her breathless.

Until exactly two-forty-five a.m, fifteen minutes from the end. Until the kid in the restored beige Caddie grinned sheepishly at her hard nipples, looked straight into her passion-heavy eyes, instead of at their glittering gold eye shadow, and asked her her name. None of the others had done that. Eye contact seemed to be something to be avoided, and names were cumbersome, useless baggage. This kid was different. The hard knot of her excitement loosened. She heard her words tumble from her mouth without being aware of deciding to speak them.

“Look, kid. You’re after something special, right? Not just a sloppy head job in an alley. If you can go a c-note, meet me in front of the drugstore at Twelfth and Ash in two hours. Sound good?”

“I don’t know. That’s a lot of money.”

“Believe me, honey, I’ll make it worth every penny.”

He cruised off. She turned, shrugged at her partner and the black pro who’d been watching. “He just wanted to look. Probably go home and jack off, pretending his hand’s my face.” Her throat felt clogged with need. She prayed he’d be there.

She got there ten minutes late. She’d rushed through the paperwork that wouldn’t wait and had been on her way out the door when Wilson had snagged her. Her eagerness to get out of there had made his shape in the shadows of the door invisible.

“Hey, baby,” he’d sneered quietly. “Got time for a quickie?”

A rude, coarse rejection shaped itself on her lips, but she choked it back. “It’s been a long night, Cap.”

“Come on, Cole. You forgetting what I went through to get you in on this? The least you can do is show your gratitude.”

The message couldn’t have been more clear. Unless she wanted to go back to riding a desk, she’d have to fuck him, right now.

She lit another cigarette, smiled the smile she’d been using all night. “Come on,” she drawled. “I guess a dose of come really would feel pretty good right alanya escort now.”

She led the way around the side of the building, listened to the harsh click of her heels on the pavement, heard the softer pad of his steps not far behind. She established herself in the shadow of a dumpster, amidst a jumble of empty crates and boxes.

“You did good tonight, Cole. You’ve got a knack for this sort of thing.”

She faced the wall, leaned over a rough wooden box, held her cigarette in her mouth as she lifted her dress. He didn’t know the half of it. “Come on, baby. Stick it in there. I need it at least as much as you do.”

He was already hard. He gasped as he rammed her. “You shaved your cunt.”

She bucked against him, drove him all the way home in one quick move. Her own voice shook perilously. “I did it for you. Like it?”

“Oh, yeah.” He showed her just how much. He grabbed her hips, pounded her from behind until the force of his thrusts made her snap the cigarette in half as she scrabbled for a better grip.

He was uncharacteristically quick. When he blew his come into her, it felt like a jet of white hot lava. Without warning, she felt her vaginal walls begin their rhythmic milking contractions. She had to bite her arm to block her shout of raw joy. He jerked himself out before she was through, left her gasping weakly on the crate.

His laugh was cold. “Shit, Cole. I feel like I ought to leave you some money.”

“No sweat, Cap,” she managed. “You already paid me. Thanks.”

He sauntered off, left her fighting for her breath, his come running down her legs, still laying face down on the splintery box.

She pulled herself together, hurried as much as she was able. At least he hadn’t fucked up her makeup. She was able to fix her bitten lips and mop up most of his sperm at a stoplight.

The Cadillac was there. The kid’s shadow was ramrod stiff behind the wheel in the glare of her headlights. She was fairly steady on her feet as she walked to his window.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he said, almost apologetically. “I’ve got the money.”

“Great, honey. I knew I could count on you. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since you left.”

He relaxed a little. “Really?”

“Really. I knew right away you were someone special. Do you have somewhere we can go?”

The nerves returned. “Well, I don’t live too far away.”

She followed. Her anticipation had returned. this was going to be something extraordinary. Just how she knew that, she couldn’t say. Until she saw his living room walls, covered with heavy metal posters. Women in leather and chains, scowling defiantly down at him. Until the deference he’d shown her resolved into abject submission, and she felt herself swelling on the inside. Until she’d commanded him to strip and lay down with his hands above his head and snapped her well-used handcuffs around his slim wrists, with the chain looped through the headboard. Her lust verged upon rage as she sank onto his short, fat cock, glaring cruelly down into his terrified eyes.

She felt herself slip over some precipitous cliff within her secret inner landscape. She felt crazed as she plummeted into its unsuspected depths. She slapped him, hard, across each side of his face, and his fear vanished, became pure gratitude. He babbled non-stop as she fucked him. He raved feverishly as she pinched his nipples with long, sharp nails. He came, even though she’d ordered him not to. She slapped him even more viciously, stinging her palms, then slid up and covered his face with her dripping pussy, smothered him until he began lapping his – and Wilson’s – sperm from her hole.

She cursed him, mocked him savagely as he drank himself and another man from her fountain. She made sure he knew it wasn’t just his jism he was eating. And he loved it. She added her own come to his meal, bending back to use her nails to finger his ass as she squirmed on his wet face.

He cried like a baby when she told him he’d gotten all he’d paid for. He pled with her to stay longer. He didn’t have any more cash, but she could take anything he had if she’d use a dildo in a bedside drawer to ass-fuck him.

Instead, she demanded that he be home the same time the next night – with another hundred bucks. If she felt like it, she’d fuck his ass then. But he had to be a good little bitch, or she’d just make him suck her store of come and leave.

She was fishing through her purse for her handcuff key. Her hand was shaking wildly. Her cunt felt like it owned her. She encountered her lipstick and the key at the same moment. Before unlocking him, she spread a thick coat of brilliant red over his lips.

A slut like he was should always wear lipstick, she told him, again straddling his face. Grabbing his hair, she smeared his pretty little mouth against her oozing slit. He was still crying as she freed his wrists and marched out the door.

On the long drive home, her all-consuming madness began to fade, was replaced by something that felt like an emotional nausea. The vision of the young man, weeping helplessly, lipstick smeared all over his face, became repulsive. She’d done something unspeakable, something depraved. She’d emasculated him as thoroughly as if she’d taken a straight razor and sliced off his cock. And she’d adored doing, with a horrid joy that haunted her.

As I lean against the doorway, I watch Eric prepare this evening’s dinner before our four guests arrive. Usually I offer to help, but this time I just want to observe him.

He looks so sensual when cooking a meal—earthy, passionate, and focused. He seduced me with his culinary skills when we began dating and now I have a conditioned reflex to sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen—both my mouth and pussy drool uncontrollably.

The air in the kitchen is slightly humid from the steam rising from the simmering pots. The smell of garlic and vegetables sautéing in the skillet overwhelms my senses. With a Brazilian jazz groove playing in the background I samba my way to the counter, swaying my hips to capture his attention. Eyeing a plate of assorted fruit, I pick up an apple slice and bite into it enjoying its crisp, tart taste.

As I sip the chilled Sauvignon Blanc from my wine glass, decadent images swirl through my mind. I envision my legs wrapped around him as he thrusts my backside against the hot oven range to demonstrate how he stuffs a tender, juicy hen. Steam surrounds us as he plunges himself into me vigorously, banging his hips into the stove and jolting liquid from the bubbling pots.

With this in mind I sashay over to him slowly, where he stands facing the stove. He glances over to me and acknowledges my flirtation with a smile, but his concentration is quickly drawn back to the gurgling pot. He doesn’t like to be disturbed while cooking and he senses that it’s my intention to distract him from his work.

“Oooh, I want to taste.” I say. I skim my palm across his broad shoulders and then rest it against the center of his back. He dips a spoon into the pungent sauce and then holds it up to my lips. Gazing into his eyes, I open my mouth to accept his offering. “Mmmmm, so delicious,” I say, with a purr. “What else can I nibble on?” I ask, pressing my chest against him.

“You’ll have to wait for dinner,” he insists, as he stirs the glazed vegetables intently. I slide my hand down his spine and tug on the waistband of his trousers. “In front of our guests?” I ask. “That will make interesting dinner conversation.” He throws me a stern look in an effort to discourage my mischievous behavior. “Not now, Jenna,” he says, firmly.

Undaunted, my hand slinks down the curve of his ass and in between his meaty thighs. “I can’t wait, Eric,” I insist, as my fingertips graze his balls. “I need your cock inside me now.” He jerks his hips away from me in protest, determined to complete his task. I smile as I notice the bulge growing in the front of his pants, for it discloses his true desire in spite of his objection.

“Fine, I’ll take care of this myself,” I reply, feigning acquiescence. I sweep behind him to an adjoining counter where a ceramic jug holds various cooking utensils. I choose his favorite tool, an expensive well-crafted spatula with a ribbed plastic handle and a flat metal edge.

Pleased with my selection, I stroll over to the spacious counter top behind him, turn myself around and then hop onto it. The hard polished granite feels cool against my bottom and thighs as I slide myself backward.

I pull my knee-length skirt up to my waist to unveil my bare pussy and then lean back onto my elbows resting against the surface. With my feet flat on the countertop and my knees bent upward, I look down at my legs and view the stunning contrast of my milky white skin against the sleek black granite.

My fingers stroke the neatly trimmed fur along my lips feeling the slick moisture between them. Unaware of my presence, Eric mixes and stirs his savory dishes while humming to a sultry tune floating overhead.

As I watch him, I rub the spatula’s handle up and down my slick pussy to the beat of the soulful rhythm. I’m mesmerized by the intense pleasure of the ribbed plastic massaging my ample clit and the erotic sound of it sloshing against my wet flesh.

My eyelids become heavy as I yield to my sensual impulse and drift into a blissful trance. I ease the tip of the rounded handle into my tight, yet receptive cavern. My molten walls hug the contoured rod as it glides in and out of me. Feeling myself edge closer to climax, I slow my pace to sustain my pleasure.

At the moment I open my eyes, I see Eric turn away from the stove holding a steaming skillet. Noticeably shocked by my brazen self-indulgence, lara escort he nearly spills the contents of his saucepan onto the floor.

His discovery of me sends an electric charge to my pussy. “I’m going to come,” I groan.

He slams the pan onto the stove. “Don’t you dare!” He says, as he storms over to me.

But it’s too late. I’m overcome with waves of pleasure swelling deep within me; and his fierce, lustful expression flings me into oblivion. My moans quicken with urgency as I buck against the plunging wand intent on gratifying my wanton appetite.

Furious with my unruly behavior, he grabs the spatula out of my fist. As my fingers reach down to rub my throbbing clit, he swats my hand with the spatula.

“Stop!” he orders, thwarting my aim. “Place your arms above your head.”

I frown at him for denying me another orgasm, but consent to a submissive pose.

He glares down at me and shakes his head to convey his dissatisfaction. “This is very bad, Jenna,” he says, as he sniffs the handle coated with my fragrant juices. “Treating my prized spatula as your sex toy,” he continues, while tapping the flat edge against his hand. “I’m not pleased.”

“It surpasses its reputation,” I say, with an errant smile.

“Silence!” he shouts, smacking the metal against the counter. “Do not speak,” he warns, pointing the spatula at me.

I wince, somewhat agitated yet incredibly turned on by his forceful demeanor. I’m aware that he’s enjoying this role, but I’m not certain how far he’ll take it.

“You need to be taught some discipline before our guests arrive,” he insists. “And I expect your complete obedience,” he adds, with a raised brow daring me to challenge him. I affect my best expression of a wayward maiden pleading with her tempestuous lover for mercy.

His eyes scan the length of my body from my legs up to my chest. He stops my nipples spiking against the thin white fabric of my camisole top and sighs with disgust. “Even in submission, your tits reveal your naughtiness,” he says. I struggle to remain composed as he scrapes the edge of the spatula against my hard nipples.

“Pull your shirt up,” he orders. I draw up my shirt bunching the material above my jutting breasts and then lay my pale arms back against the dark granite slab. A shiver ripples through my body as I anticipate his next move.

“So swollen,” he observes, tapping my plump breasts with the spatula to make them jiggle. “And I haven’t begun to punish you yet.” My rosy nipples stretch toward him, aching to feel his mouth wrap around them, flicking and tugging at their sensitive tips.

Instead, he saunters over to the container of utensils. He studies each one, carefully selecting which design will produce the most torment. “It will be a shame for our guests to see you like this, Jenna,” he says. “But you’ve given me no choice.” I bite my lip as I watch him walk toward me and then place a few menacing tools next to my feet.

“Bend your legs up to your chest,” he instructs, motioning with a black plastic spatula. I raise my knees against my chest exposing my round bottom and pink glistening pussy to his unblinking eyes. He clears his throat and lifts his gaze to meet mine.

“You do realize that our guests will be showing up any minute, expecting to be served a meal?” He asks.

I nod my head with a slight grin on my face. It’s all he needs to invoke a swift, firm smack against my left butt cheek.

“Whap!” I hear the glorious sound of the spatula striking my bare skin and feel the invigorating sting that renders me helpless to my lust.

“How can I prepare dinner when you’re fucking my cooking utensils?” He asks, in a raised voice. A clever retort comes to mind, but I refrain from voicing it.

He detects a glimmer of sarcasm in my eyes. Without hesitation, he strikes my right butt cheek with more force in his swing. I feel a stream of juices dripping from my pussy down my ass. He notices it too.

“Are you enjoying this, Jenna?” He asks, in an accusatory tone.

I shake my head to convey that I’m not.

“Speak up!” he commands, slapping my left butt cheek again with the spatula.

“No,” I say, firmly, which encourages a smack against my right thigh.

“Your pussy is showing me otherwise,” he remarks, staring at my wet, quivering flesh. “Tell gebze escort me the truth.”

I cast him a defiant look. “I Said NO!” Another slap strikes just below my pussy. I moan from the exhilarating sting.

“Come on, Jenna, admit it!” He says.

I stare at him without speaking. He whacks me again; the tip of rubber spatula grazes my pussy lips. I spread my bent legs wider apart to expose more of my cunt to his taunting slaps.

“My wicked nymph,” he says. With each strike, he inches closer to my clit. “You like this, don’t you?”

“No,” I insist, twitching from the sublime torture. His self-control and mastery of my pleasure pushes me to test my willpower.

“You can’t get enough of it,” he says, thumping my flushed clit that’s budding between my swollen lips.

“Unh,” I grunt, shaking my head in protest. My pussy spasms as the rubber paddle swats my sensitized flesh. A familiar dazed look in my eyes suggests an impending climax, which he’s intent on hindering.

“Tell me!” He insists, but does not strike this time. He’s going to make me beg for it.

“Nooo,” I say. My body is aching for release, but I’m not ready to give in just yet.

“Say it!” He orders, smacking the spatula hard against the counter.

“Please,” I whimper. My bottom lifts up to reach for his hand, betraying my protestations.

He bangs the plastic wand against the surface, each strike louder and landing closer to my body. I writhe and groan from the tantalizing sound, slipping readily into concession.

“Tell me how much you want it!” He says.

“Yes.” I mutter, as I reach my breaking point.

“Louder!” He demands, smacking my ass with a quick stroke.

“Yes,” I shout, as he slaps my sopping wet pussy again and again. “I Love It!”

“That’s better,” he says, seeming pleased to have conquered my insolence. He examines the spatula shimmering with my juices. “Now what are we going to serve our guests?” He asks.

Nearly undone, my droopy eyes blink open and I remain voiceless as I try to catch my breath.

“Perhaps I should spread you out on the dinner table and invite our guests to feast on you,” he suggests.

I peer down my chest at him standing above my parted legs and catch sight of his lascivious gaze. We recently confessed to each other a sexual attraction to our near-to-arrive dinner guests—two globe-trotting couples we’ve befriended in our Italian language class.

“Your breasts will make a tasty appetizer to nibble on,” he says, as he brushes the spatula’s edge against them.

My eyes sparkle and my nipples perk up at his alluring proposition.

“Do you think your pussy will satisfy their discriminating appetites?” He asks, as he presses my bowed legs further apart to get a better view.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s delicious.” My fluttering clit nods in agreement.

“Dave and Veronica are partial to exotic dishes,” he says. “Shall we allow them the first taste?”

“Mmmm. Yes,” I say, moaning at the suggestion of their fluent tongues lapping my pussy.

“You’ll need to be much wetter than this,” he insists, while he studies my pussy. “Turn over.”

I roll over onto my stomach and slither down the counter top. His large hands grab my hips and pull me toward him. As I settle into a comfortable position, he slides my skirt above my arched bottom. I look back and notice him pick up a wide, slotted spatula made of metal. With a sigh, l rest my forehead against my crossed arms.

Without warning he strikes my ass with the spatula, which delivers a penetrating sting to my sensitive flesh. I yelp at the abrupt force of it and then breathe into the tingling sensation.

“Show me how you’ll come for them,” he commands.

“Yes, baby,” I respond, wiggling my hips. “Harder.”

He slaps my tender ass with vigor. “I want to see your juices drip down Veronica’s chin,” he insists.

“I’ll come all over her face,” I reply, raising my ass to show him my thighs slick with cream. I hear him unzip his trousers and gasp as he frees his hard, aching cock from the denim barrier. Even he cannot contain his primal response to the rear view of my succulent pussy.

“Are you hungry, Jenna?” He asks, as his thick cockhead pokes my ass.

“Oh, yes,” I groan. “I’m so hungry.”

“Whose cock do you want in didim escort your mouth?” He asks, with a husky tone in his voice. “Dave’s or Peter’s?”

“Both.” I say, pressing my supple bottom against him. “I want both cocks in my mouth.”

“What a doting hostess you are,” he replies, swatting my ass. “You want them to come for you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, engrossed in the fantasy. “I want Peter to come on my tits while Dave shoots his cum down my throat.”

His stiff cock bobs between my butt cheeks. “You’re such a slut,” he responds, slapping my inner thigh. “What else?”

“I want you to watch Sylvia lick Peter’s cum off my tits,” I say, enticing him to surrender.

“So naughty,” he says. He glides his shaft along my pussy and teases my drooling slit. “Whose cock do you want inside you?” He asks, as his hands latch onto my hips.

“Yours, baby,” I say, with my pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Whose?” He asks, in a raised voice.

“I want Your cock inside me!” I cry out.

He thrusts his thick, firm cock into my pussy and we both groan from the sudden exhilaration of contact. Before I’m able to take a breath and relax in to his snug fit, he shoves his length deeper inside me.

“Is this hard enough for you?” He asks, gritting his teeth.

I search my witty reserves for a riposte, but my body forces me to give in to pure desire. “Yes,” I confess, as I push myself back against him. “It’s so good.”

As a rule, I prefer a more leisurely stride; but right now I want him to drive himself into me with unrestrained voracity.

“Your ass is mine,” he says, as he pumps his cock into me from behind.

My pussy trembles at the possessive tempo of his voice and movement. “Show them,” I say, panting, “how you fuck me.”

He stabs his cock faster and harder inside me, grunting with each thrust. I ride out the transitory pain in anticipation of the rush of ecstasy that will soon engulf me.

“So fucking good,” he mutters, while his cock plunges deep inside me and his balls slap against my thighs.

I reach my hand down to my anxious clit, where I glide my middle finger in rhythm with my oscillating hips. Our harmonized strokes trigger surges of pleasure deep inside me, hurling my nerves into a euphoric seizure.

“Come for me baby,” he says, as if pleading for exoneration.

With those four magnificent words, I release my franticly taut muscles and dissolve into a state of primordial bliss. I hear my guttural moans amplify against the granite countertop as my pussy convulses from my core. His hurried breaths culminate with a roaring groan as his cock jerks inside me and then fills my womb with his warm cum.

Our tumultuous climax synchronizes with a crescendo of tenor saxophones blaring above and the sound of an overflowing pot hissing on the burner.

As our bodies calm, his attention is drawn toward the stove. While he turns away to shut off the flame, I shift my body to sit upright on the edge of the counter. The humid air is infused with the heady scent of our sex.

He returns to me and embraces my face with his hands, brushing my disheveled locks away from my eyes. We gaze at each other for a moment with a shared expression of decadent satisfaction.

He leans in and kisses my lips affectionately, anointing my mouth with his sensuous tongue. I slide my hands around his waist and pull him in closer to me. His soft cock brushes honeyed goo against my bare leg, arousing my desire once again.

“What’s for dessert?” I ask, with a dreamy smile.

He snorts at my unfaltering appetite. “Sylvia’s bringing dessert,” he replies, with a roguish glint in his eyes as he zips up his trousers.

“Mmmm. I hope it’s warm and creamy,” I respond, as I lean back onto my palms.

With an amused grin, he ambles over to the stove and then resumes preparation of dinner as if he hadn’t skipped a beat. I watch him for awhile, and then glance up at the clock. There’s just enough time to freshen up before the arrival of our guests.

I hop onto my bare feet and then make my way across the cool tile floor. As I meander by the stove, my hand dispenses a playful swat on to his ass. My bare breasts bounce in sync with each step as I prance out of the kitchen. I feel his stare from behind as my hips sway beneath my misshapen skirt.

The aroma of his sumptuous cuisine trails me from the kitchen, prompting a distinct grumble in my stomach. I hurry my pace to ready myself for our guests and quicken the fulfillment of my hunger. My mouth salivates as I imagine the promise our delicious feast, hopeful that our guests will share a penchant for delectable meats and sweet, creamy morsels.

*I can’t tell you what Paradise is like, but I’ll know it when I see it*

The first moment I realized I was in trouble there was a van door sliding open and a man in a ski mask holding a submachine gun came out at me. The van cut off my forward progress and another car hemmed me in from behind.

“Open the door and slide over!” the man yelled at me. That barrel looked awful big so I did as I was told. When he got in he commanded that I handcuff myself and put on a black hood. After that, we drove around, parked somewhere then I was transferred to the van and driven around even more. I had no idea where I was.

I was aware that I was hungry and thirsty. When I asked for water, they shoved something hard into my stomach and told me to shut up. After that all I could do was pay attention to what was going on around me and hoped that any background noises might give me a clue as to where I was. Of course, I prayed that I would live to see my Mother again as well.

They weren’t after me. I’m an only child, my Father died when I was nine, and my Mother does cutting edge research for a genetics lab. They didn’t really want money; they wanted something from my Mother. Being seen as a bargaining chip didn’t do much for my self-esteem. Believing that my Mother may not be able to do whatever it was she was asked to do didn’t make me feel any better either.

I soon figured out there were four kidnappers. The first two were the Professionals. They were a husband/wife team that pretty much thought together and worked things out quickly and efficiently. I didn’t learn too much about them because they didn’t talk too much and when they did it was in hushed tones. They really didn’t have much to do with me once I was in the safe house. I called them Joker and Harley.

The other two I labeled the Expendables. The male of the bunch was a brutish thug who delighted in coming over to me and telling me that he was going to shove a grenade up my ass if Mom didn’t come through. When I asked him what he was trying to get he hit me. I took that to mean he didn’t know and that the professionals didn’t trust him with the information. I didn’t blame them. Sadly, I think this sick psychopath would be the one to kill me. He was the Thug.

The other expendable didn’t talk much, which was mainly because she was the ‘step-and-fetch-it’ of the group. Everything was ‘slut’ this and ‘you slut’ that. Even the professionals despised her. With their continuous need to repeat themselves around her I got the impression she wasn’t too bright. She also must have had the self-worth of a mouse. She was the Punching Bag.

Soon enough I had to do the whole ‘Proof of Life’ thing and the professionals headed out to get the ransom. I figured that would be the last we would see of them too. I told Thug as much and he went nuts on me. Then he went nuts on the professionals. I heard guns cock and a deathly silence. Finally the Professionals agreed to take the Expendables with them.

Harley ‘suddenly’ realized that someone needed to stay with me, the hostage, because somehow I was going to bust out of the handcuffs restraining me to the chair and bolt for freedom. I felt my Hulk coming on. Seriously, I thought that my wrists would snap before the wood in the chair would. I had no intention of running away.

I kept mum on that fact because I knew what was coming. Thug in his brilliance decided that the Punching Bag should stay with me until they got back. Since I was pretty sure that the only thing the Thug was going to get was a bullet to the back of the head and I would never see the Professionals again, I decided to take my chances with the Punching Bag.

I sat back and waited. I asked the Punching Bag for something to drink so she brought me a soda. I reminded her that I couldn’t open it with my teeth but if she would un-cuff me I would gladly do it myself. She opted to open it for me because she was afraid of her ‘brother’ (Thug?). I nearly choked to death before she realized that I couldn’t take the whole thing in one gulp.

Next I asked for some music, or something to listen to. She cut on the TV because, you know, I wanted to stare at the black hood fabric on my head during the Wheel of Fortune. I asked her to take off my hood so I could watch TV with her. She thought it over. Five minutes later she asked me to repeat the question because she’d forgotten what it was. I gave up.

The show was pre-empted by news of a shootout at a local mall. It seems three criminals had duked it out with dozens of cops who just happened to be on the scene. The van the criminals were in had exploded for some unknown reason. What do you know; the Thug really did have a hand grenade. The Punching Bag watched it happen, watched it happen again, then suddenly burst into hysterics.

“Oh God! My Brother is dead. What am I going to do?”
“Let me go and I can help you,” I offered.
“No, I can’t do that. They will be pissed with me when they get vipsevgilim.com back if I do that.” Duh?
“They aren’t coming back. They are crispy critters at the mall,” I persisted.

“Oh … we’ll I can’t let you go because they will be angry.”
“I think we have established that they won’t be angry with you if you only unmask me,” I said, changing tact.
“Oh, alright then, if you don’t think they will be angry.” I really had no answer to that.

She took off my hood and I blink hard due to the sudden light. As my eyes adjusted I began to think something was wrong with them. I blink again and I’m certain that it wasn’t my eyes. This girl was a bombshell; fucking gorgeous, whatever else you want to call it. Bending over facing me, I could look from her crystal blue eyes all the way down to her tits of mythical proportions. At this time I would like to point out the biggest reason that men work out is to see women in sports bras.

“Are you okay?” she asked me with total innocence and the first thing that occurred to me is this girl is about to be doing twenty-to-life in some lesbian correctional facility being DP’ed by some bull-dyke named Ethel and her buddies.
“I’m okay. Are you hungry?” I inquired. She looked at me, processing the information.

“Sure,” she smiled.
“Where do you want to go to?”
“Chucky Cheese?” she suggested to which I nodded.
“Let’s go,” I smiled. I moved my arms to remind her that I was secured to the chair. “A little help here?”

She pulled out the key and unlocked the cuffs. I looked at the gun in her waistband. It was big – a .44 or .40; I’m not a big guy. I could have taken it then and that would’ve been that. She had this open trusting look in her eyes.
“You may want to keep the gun on me,” I hinted. She looked confused. “I’m your kidnap victim?”

“Oh! Yes, thanks. Hold on,” she said as she pulled out the gun and pointed it at me.
“Well, I think you partners are going to be busy for a while, but the cops might be able to trace them back here so we should go,” I told her. She bobbed her head.
“Do you have a lot of cash? We don’t want use my credit cards because they will be able to trace us through them,” I said.

“They can do that?” She gasped. I groaned. This was going to be harder than I thought.
“What is your criminal background? For that matter, what is your name?”
“My name is Tamara Miller and I don’t know what you mean by that first question,” she responded.

“Tamara, I’m Leo Keyes and I need to know how old you are and if you have ever been in prison,” I sighed.
“Does foster care count?” I shook my head. “No,” she said meekly.
“Have you ever been a prostitute?” I had to ask. She nodded. “You do realize that’s against the law, right?”

“It is?” she replied in shock. “I always wore a condom. Does that count?”
“Yes it does, Tamara. Was that other guy really your brother? You know the one who kept hitting me.”
“Yes, his name is Roy.”
“Was he your pimp … did you give him your money from whoring yourself out?” I said sadly. She nods again.

“Assuming your brother doesn’t come back, what are your plans?” She stared at me with a childlike vacantness. “Your brother isn’t coming back, Tamara. None of them are coming back.” Tamara started crying. This woman couldn’t go to prison. She’d die.
“He left me didn’t he?” she sobbed. “I did something stupid and he left me.”

“Tamara, you didn’t do anything stupid. Your brother got …” telling her he’d become a briquette didn’t seem fair, “… arrested, but he wants you to stay free so … you need to find a place to put me until you can figure out how to … make money enough to get him free.”
“Okay … I can do that … what should I do?” she pleaded.

“Is there a car?” She nodded. “Fine, let’s get all the cash we can then go to a motel near the edge of town. We’ll plan our next move from there.” She nodded. “Let’s do it now.” She nodded again. She looked at me. I took her hand and walked through the house until I found a black bag with some cash and weapons. It was a criminal Go-To bag. We headed out to the car; she got into the driver side. I had her pop the trunk so we could store the goods. I took a few hundred with me and jumped into the passenger side and we took off.

“My Brother is dead, isn’t he?” she finally said to me at a stoplight and I started reassessing how much she was in shock and how much that she was simply not too bright. She had seen her brother burned up on national television and might even have understood that it was his own dumb fault. I imagined he was the only family she had left.

“Do you need me to drive?” I asked her. Tamara nodded. She slipped across the seat and I ran around the car. “Do you know a hotel that might work as a hideout?”
“No, I never did much thinking about what do if Roy died.”
“Okay Tamara, we are going to go get a motel room then went to the Chucky Cheese to work on your survival biristanbulmasali.com plan. I figure once you are set, I can escape and you can make a clean getaway. I’ll tell them you are a fifty year old black man with one eye and a limp.”

She grinned at that then started to cry. I hate it when girls cry. I moved over to her side and put an arm around Tamara to comfort her. As she leaned into me it occurred to me that Tamara was quite tall; maybe six feet. She had golden blonde hair nearly to her ass, but it was thick. She has all the right curves, if you like your woman curvaceous, and as stated earlier, tits to die for.

Her face is somewhat round and angelic with the clearest ice-blue eyes I’d ever seen. Every ounce of my being screamed at me to fuck this girl, yet here I was comforting her and trying to protect her.
“I’m scared Leo,” she hiccupped.

“I’ve got you Tamara. I’ll figure a way out of this for you.”
Tamara’s response to grief was to go out and play at Chucky Cheese. I’ll give her this much; for an eighteen year old, she rocked at those games. Also, her grip was stronger than mine, and when she playfully punched me in the arm, it hurt. When I asked her about it, she matter-of-factly told me she’d been fighting off men and boys in the foster homes since she was ten. She was quite the fighter.

We got back to the motel shortly after dark. There I was on the evening news. The police were out in force looking for me. I was rich and privileged after all, and I’m sure Mom contributed to all the right people. There was no hint of Tamara. They were still trying to identify the three possible kidnappers that died in the explosion though they had definitely determined what had happened. An off-duty cop had stumbled upon the scene and acted. Shots were fired and the van blew up when something inside was hit. There was some belief that I was the ‘third body’.

I decided we both needed a shower. I suggested that Tamara go first and she could handcuff me to the bed. She decided I should go first and she could then handcuff me to the bed naked. I had a hard time arguing with that logic. It felt good to get clean. I showered, shaved, and checked my face in the mirror. I wrapped a towel around my waist and went out to see Tamara watching Cartoon Network. I’d never actually watched that before.

I didn’t do much watching after I sat down either. Tamara handcuffed me to the bed then started stripping in front of me, just out of reach. I wasn’t sure if that was on purpose, or poor spatial awareness. She seemed totally oblivious to my wide hungry eyes. As she sashayed toward the bathroom and looked over her shoulder with that child-like innocence she said,

“Please don’t run away. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She then noticed the tent under my towel, giggled and went into the bathroom. For my part, I rummaged through ever drawer I could reach with my hand or foot to see if there was a condom anywhere. I even thumbed through Gideon’s Bible to see if someone used a condom as a book mark – no such luck.

Tamara came out with a towel wrapped around her hair and nothing else. I absently noticed she’d used my razor, but I really didn’t care. It was disposable and besides, she had left just enough hair to be sexy while allowing a man to get down to some serious business.
“Tamara, what is the sleeping arrangement going to be?” I asked. Seeing some confusion, “Where are you going to sleep and where am I going to sleep?”

“Oh, we are going to sleep in the same bed, Silly. I can’t have you running off on me.”
“Tamara, I wouldn’t do that to you,” I confessed.
“I know,” she said as she crawled up on the bed with me, “but I don’t want to be alone. Don’t you worry none; I’ll leave you be.”

Considering the last thing I wanted her to do was leave me be, I had to groan. She tucked me in, got the gun and put it between us, then snuggled in next to me – and the gun.
“Good night Leo,” she murmured as she drifted off to sleep.
“Good night Tamara,” I responded as I rolled onto my side and looked at her. She was soon asleep and snoring softly. I wanted to lie there all night and drink in her beauty. I was asleep in ten minutes.

I felt a weight upon my hips and breathe upon my face. I woke up with a start, pretty sure I’d been dreaming the past forty-eight hours. I moved my sore, stiff arm and heard it clank against the bed post. Yes, I was handcuffed so no, I wasn’t dreaming. I opened my eyes and in the dawn light coming through the curtains I made out Tamara hovering over me, hear head surrounded by a halo of golden hair.

“Tamara, I …” I began. She ground her hips against mine and I felt myself stiffly respond. “I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” Even I knew that sounded lame.
“I know,” she smiled, “that’s why I want to do this. I always have to fight off the boys, but you are different. You respected me, so I want to reward manitam.net you for being nice to me and not running away.”

“You handcuffed me to the bed. I wasn’t going anywhere,” I grinned.
“I left the key next to the lamp,” she told me. In all of her walking around naked I’d totally missed that. I could feel her getting damp and it was turning me on like nobody’s business. I ran a hand along the curve of her ass to her hip and up to the closest breast. She gasped.

“My breasts are very sensitive,” she moaned. I tried to imagine how this could possibly be a bad thing. I traced a fingertip up to her nipple which became instantly hard. She arched her back and pushed harder down on my cock which was now slipping up and down between us. I wanted to put a hand on her back and pull her closer, but it clanked against the bedpost once more.

“Tamara, if I had a hand free …” Tamara shook her head.
“No, I like you right where I have you,” she smiled seductively. “You had your chance to get away.”
I try to twist my body so that I can lower my head enough to push her breast into my mouth, but my skeletal structure is having none of it. I must have whimpered because Tamara moved farther up my body so that I could accomplish the feat.

I was very careful with the administration of my tongue and lips upon her breast. I didn’t suck too hard, or for too long. I gave her a chance to recover by blowing cool air upon it whenever my lips moved away. From her guttural noises I could tell she loved it, but I had no idea until I felt my stomach become very wet and sticky. Her scream should have been a giveaway.

My first thought was that she was so loud that someone might call the cops for fear that I was trying to kill her. Her first thought was to slide down and wedge my penis up inside her. I liked her choice better than mine – a whole lot better. Tamara wasn’t tight, but she was snug and when she began working her vaginal muscles on me I knew I wouldn’t last long.

“Do you like that?” she teased. I was too busy trying not to come to reply. She slid up and I popped out. She slid down again but failed to catch me like she had previously. She slid along my shaft until she was at my balls.
“Whoops,” she said with this all too cute pout. That was it for me. That voice; that face, and the feeling of her vagina sliding down my shaft caused me to shoot all over my belly and up to my chest. I doubted I had ever come that hard in my life and I wasn’t even inside a girl.

She sat there looking down at my stomach as my cock finished twitching. The look she gave me was priceless. Without words she said to me ‘Did I do that?’ She made it even better.
“Let me clean that up for you,” she said softly. How does any heterosexual man reply to that? I nodded vigorously of course.

Tamara crawled backwards down my body. She pulled all of her hair to one side, leaned over my balls and began licking and sucking. I was rock hard again in seconds and that hasn’t happened since I turned twenty. After giving each testicle its own tongue bath she moved up to my penis. She licked along each side, avoiding the head.

When she had cleaned up pool of semen at the base of my stomach she went back for my penis. She rolled her tongue around the head then looked up.
“Don’t you dare come yet, ya hear?” she commanded.
“I’ll try not to, I swear,” I ground out. I was already in the deep-breathing stage of arousal.

Tamara slowly started bobbing up and down my cock, swallowing me in little bits. She was clearly a pro, because my whole member began disappearing down her throat. I’ve never been deep throated, but I’ve only had four blowjobs before either. My ex-fiancé preferred hand jobs because they were less ‘gross’.

I didn’t know how it was for the rest of the male population, but the first time a woman (or man if that’s your thing) takes all of you inside their mouth, it is Nirvana. Normally I don’t come twice in a night. It takes a lot of bedroom antics to make me perform at that level. Here I was trying desperately not to come twice in just five minutes.

“All clean,” she pronounced as she let my cockhead roll off her tongue.
“Are you sure you didn’t miss a spot,” I panted.
“Sugar, I would have tasted it if I had,” she smiled as she licked her lips. I couldn’t argue with that.

Holding her hair back, Tamara went back to the business of cleaning me up. It took me a moment to realize she wasn’t accidentally rubbing her stomach against my cock. She was rolling it around and moving up and down over it. I damned that woman and her crafty ways while at the same time praying she’d never stop.

“That’s the last of it,” she said as she raised herself to meet my eyes.
“You missed a spot,” I teased her. She looked confused so I leaned forward and licked a tiny bit of semen had gotten on her nose. That action made me re-evaluate my sexuality for a second. Normally the thought of tasting my own come would have felt gay, but not with her. With her it was fun.

“Let me get that,” she grinned. She leaned in and we swapped spit and semen and I couldn’t tell you who got more of what on that exchange and I didn’t care. What she said next had been told to me hundreds of times before but it had never sounded sexier.

As they stood at the foot of their bed he saw how sexy she was. He reached over her should to hold the back of her head. He pulled her to a deep kiss. Then pulled her head to the side, and placed his lips upon her neck. She moaned at the feeling of his lips sucking at her tender neck. He worked lower biting her nipple through her dress. Then kissing her stomach through the dress. Now on his knees he reached under her dress. He took hold of her lacy panties, and pulled them down. She sat down on the edge, and picked up her feet so he could pull her panties free. Now his hand went to her lips, and traced along them. He placed his fingers on her chin, and brought himself up to kiss her again. While he kissed her he placed his hand above her breasts, and pushed her gently down on to the bed. Now kneeling in front of her he lifted her dress revealing her juicy thighs. He placed kisses on them while he pushed them apart. The site he found between them was her smooth wet pussy. Her bare skin was irresistible. He nibbled up her inner thigh, and placed a kiss on her sensitive clit. She moaned. He used his fingers to rub her clit, and then he swirled his fingertip kocaeli escort around her wet hole. He licked up her wet pussy, and she arched her back. He continued to lick, and nibble at her pussy. Then she moaned when he placed a finger deep inside her. “Oh, more” she moaned. He placed two deep inside, and started pumping them in and out. She felt every placed his tongue licked, and every thrust of his fingers. She felt her orgasm building up. Her body tensed, and then she screamed as her orgasm pounded through her body. He pulled his fingers out, and placed a kiss on her pussy.

Now she sat up, and reached out for his chin. She pulled him up to her, and kissed him. Then she stood up, and pushed him on to the bed. She knelt down in front of him, and grabbed his briefs. She pulled them down, and found his cock standing erect before her. She kiss his tip, and he jumped. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, and licked it. Then she placed her lips around his tip. He grabbed the bed to hold himself from jumping. She lowed her mouth down, and he moaned. As she pulled back up he moaned “Oh my kuşadası escort god, I love you.” She continued her process of lowering her mouth around him, and then sucking him as she rose up. Then she added her tongue to the process. Stopping with her lips around his tip, and using her tongue on his tip. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him cum. So quickly he reach down, and pulled her up along side him.

After kissing each other for a couple minutes. He rolled over on top of her. He then reached down between them and rubbed her clit, and she startled. She reach around him, and pulled him down on top of her. He then pulled her dress straps off her shoulders, and she pulled her arms out. He kissed her chest, and pulled her dress down. He took one breast into his mouth, and grabbed her other one. With his tongue he flicked her nipple. With his fingers he twisted her other nipple, and then squeezed her full breast. He bit her nibble in his teeth. She reached between them now and squeezed his cock, and whispered “fuck me.” So he rubbed his cock against her wet pussy before thrusting hard and deep marmaris escort inside her. She moaned. He pulled out, and teased her with his tip. She ran her nails down his back, and he thrust again. He took hold of her legs, and pushed them over his shoulders. Then pumped deep inside her. Her hands touching his chest. His grabbing her breasts. Her body tensing as her breath started to hitch. He knew she was close. He grabbed her around the neck. Not choking, but taking control of her. He then thrust harder and deeper. She quickly screamed, and her whole body shivered. He pulled out, and laid down beside her.

She leaned over, and kissed his neck. She then sat up over him, and kissed his chest. She them turned around, and straddled him. She grabbed his cock, and lowered her wet throbbing pussy down on to his hard longing cock. He grabbed her ass cheeks, and they both began. Him pumping up meet to her, and her pushing down to ride him. He loved watching her ass bouncing on his cock, and the feeling was sensational. She felt every inch of him pushing deep into her. She squeezed her muscles around his cock, and he moaned. He wouldn’t hold out much longer, and she knew it. He started to growl, and then held still. She turn to face him, and continued to ride him hard. Then growled again, and grabbed her breasts. Then he cam hard deep inside her. She felt him cum, and stopped as pulled her down into his embrace. There they laid until they both had recovered from their long fulling joy.

It was a hot and humid night. “Come outside with me,” Jenni said, taking Eric by the hand and pulling him toward her. “I want to go for a swim.” Eric followed her, knowing she wanted more than a swim. And he was too hot (in more ways than one) to deny her.

Standing on the deck of the pool, Jenni pulled her shirt over her head. No bra. She kicked off her sandals, then undid her skirt and let it drop. No panties. Eric stood on the pool deck, watching her intently, smiling. The woman loved to go without panties, and she always made sure he knew when she did, even if they were in a crowded room, sitting together at a meeting or hanging out with friends. He admired how comfortable she was with herself, her sexuality. They’d met through mutual friends and hung out together quite often, but this was their first time alone, so they hadn’t had sex yet. He had been looking forward to this date since he’d asked her a week ago. After a casual dinner, she invited him back to her house.

Jenni stood at the edge of the pool, her clothes in a pile at her feet. “Are you going to join me, or do I have to do this by myself?” she asked, her words fethiye escort and tone challenging him. God, she was incredible! Petite with small breasts and gorgeous nipples that he couldn’t wait to suck on. Enjoying the view of her deliciously naked body, he smiled at the suggestion. Much as the thought of watching her masturbate in the pool turned him on, he really wanted a piece of the action.

Eric walked over to where she was standing and reached for her. She moved back. “Not until you take EVERYTHING off.” Her eyes twinkled as she watched him remove his sneakers, t-shirt, shorts and boxers. She admired his incredible body as he got naked. He was all dark hair and sinewy muscle. And he was hard in all the right places! Her eyes were open wide in admiration of his beautiful cock, and she was practically drooling at the thought of touching him and feeling him inside her.

Stepping toward her, Eric took her in his arms. As he kissed her, her hands made their way through his hair and stroked the back of his neck. His hands moved slowly, kneading broad strokes across her back and gebze escort buttocks. He moaned in protest as she broke the kiss, and stepping back, eased into the water. He followed, sighing as the cool water consumed his bodies. He kissed her again, and she kissed back with intense passion. Jenni moved her body against his. She felt his arousal against her navel.

Eric kissed her lips, her cheeks, her throat, and made his way down to her breasts. One at a time he took each nipple in his mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue. She could feel her desire building; her moans encouraged him, his pace becoming more aggressive in response. His trail of kisses led back to her mouth while he played with her breasts and nipples.

She explored his body with wet hands. Her touch lingered where the water line met his waist. She teased him, gently running her fingers across his skin, which felt hot in spite of the cool water. Then she dropped her hand beneath the surface. She held his erection in one hand, stroking it delicately. She loved the way he felt, so hard and smooth. She konyaaltı escort stroked him faster and more firmly.

“I want to fuck you” he whispered in her ear, leading her toward the ladder. Carefully sitting down, he grabbed her hips with both hands and lifted her onto him as she guided him inside. She thought the pool water might wash away her own wetness, but her passion was stronger than the cleansing effect of the water. He entered her, filling her with his thickness.

The water betrayed their excitement as they began to move together. At first, gentle ripples emanated from where their bodies met. Then, small waves lapped against the side of the pool, making a smacking noise as they hit the wall. They were caught up in the buoyancy of the water, the size of the waves growing in direct proportion to the heightening passion of their lovemaking. It was an incredible sensation, the feeling of having him inside her and holding her, while the water almost seemed to carry them away.

Eric rubbed Jenni’s clit while he fucked her. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes half-closed in ecstasy. Her orgasm enveloped her and she screamed her release. Feeling and hearing her climax triggered his own. As his body relaxed, she kissed him and held him close.

As the heat of their passion slowly subsided, they got out, wrapped themselves in a blanket and lay down together on a lounge chair. They watched the star-studded sky above them, content to lie naked together.

This is a sequel to my story ‘Leprechaun Tales’ and continues the story of Jimmy O’Scoury and his Irish-American family. You don’t necessarily have to have read Part 1 to enjoy this story. However, Part 1 was very good so why the heck not?

In Part 1, Jimmy, a sexually underdeveloped dwarf was treated by a German doctor and after one year of treatment had grown over one foot, so that he now stood about five foot one inch tall. But it was his penile size and his sexual capacity that the Doctors treatment radically changed, giving Jimmy a huge cock and the desire to use it. In part one, in the summer previous to this present story, Jimmy had made love with his beautiful sister Patty; a neighbor, the Chinese girl Soo; and of course his mother.

Part 2 describes his sexual experiences as he starts his senior year of high school. Enjoy!

Leprechaun (noun) a mischievous Irish elf

In Irish folklore, a small (but well hung) man with magical powers, often dressed in green

LEPRECHAUN TALES Part 2

My summer of sexual initiation was finally over, my sister, my love, Patty, had returned to university, it was just Mom and I at home now, my final year of high school was about to begin. I was ready for new experiences, new women…I was keen to use the big cock my doctor had made me…ready to show my friends and enemies I was no longer a midget between my legs…that I was a man at last.

NICOLE – EXOTIC DANCER

She was standing on a low stool, dancing naked for an old guy in the corner, when she saw me reflected in the wall mirror. “Jimmmy,” she yelled as she hopped from the stool and ran into my arms. “YOU CAME”

I had just arrived minutes earlier in Miami Beach’s number one strip club, ‘The Pink Pussy’ and one look at Nicole and you understood why it was number one and how it lived up to its name.

At twenty-three she was at the height of her beauty and exuded a sexuality that was overpowering, undeniable…even as she had run over to me I had seen thirty sets of eyes follow her, drinking in her splendor, jealous of the attention I was receiving.

She was about five foot seven but her upright posture, her pulled back shoulders, and her firm, proud breasts made her look taller, and as she moved, her long, dark blond hair bounced over her shoulders and back, the soft tendrils seeming to caress her with each step she made.

My eyes involuntarily followed her soft curves, the long arch of her neck leading to the high, round, pink capped hills on her chest, and then slowly down lower, across her flat stomach, stopping for a second at her navel before my eyes found her shaven mound and the pink slit below.

“You’ve seen me naked before,” she laughed as she followed my eyes, referring to the day we’d spent together with my sister at Haulover Beach weeks before. “I was hoping you’d come,” she added, and then, grabbing my hand led me to a table in the darkest recess of the club.

I had arrived at the club on a Friday night around eleven-thirty, driven to see Nicole again by the loss that week of Patty and Soo, both of whom had gone back to school, leaving me with only Mom for my sexual gratification.

“So, did it work? Did my performance at the beach help you with your little Chinese friend?” she asked excitedly as she hovered atop a stool between my legs. “Did you fuck her?”

As a favor to my sister she had played my girlfriend that day, trying to make my neighbor Soo jealous, helping me in the conquest of that little Asian pearl. Seeing my blush at her questions she laughed and then demanded, “C’mon, give me the details,” even as her fingers slid onto my thigh and slowly slipped upwards.

Shyly at first, and then more confidently, I described my seduction of Soo, told Nicole how I’d been sleeping with her for the last three weeks, described our lovemaking, our lust.

“She was lucky,” she interrupted with a sigh. “I almost decided not to help,” she said as her fingers found my now fully erect shaft, impatiently grasping it through my pants.

“How come?”

“I almost decided to take you home myself…if I hadn’t promised Patty…well I,”

“But everyone here wants you…you can take anyone home you want to…somebody rich … or handsome…or famous…”

“Well then, I’ll take you,” she laughed, “I’m finished at midnight…I’ll dance for you til then,” she added as she stood on the stool, spreading her legs, opening her pink insides to me as she pushed her shaven mound within inches of my face.

We left soon after, and as she drove me to her condo on South Beach she only used one hand to direct the little convertible beamer, the other was tightly circled around my fat cock which she had slipped from my pants, pumping me in tune to the techno music that blared from her speakers into the tropical night.

“God, dancing must pay well,” I said, as I looked out the window of her fourteen hundred square foot, sixteenth floor beach condo. She had a northwest corner and from the living room I could the moonlit beach to my right, Ocean kocaeli escort Drive and the clubs of Washington Street straight ahead and the lights of downtime Miami to my left.

“Do you like the view Jimmy,” she asked hoarsely as she hugged me from behind, her hands pulling me back as she slipped her fingers down the front of my shorts. As she unzipped me I turned to face her, and felt my cock jump upwards just before it was trapped between our bodies.

“I’ve been dreaming of this big guy,” she said grinning as her hand found me, “and he’s not leaving this apartment until he can’t do it again.”

“That could be weeks,” I boasted laughing, my penis feeling longer, harder than it ever had before.

“We’ll see,” she laughed, then slid down my body to her knees and quickly engulfed my cockhead between her lips.

“Jeeeesus,” I groaned as I watched her slowly swallow my cock, stunned at how easily she was able to take my full length. She grabbed my rear cheeks, even inserted a finger in my ass, as her tongue, her lips worked from my balls to the tip of my straining spear, licking off the first drop of pre cum before swallowing me again.

“Niki, slow down baby…pleasssse…” I moaned, pulling her shoulders, trying to raise her off my cock before I exploded.

I heard the liquid plop when her lips finally released me, felt her tongue move across my navel, my stomach, felt it stop for a second at my nipple, felt her little bite there before I pulled her to her feet and met her tongue with mine.

“I’m so fucking wet Jimmy,” she cried as she wrapped one leg around my back. “”Lift me Jimmy, put it in, fuck me,” she ordered as I grabbed her ass and lifting, moved her so her wet pussy was just above my bucking prick.

“Yes honey, yeeeeeeeesssss,” she squealed as I slowly split her with my fat shaft. “Fuck me hard honey, stuff it all in,” she insisted.

And I did! And she welcomed me into her molten channel as her ankles locked behind my back, and then still holding her, I turned and pushed her so that her back was against the glass door that separated us from the balcony.

Each thrust brought a grunt from Nicole, a grunt that was accompanied by a clenching around my shaft of the muscles in her cunt, muscles that gave a quick, lubricated squeeze before releasing me.

“OhhhhBayyybee, oh god, yesssss” she screamed as the tremors of her first orgasm pulsed through her, her womb opening and closing in tandem with my bursts of sperm that were now shooting into her.

We fucked five times that night, a primal, elemental round of fucking that was simply about sexual gratification. Simply put, our bodies were made for each and we acted accordingly. There was no need of long seductions or foreplay, analysis or questions – we just fucked – then we both came. Then we did it again.

There were no rules, no taboos as we coupled, both of us just reacted and fulfilled the others desire. I felt good when I was in her and knew I satisfied her as she’d never been satisfied before.

I didn’t go back to her club again that fall; instead we spent our free days tanning on the beach followed by slow lazy fucking on her balcony overlooking South Beach. We had a hunger for each other that was insatiable, and even though she started seeing a wealthy older businessman, a relationship that got increasingly serious as the weeks flew by; she refused to stop seeing me.

“I’ll always want to fuck you Jimmy, even when I’m an old married woman,” she promised just days before she got engaged. And I was elated by the other news she told me in the days leading up to Christmas…

CHRISSIE – PROM QUEEN SLUT

My first day of my senior year of high school started off badly – my assigned locker was next to one assigned to Chrissie Anne Brown, Miss Bitch herself, the girlfriend of my lifelong nemesis, Andrew Clark.

How much of an asshole are you anyway, I’d often wondered over the years about ‘Andy’, Andy who had mercilessly made fun of me since the first day we’d met in kindergarten thirteen years ago. Kids of course can we cruel, and someone like me, who had been born a midget, had been the object of ridicule all my life.

But Andrew, at eighteen, full sized, a good athlete, popular, the boyfriend of the prettiest girl in school, for some reason still thought it was humorous to make fun of me, to belittle me in public.

“Oh God, its you,” Chrissie muttered when she came up and saw me opening my locker, the locker next to hers. “Wait til Andy hears,” she added as she started to laugh.

“Hi Chrissie, how was your summer?” I asked smiling, an instantaneous decision echoing through my brain. I’m going to fuck this bitch, I thought; fuck her until she’s begging me never to leave her. “You look great,” I added.

“What?”

“Your hair, it’s nice, you’ve changed it, the color, the length, the way it hangs…its sexy.”

Clearly surprised she still finally managed to answer, unable not to respond to a compliment, “Oh kuşadası escort thanks, you really like it?”

“Oh, if only I was six feet tall and called Andy,” I crooned, my hand on my breast, “I’d be in heaven.” Just before I walked away I could see the confusion in her eyes before a small grin appeared in the corner of her mouth, a grin I could see she was struggling to control.

The thing about Chrissie is that she’s not only the prettiest and sexiest girl in school; she’s also one of the smartest. All through elementary school she and I had competed to be number one in the class, and I knew that the years when I had come out on top were the real genesis of the dislike she still felt for me.

But everyone else liked her, and she had become one of the most popular girls in the high school, a popularity that was merited by her niceness to everyone but me. I often thought that if she hadn’t been seeing Andy, a romance that was now entering its fourth year, she and I probably would have buried the hatchet and become friends.

“Are you on steroids or something?” she asked me peremptorily as she whisked up to her locker the next day and stood looking at me.

“Yes.”

“You are? You’re much bigger than you were last year, aren’t you? You’re not really a midget anymore, are you? The girls at lunch were talking about you.”

“What did they say?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just that you were pretty big now,” she answered.

They’re were lots of people milling through the halls but no one really close to us, so I just leaned over and whispered, “My new doctor has been treating me for over a year, it’s nine and a half, cripes, almost ten inches long now…and pretty thick…I think it could be the biggest one in school.”

“Uhhh…ten inches…what are you talking…” she started, but then, as realization hit her, she couldn’t stop the blush that flooded over her cheeks nor stop from glancing towards my groin. “That’s disgusting,” she blurted just as her boyfriend arrived on the scene.

“Hi baby,” Andy chirped as he took her in his arms, a possessive grin on his face. “Yes he is disgusting hon. I heard they let you back in,” he sneered at me, “I guess they still haven’t got that school for retards and dwarfs open yet, eh?”

“Andy don’t,” Chrissie interrupted, “just leave him alone.”

“Sure baby,” he agreed as he turned back to her, “I gotta go; I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Such an intelligent, compassionate, mature man, our good, old Andy,” I said as we watched him retreat down the hall, “It’s just too bad he’s got such a small prick.”

“Shut up you little dwarf,” Chrissie hissed as she slammed her locker and stomped off.

~~~~~

She glared at me each time we met over the next couple of days, not even bothering to say hello when our paths crossed.

“Why are you still here?” she demanded three afternoons later when she appeared at her locker at five fifteen, perspiring lightly under her cheerleader’s uniform, clearly just back from practice.

“Sis boom bah,” I said grinning.

“Screw you loser.”

“Actually Chrissie, I don’t have time for pom poms. I’m taking some advanced math classes with Mr. Davis, he’s helping me with calculus, it should help with my SAT’s, he’s promised to write a recommendation for me to Duke.”

“Duke? You’re not smart enough to go there. He didn’t offer to write anything for me,” she complained, stamping her foot, “I’m his best student. Besides, who wants to go to Duke anyway, they’re all rapists up there.”

I was almost too mesmerized to answer, the way her perfect, firm, round titties were moving under the white school sweater, obviously unencumbered by any restraining bra. As my eyes hungrily moved over her she demanded, “Well, aren’t I?”

“He told me you were a good student, for a girl anyway. In fact he told me he’s never had a blond girl who could even add before,” I said smiling.

“Liar! …You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“All right, I’ll test you,” I challenged. “What longer, six inches or twenty-five centimeters?”

“That’s too easy….twenty-five centimeters is equal to ten …oh you pig,” she ended, her words trailing off.

I moved into her, pinning her against the locker with my body, letting her feel my full size as I crushed her breasts with my chest. She struggled to push me away but for second after second I held her, my hands digging into her firm ass cheeks, pulling her into my cock.

“You’re an asshole, you little, midget prick,” she hissed when I finally released her, her hand flashing through the air and slapping my cheek.

I spun her easily, surprising her with my strength, and pushed her face first against the cool steel of the locker. “Is Annnndy the only man you’ve ever slept with?” I taunted as my fingers slipped under the soft wool of her sweater and found and cupped and squeezed her luscious orbs.

“Noooooo, stop,” she ordered as I felt her nipples growing under my fingers.

“So marmaris escort you’ve fucked somebody besides Andy?”

“No, no, just him, just him,” she cried before I finally let her go.

“So I’ll be your second,” I said laughing as I turned and walked away.

“NEEEVVVVVER!” She screamed to my retreating back.

~~~~~

I ignored her for the next week, going about my school life as if she didn’t exist. When we were at our lockers at the same time, or when our eyes met fleetingly in class, I could see I made her both nervous and excited, and often saw her biting her lip, knowing she wanted to talk.

“Pig!” she finally hissed at me one day a week later when I arrived at my locker.

“What?” I laughed, knowing she’d found the gift I’d left in her locker, a gift I’d bought the night before at ‘Boutique Venus’, the local sex shop. I’d carefully wrapped it in silver paper, the ends held together with pink ribbons.

I was sorry I’d missed her unwrapping it; I wished I’d seen her eyes when the 9 inch long, lifelike (even to blue veins and ribbed cockhead), fat, plastic penis had appeared.

“You’re an ass,” she continued but I could see that at some level she was amused, even titillated by the gift.

“Try it, maybe you’ll like it,” I kidded. “I know, I know, Andy boy is pretty small, is he even six inches long when hard? It won’t be easy to take it all, but Chrissie,” I said, now whispering, “I know you can do it, sweetie. Hell, with all your cheerleading splits and stunts, no problem…”

She was retreating as I finished, her backpack over her shoulder, anger burning in her deep blue eyes…of course I knew she’d try it, play with it, insert it…who could resist…

~~~~~

For the rest of the week she stayed away from her locker, and each time I got a fleeting glimpse of her, she was arm in arm with Andy, seemingly clinging to him to protect herself from the evil dwarf.

“So?” I asked casually the next Monday morning.

“So what?” she replied aggressively but I could detect a tremor in her voice.

“Did you like it? Were you able to…”

Her blush betraying her she stammered, “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m a little longer than it of course, but still, I think you…”

“Liar,” she cried, “you couldn’t be bigger, it hardly fit…” Seeing her embarrassment I laughed, even as she rushed on, “I mean it probably…oh, screw you,” she ended lamely as she turned away.

For the next couple of days we both kept our distance from each other, for my part I was quite happy to let her stew in her own juices for awhile, knowing that every night she was returning home to that giant dildo, knowing that each night she was laying in bed, pushing it into herself, all the while wondering what it would be like with me.

Thursday at lunch time I cornered her in the stands overlooking the football field, I had earlier that morning heard her promise Andy she’d come watch him while he practiced.

“Go away,” she ordered between bites of her sandwich.

“Hi to you to. Can I join you?”

“No!” For seconds I just sat there, watching the football team running through their plays. “What do you want anyway?” she finally asked.

“I want advice,” I answered, a shy look on my face.

“About what? And I don’t want to hear any more about your”

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just…I wonder …listen, do you think I have a chance with Judy?” I blurted.

“What? Who?”

“You know, Judy Marshall…I mean she’s really good looking and hot…” I stammered.

“Why would she ever want to go out with you?”

“I don’t know. Heck, I’m good looking, intelligent, I’m nice…good in bed…”

“Yeah right! You’re short! Besides, she’s got a boyfriend. And what happened to me? I thought you were so eager to sleep with me.”

“She’s really pretty…I mean you are too of course, but … she is the head cheerleader…and besides, I think she and I will go better together.”

“She’s not that pretty,” Chrissie finally spat out, the anger now obvious on her face, an anger I’d known would come. The two girls had been rivals all through high school of course, competing over boys, over marks, over status and just this week Judy had been named head cheerleader, a job both had wanted. “And why pray tell, would you and she go better together?”

“Listen, sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have asked,” I apologized. “I prefer you, its just that you hate me and also…”

“Also what?”

“Well, its just that Judy’s boyfriend, you know, Tommy, well he’s pretty well built…you know, his penis,” I whispered, “I just thought maybe that…well that Judy could sleep with me easier than you…that she’s already had someone pretty big, not as big as me, but..”

“Are you crazy? Do you think that bitch would be better in bed than me? I can take as good as you got Jimmy O’Scoury,” she almost shouted.

“I’d prefer you sweetie,” I said laughing, then I bent over and kissed her quickly on her sultry lips.

“You never wanted Judy,” she sputtered, angry at how easily I’d duped her.

“Of course not,” I agreed with a real warmth in my voice, “Why would I want anyone but the most beautiful girl in Miami?”

Looking back as I skipped down out of the stands I could see a bemused look on Chrissie’s face and knew she’d soon be in my arms, a slave to my kisses.

As you step into the dark chapel, the first thing you notice is how cold the floor is. That’s probably because you aren’t wearing your shoes. You had been carrying them as you walked along the beach. It had been hot and your cute little sundress with the tiny stippled white flower pattern had stuck to your back, so when you saw the chapel looking all shady and inviting you stepped inside. You had a feeling you really should have put your shoes on to enter the chapel, but nobody was around, so you thought you might tempt fate. Or God. Or whatever.

Inside you sit at a pew in the back and close your eyes for a second to enjoy the blessed silence after the blazing sun and the gusty wind. But after a moment you hear the squeak of the hinges as someone opens the door. You open your eyes and turn to look and you find there a most attractive young fellow. His hair is jet black, and he has that prominent nose that so many of the Italians around here do. He sees you looking at him and grins. You kind of melt a little at that, because his smile is just goddamn perfect. Dude should be a model.

He looks up at the altar, crosses himself, and sits in the pew behind you. This makes you a little uncomfortable, only because you aren’t here to pray, and it feels a little like you are intruding.

Your pew shifts against his weight as he leans forward and kneels, resting his elbows on the back of your pew. Glancing sideways you can see he has closed his eyes, his hands are firmly clasped together. Deep in prayer, apparently. He is quiet for a minute and just as you are about to pick up your shoes and sneak out of the chapel he opens his eyes, looking straight at you. Damn – he caught you staring at him! You turn away and you know you are blushing deep red. But he leans close to your ear and whispers in fast Italian. You desperately try to keep up, your two years of high school Italian almost completely failing you here. But from his pointing and the occasional word you understand it seems like he thinks you probably should have put your shoes on. Damn – caught again! You smile, you apologize (in both English and poor Italian), and you smile again, convincingly you hope. When he smiles back at you, you melt a little more.

You give him some more English and broken Italian, and he appears to understand that you are a tourist. It seems like maybe he forgives you. He touches your shoulder, grins at you, and whispers very fast Italian which you understand almost nothing of. You just keep saying, “si!” and he keeps talking. But now he’s looking in your eyes, you’re pretty sure he is telling you something about how beautiful he thinks you are, but maybe it’s the chapel that’s beautiful. He touches your arm, gently, but with more pressure than would be considered just friendly. You feel embarrassed and look down. His hand moves to the side of your face and pushes you hair back, “so he can see your pretty face” – at least that’s what you think he says. He’s finally quiet for a moment… and then he’s kissing your neck, softly, deliberately, slowly, with small kisses that travel up your neck. You turn and kiss him on the mouth, thinking of that beautiful smile.

He pulls away (and for a brief fethiye escort second you think this is some game the local boys play on tourists – kiss a girl and run) but you watch his lithe athletic body hop the pew in one graceful movement, and he’s next to you, his strong arms surrounding you, pulling you close to him, kissing you, pressing against you as if he desperately needs to touch you.

You feel his hands on your body, on your hips, one hand on your knee. And it is sliding up your leg, his fingers between your thighs. He stops kissing you, breathing heavily, his forehead bumps against yours and you can see him smile (almost shyly?) as his fingers reach your pussy, touching you through your panties. He rubs your clit gently with his calloused fingers as his other hand inclines your head towards him, and this time his kisses are more passionate, slower, his tongue in your mouth as your clit slips between the tips of his fingers.

Both his hands slide up the outside of your thighs, over your hips and his fingers loop around your panties. He pulls them down to your ankles, and he gets on his knees. He kisses your knee. He kisses your thigh. He moves, and kisses your other thigh. Slowly, slowly he works his way up, his hands sliding along the top of your legs, pushing the bottom of your dress up, until he is burying his face in your pussy. Your ass slips down off the edge of the seat of the pew to meet him, your body moving of its own inclinations. He licks you slowly, moaning quietly. His tongue slides up your cunt, and over your clit. He gently sucks your clit into his mouth. He pauses for a second to gasp out some Italian words, something about delicious or delicacy, and a bunch of other words you don’t know. He sucks your clit into his mouth as his hands slide up the back of your legs. He squeezes your ass lovingly as he gets serious with his work, alternately sliding his tongue into you and sucking your clit.

You try desperately not to moan too loudly. But it just feels so good to have this beautiful man eating your pussy in this still and sacred place. Your fingers run repeatedly through his black hair, and he looks up at you once in a while and smiles. Your pussy responds even more intensely to his smile than his tongue, wetting his perfect chin. He slides a finger inside you as he starts sucking your clit rhythmically. Another finger soon joins it. You lean back on the pew, spreading your legs wide, totally at the mercy of this man you do not know. He finger-fucks you, forcing his two fingers deep inside you suddenly and kind of roughly, as he continues to suck your clit. You moan desperately, and he looks up at you and smiles again. You can’t hold out anymore, the orgasm washing over you, as you feel your cunt clamp down on his fingers, your thighs squeeze together, every muscle in your body tightening up, as you gasp and cum. You open your eyes to see him looking at you as he brings his wet fingers to his lips and tastes you on them before making some incomprehensibly subtle Italian finger-gesture in the air.

He rises up above you, and smiles that smile that cracks you open. You pull his shirt up, and gebze escort undo the buttons up his chest. You slide your hands up his undershirt and the tips of your fingers bump over the ridges of his belly – this, you think to yourself, is the body of someone who does physical work for a living. Perhaps you have yourself a farmboy here, or a fisherman, or some other occupation that fills some American ideal vision of rural old-world countryside.

One of his stone-hard supporting arms slips behind your shoulders and guides you down to lay you back on the pew, while his other hand undoes his tooled-leather belt, and opens the fly of his black tweed pants. His cock appears in his hand, ripe and ready. You look up at him and ask him to fuck you. You beg him to fuck you. And this one word of English he seems to know. He comes down on you from above, and enters you from on high, prying your gash apart with his thick dark dick, lubricated by a string of round soft words that he rolls into your ear.

He fucks you slowly and forcefully. Long strokes that drive up into you until your clit rubs so teasingly against his hard body before you have to let him slide away from you again. His head presses against yours, his night-black hair displacing the thatched sunlight of your blonde locks. He holds your head against his cupped in both of his big hands, reverently, like some kind of sacrament. One of your hands grips the top of the pew, and with your other hand you hold his firm ass and pull him into you with all the strength you can bring from one arm. You arch your back and press your full tits against him, loving the feeling in your nipples as his body forces the fabric of your sundress to slide over them. He fucks you with a rhythm played out into the high-ceiling spaces of the chapel by the squeaks and groans the come from the old dry wood of the pew straining against the movement.

He rears back, sliding his hands under your ass and then up the backs of your legs. He bends you in two, your knees almost to your shoulders. Your cunt is wide open, exposed and vulnerable for this perfect stranger. For a time, his cock plays at your pussy lips like a small child working alone against all the forces of the ocean trying to swamp her castle of sand. And then he’s drilling into you. His hands on the back of your thighs, folding you in half, making you available to accommodate all of his size. His eyes catch yours with a look of such intensity and desire it shorts your breath. On his face, a beatific look of pleasure, the look of someone who for one brief moment was lucky enough to be feeling the best physical feeling he could imagine as he pushes into you. The sounds that escape your lips echo back to you from the dim vaults of the ceiling, as if a host sings praises from on high of your pure ecstasies.

Your toes define gestures in the air above the two of you, and they soon begin to tingle. As if he knows every sensation you have, he chooses that toe-tingling moment to let you up, his cock slipping from you in the long slow movement of a wave sliding back down the beach. You sit up feeling warm, and pull your sundress up and over konyaaltı escort your head. As you do, a warm breeze stirs through the still-open chapel door and cools over the sweat of your body. At the same time it makes you aware that you are naked and being fucked in a holy place. There’s a chance that at any moment some innocent crone with delicate sensibilities will hobble in seeking a quiet moment of peace with her god, and instead will find herself introduced to your exciting new way to worship.

His smile once again, and he takes your upper arm firmly, his hand nearly big enough for his fingertip to touch his thumb around the circumference of your arm. He pulls you forward and you fall to your knees on the thinned velvet of the kneeling cushion. He comes behind you, his knees forcing your legs apart. From behind, his cock slides back inside your cunt, and your shoulders hunch as the fullness of his cock displaces the air from your lungs in an echoing gasp. Your hands grip the back of the pew in front of you, your knuckles pale against the darkly-stained wood. His hands slide up your taught belly and over your tits raising them up, and over the edge of the back of the pew. There they rest pale, glowing, and defining a golden-ratio curve in those great browned hands of his, while the tips of your nipples refuse to be contained by his fingers that slip over them.

He fucks you without mercy, driving into you repeatedly while he ushers forth a snake of words that are heavily weighted by round vowel sounds and writhe in the air behind you before streaming into you ears. You can’t focus enough to even begin to try to understand the language that flows into you, but somehow you are sure he speaks a sermon about how you are at the same time both a singular blessed pleasure, and a trinity of holes that require fulfillment.

One of his hands slides up your back and to the back of your head, gently, but assuredly pushing your head down.

“Pregare!” he commands you loudly. “Pregare! Implorare!”

“Jesus.” You respond. “Jesus Christ!” His cock filling you, lifting you with spirit up off your knees.

“Si! Supplicare!” Thick calloused fingers find your clit and bless it.

“Sweet Jesus Christ!” You yell out, head bowed low, his cock touching you deeply as his fingers play with your both your cunt and your soul. Your prayers are finally answered as you cum again, feeling your holy spirit flow out all over to baptize him.

He swiftly pulls from you, and steps up onto the seat of the pew in front of you, his cock throbbing and dripping in his hand, a look of a man with a fate that is sealed upon his face. You look up at him in wonder and adoration. He places one hand gently upon your head, among the golden halo of your hair. You open your mouth, your tongue resting on your lower teeth, awaiting his blessing. You hold your breasts in your hands, your nipples gently splaying your fingers. You cup your tits and offer that cup up to him, and it is his gaze upon your perfect bosom that brings forth his blessing. With his free hand he guides the tip of his cock to bestow it on your waiting tongue. You feel his salty warmth, his very life and love, spreading across your tongue and from there through your whole body.

Gasping, his body glistening, he collapses to sit in the pew in front of you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and kiss his neck devoutly.

He sighs and says, “Dirò molti Ave Marias per la confessione questa settimana!”

You respond the only way you know how. “Si!”

“Whatever you do,” Evan thought to himself, “just don’t go back over there.”

And yet, here he was, sitting in his apartment, phone in hand, confused and lonely, starting to wonder. All week long, he’d tried to do his utmost to push thoughts of Kassie, and his little dalliance with her “special substance,” as far out of his mind as possible, but … he hadn’t quite managed to do it.

A one-time lapse in judgement? Fine. A temporary dive into depravity? Couldn’t undo it, at any rate. But surely that was going to be the end of that. Time to steer clear from that four-alarm fire and get his life back on track, right?

And yet …

It had felt so relaxing, and strangely fulfilling at her place … lounging around in the dark pit she called home, wearing her cute pajama bottoms, fucking and sucking whenever the mood struck them, tossing any notion of responsibility and respectability aside. On the one hand, Evan obviously didn’t want to slide into some sort of crippling drug addiction and out-of-control chemical dependency. Once you get into the habit, that’s some hard shit to shake. Yep. As depressed and mixed up as he was, he needed to put the brakes on the whole sordid mess before things went completely off the rails.

But on the other hand … God she was so pretty, in her own thin, pallid way, and so sexy. And she wanted him so badly.

Well, at the start of the week, Evan had firmly resolved not to go back to Kassie’s place, no matter how down he felt. But as the days crept on, and as the dreary reality of his life gradually reared its ugly head once more, he began to waver. The whole week had been kind of hard and he’d had all sorts of shit to deal with that he didn’t want to think about. Job crap, family crap … hell, every time he checked the news, even that was depressing. And so, he was sitting at home when he got a call.

“Hey.” It was Kassie.

“Hi.” He wasn’t sure why he’d picked up.

“What are you up to?”

“Not much I guess.” He didn’t know how honest he wanted to be. There was a pause.

“You wanna come over?”

“I don’t know.”

“We can watch some movies and stuff.”

Part of Evan wanted to say “No” with every fiber of his being and stay a million miles away from that giant bag of crazy. But another part of Evan just wanted to slip back into that state of utter apathy and pleasure and turn his brain off completely. He could feel that other part of himself gaining the upper hand. Whoo boy. It was like she knew how to take advantage of his vulnerability. Hard to resist a girl like that.

“OK.”

“Cool. You wanna come over now?”

“OK.” Evan was willing to do whatever Kassie wanted to do. He was so needy and dejected and she was right there.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Me too.”

“OK. See you soon.”

*****

The minute Kassie opened the door, the weird smell of the place, which might have bothered Evan before but was now somehow part of the apartment’s allure, hit him right in the face. This time she was dressed in a black short-sleeve lace crop top, some skintight black denim jeans (which sported a couple of tears around the knees), and white sneakers. The bottom of her top fluttered just a few inches above her jeans, revealing the pale skin around her belly. Her long black hair, with a smattering of blonde streaks in it, was tied back in a ponytail.

He didn’t know how she did it, but once again, there she was in all her sexy, strung out glory.

She gave him a sneaky little kiss, and then wandered over to the kitchen, where she’d been apparently in the middle of washing some dishes — Evan’s arrival having given her the rare impetus to attempt to clean things up a bit. He sat on the couch, wearing a long-sleeve flannel shirt and grey cargo pants, not sure exactly what Kassie had in mind, or even what he had in mind. She came back into the living room and leaned against the wall.

“You wanna do some more of what we did last time?”

Evan nodded yes. Kassie smiled to herself deviously and walked back into her bedroom, with Evan soon following. Clearly she had everything set up and ready to go. He sat on the mattress he’d sat on before, she tied him up, and he finally felt the feeling he’d been izmit escort frantically running away from, and yet secretly longing to feel, all week long. Oh God. There it was. All his troubles melted away. Oddly, when the needle entered his vein, he felt his penis jump slightly. In her own twisted way, she was taking care of him. As he lay back, she kissed him dreamily and rubbed his shirt a little.

Then she crawled over to her mattress and did the same thing to herself. The moment she pierced her skin and pushed on the injection mechanism, she let out a tiny gasp of pleasure, almost like she was having a little climax. Then she leaned back and wandered off into la land, quietly stroking the bottom of her shirt, her tummy, and the fly of her black jeans. Evan was back. She felt real good.

*****

Like déjà vu all over again, Evan slipped in and out of awareness, at times wondering if he was asleep or awake.

Gradually he realized that Kassie was sitting up on her mattress, looking bored and curious. He noticed her picking up a syringe, sticking it in a bag, and drawing the special liquid up into the chamber. She pushed some strands of hair away from her cheek. Then she held up the syringe and began stroking it slowly with her fingers.

The way she was leaning … her crop top dangling over her breasts, the curve of her butt under her jeans … as Evan watched Kassie play with the syringe, he started to get turned on. At that point he realized that he wasn’t wearing any pants — just a shirt. He couldn’t explain why that was. Had they attempted to fuck at some point, but simply passed out instead? It was all a blur. All he knew now was that, as he glanced at Kassie and the syringe, he was getting more and more aroused.

Perhaps Kassie sensed it, perhaps she didn’t, but she kept lavishing attention onto the syringe, slowly dragging her fingers up and down it, like it was something else long and stiff that she enjoyed dragging her fingers against. At one point she began licking it with her tongue, being careful not to lick the very tip of the needle. Evan couldn’t take his eyes away.

She alternated between caressing it with her fingers and her tongue, but she was really into it now, shifting her body a little and lightly pulling on her lace top, which had begun sliding over her right shoulder, then going back to the syringe. By this time Evan was rock hard. He wanted more than anything to feel the release which Kassie was strongly pushing him toward, and yet denying him.

She spent a few more minutes teasing and stroking the syringe. Jesus, this was torture. Couldn’t she just let it out? Then she slowly began pushing against the device, watching the liquid inside inch closer and closer to the outside. Evan lay on the mattress and kept staring, feeling closer and closer to release, even though Kassie wasn’t actually touching him at all. The liquid slid further and further up the chamber, Kassie being careful not to rush it.

As Evan looked on, he felt suspended between action and inaction, but he couldn’t go anywhere or move off the mattress even if he’d wanted to. It was like his body and the syringe had merged, and drugs was sex and sex was drugs. Kassie looked so hot and playful and fuckable as she teased the syringe with her fingers and tongue, and it all seemed to be connected in some weird way. But more than anything, he wanted her to just push that stuff out of the syringe and free him from his little agony.

This was some seriously fucked up psycho-sexual shit going on.

Finally, just as a tiny little bit of liquid began spilling out of the top of the needle and dripping down the side, Evan released his first meager dribble of cum. About a second later, a much more forceful shot flew out of his tip, landing on his flannel shirt.

“Uhn!”

Kassie didn’t speed up the flow from the chamber at all, but now the drug was streaming out of the syringe and sliding down her fingers. She’d finally let him come, and he was coming nice and good. He’d fought her off for a week, but she’d finally sucked him back in to her sleepy, sexy little junkie world, and there would be no escaping her now.

Evan’s pleasure continued to drip down bodrum escort his shaft — thick warm globs falling onto his stomach, the mattress, and the carpet. She pushed a few more whisps of hair from her face and smiled a sneaky smile to herself, continuing to stare at the syringe, seemingly ignoring what was happening to Evan, although she may have been aware of it.

As the last drops flowed out of the needle, Evan quietly exhausted his load. Kassie picked up a towel and dried off her hand. Evan grew soft and fell back asleep.

*****

He gradually began to wake again, presumably hours later. He looked over and saw that Kassie was no longer sitting on her mattress. Then he heard some sounds coming from the front room and realized that she was probably watching TV.

“Hey Kassie,” he called out to her.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

“OK.”

Evan got up. He took his soiled shirt off and stumbled to the bathroom.

“The hot water knob gets stuck sometimes,” she warned him. “You just gotta turn it really hard. It still works.”

Evan nodded and shut the bathroom door. He came out ten minutes later with a towel around him. Kassie was leaning back on the couch, eating some tortilla chips. He went into her bedroom and put his cargo pants back on, but walked back into the front room topless.

“Uh … you got a shirt I could borrow?”

“Yeah. Just … maybe my white shirt, it’s on the pile next to my bed.”

Evan walked over to Kassie’s mattress and found the same white button-up blouse that Kassie had put on right before he’d left the last time — the one that he thought she’d looked really sexy in. He buttoned it up and sat next to her on the couch.

After watching a few minutes of an old X-Files episode, Kassie suddenly stared at her phone.

“My sister’s such a pain in the ass,” she said. “She keeps trying to tell me to go back to school, but I think that’s stupid.”

Evan sat and listened half-heartedly while Kassie complained about her sister for several minutes.

“I mean, I can do what I want with my life, you know? I don’t wanna worry about anything.” Evan nodded, then got a glass of orange juice from the kitchen. Kassie turned off the TV and started to play some album from a recent band he wasn’t familiar with.

“You might like these guys,” she said. “They’re kind of retro, sort of electronica. The singer, Mike, he’s pretty hot. I guess that won’t mean much to you.”

Evan sat down on the carpet and leaned against the wall, soon nodding off again. Kassie went to the bathroom, then came back in and checked her phone. After a while she put it down and started dancing slowly around the room. She was digging the music. She started thinking about the lead singer. Kassie leaned against the wall across from Evan, closed her eyes, and began running her hands over her crop top and her jeans.

At a certain point, Evan woke up from his nap, and he began observing Kassie. Her eyes were closed at this point and she didn’t even notice that he’d woken up. She was swaying and writhing against the wall, fantasizing about the singer and how she just wanted to go on tour with him and wear weird make-up and take drugs and fuck rock stars every night and have a good time. She reached down to her jeans and slowly undid her fly. For several minutes she just slid with her back against the wall, one hand fiddling with her shirt and the other hand gently resting inside her jeans.

Evan watched her dance and sway like that. Suddenly he felt like he had to fuck her again. She clearly was in the mood for it. The moment he got the idea, he knew he couldn’t push the thought away, and that he wasn’t going to be able to move on until he went over there and fucked her, just as she was, in her lace crop top, black jeans, and ponytail.

He stood up, slowly walked over to Kassie, gently pulled her hand out of her fly, tugged her jeans and panties down just enough to slip himself in, and began screwing her right there, both of them standing up against the wall. Her face grimaced in initial discomfort and surprise as Evan’s cock entered her, but her pussy was already quite wet.

She threw her arms around alanya escort his neck and began whispering “Come on … come on …” in a desperate voice. The pounding made a noise that could have been heard down the street, and a picture fell down from the wall. He was practically lifting her up at this point as he clutched the thighs of her jeans, one side of her black top having slipped over her right shoulder. “Come on … come on …” She could sense it building. Finally he came and she took it all inside of her greedily.

He let her slide back down so that her feet could touch the carpet again. Then they kissed for a few minutes, as Evan rubbed the bottom of her shirt and her belly, then he rested his head against her breasts.

“That was good,” she whispered.

Eventually Kassie slowly slid against the wall to the floor, and Evan followed her. After the Mike Magnificent album ended, a Mazzy Star album suddenly came on. Drowsiness overtook them once again and they fell asleep, limbs intertwined, on the carpet.

*****

Evan found himself, God knows how, back on the mattress in Kassie’s room. As he tossed and turned, thoughts of all his responsibilities flew in and out of his brain — people waiting for him to call them, text them, email them, errands he told himself he was supposed to do, bills he was supposed to pay — and he just didn’t want to deal with any of it.

Kassie understood. She knew how to enable him. He twisted on the mattress for hours, trying to push all these thoughts to the side. Eventually he heard Kassie on the mattress next to him. Yeah.

“Kassie…”

“Uh-huh?” She replied in a groggy voice.

“I need some more stuff.”

“Come here.”

He crawled over to her. Half-awake, now wearing a faded black Misfits t-shirt that had definitely seen better days, and black panties, her hair no longer in a ponytail but flowing around her shoulders in a disheveled mess, Kassie gave him another dose. Evan crawled back over to his mattress. All those pesky thoughts slowly faded from his mind. Problem solved.

*****

Maybe it was the middle of the night, maybe it was the middle of the afternoon. In that state, it was all the same.

Kassie began to find herself flickering between consciousness and slumber. Something was intruding on her desire to avoid the waking world. Eventually she noticed what it was: hunger. The drugs generally dulled her appetite, but it had been so long since she’d eaten anything, she’d truly lost track. But what a hassle to get up, go to the fridge, put something on the stove … she just wanted to sleep. As the growl grew, she began to accept the fact that her body would not let her get back to sleep unless she ate something.

She glanced over at Evan, who was out like a log (and still wearing her white button-up shirt), doing exactly what she wanted to be doing. Suddenly she had the perfect idea. Yes, she could put some nutrition in her body without having to hardly move at all! She crawled over to Evan’s mattress, pulled off his boxers, and gently placed his limp dick between her lips.

Not quite sure if this was a pleasant dream or a reality, Evan seemed to understand that he didn’t need to do a single thing to experience this little treat other than to just lay there on the mattress and do nothing — which is exactly what he continued to do. For a good couple of minutes or so, his penis didn’t even react. “Come on Evan,” Kassie thought. “Snap out of it just for me.” Must have been a hell of a dose she’d given him.

Gradually Kassie felt that her pleasure was beginning to penetrate his lethargy. She sensed his veins enlarging a bit. Then, almost as if she had flicked a switch, Evan’s penis suddenly started growing instantly erect. In fact, he was only about halfway erect when he began coming in her mouth. It was like the cum was traveling faster than the blood. Huh. Kassie didn’t know guys could come like that, but she thought it was cool.

As Evan’s hard-on continued to solidify, he seemingly made up for the delay, because now that she’d finally got him going, he was coming hard. Kassie licked and sucked like it was the last meal she’d ever have. Evan was so helpful and he could give her something to eat without making her have to get up and cook something and he was such a pal. Finally, her stomach would just shut the hell up.

She wiped her lips and licked her arm, making sure not to miss any of it. Then she patted him on the chest, stumbled back over to her mattress, instantly fell asleep, and remained asleep without interruption.

The first time I met Kristeena was in church. She was a pretty girl with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. I had known her for years, and we had grown up together in church, her family sitting a few rows back from mine. She had a large family of seven – typical for a lot of Catholics – and even though she was recently eighteen, she was still living with her parents to help raise the younger children, who ranged from her sixteen year old sister down to the newborn twins. I always felt guilty about the thoughts that went through my head during the service, looking back every few minutes at her studiously listening to every word the priest was saying while I imagined what she looked like naked. I had a good imagination too, because her dresses had always been long for even the most conservative of Catholic girls

But apparently her parents had decided since she turned eighteen to allow her to wear what she wanted. Having known her for years, it was quite a shock to turn around mid-service the week after her eighteenth birthday only to see a pair of panties peeking from beneath a very short yellow skirt. It was Kristeena, and she was wearing make-up too – a first for her. Like her clothing, it must have only been permitted since her birthday. Her thin brows were furrowed in concentration and her luscious red lips pursed as she followed along with the priest’s reading. Suddenly, without warning, her eyes darted over and caught me staring up her skirt. I thought quickly and boldly met her gaze before slowly running my eyes down her body. Her parents, seated to her left, were intent on the Bible in their laps and paid no attention.

Instead of closing her legs in horror, I saw a flicker of a smile on her face and a little pink tongue slowly lick her upper lip. Then, to my astonishment, her legs slowly parted. It was barely a movement, just a slight adjustment to anyone else, but it opened up a whole new world to my gaze. I could see the silky smoothness up her upper thighs, her satin pink panties, and, unless it was my imagination, a small wet spot soaking through. I felt a lump in my throat and turned back to the priest’s melodic droning, my heart pounding in my chest. A moment later I heard a soft cough. Turning back, I saw that her hand had moved from the top of her Bible to her legs and she was slowly running her fingers along her thigh, her brilliant blue eyes vipsevgilim.com glued to my face. Casting a furtive glance over at her parents, she gently lifted her heavy bible up from her lap and quickly slid her other hand beneath it, setting the Bible back down. This way, its heavy pages rested on both legs, but the front was tilted up giving me a look at something I never thought to see in church. Her fingers went straight to her panties, rubbing the smooth fabric with a slow back and forth motion. I saw her arch her back slightly, biting her lip and closing her eyes. I couldn’t believe it. This young beauty was masturbating in church just for me! My cock was straining in my pants, but I dare not move, being that I was seated in the front row. The aching intensified as I saw her gently pull the panties aside, revealing two of the most perfect pussy lips I have ever seen, smooth and pink and now definitely glittering with moisture. She gently inserted one finger, first up to the knuckle, then all the way, and I heard a sharp intake of breath which she covered with another soft cough. Her mother glanced over absently, but saw nothing and returned to her Bible. Kristeena’s eyes met mine and she nodded her head slightly in the direction of the back. I couldn’t believe it: she was asking me to follow! I nodded once and turned back to the front, my breathing quickening, my heart now like a jack hammer in my chest. I heard her slowly rise and whisper something to her mother, before sidling out of the aisle. I waited thirty seconds before doing the same, trying to do everything as slowly as possible, knowing someone would stop me at any second. As I walked down the aisle, I focused straight ahead, terrified of meeting anyone’s eyes. I reached the back door of the auditorium and stepped out into the hall, exhaling sharply as I did so and realizing I had been holding my breath. I looked around for a moment before I saw her at the other end, glancing over her shoulder and disappearing around a corner, her dark hair floating about her head like a ghostly trail. I hurried after her, adjusting my cock in the tight confines of my pants, wishing I could pull it out right there. But I was surrounded by closed doors and the sounds of children in nurseries and Sunday school classes that told me I was not yet in the clear. I reached the end of the hall and found her waiting biristanbulmasali.com for me around the corner in front of an large, open room. She grabbed me by the shirt ad pulled me inside, shutting the heavy door behind me and locking it.

Without a word, our lips met, all the passion from her little show exploding in each others mouths. Our hands were all over one another, tearing of ties and shirts and blouses. Her tongue was buried in my mouth, probing wildly as if battling mine for dominance. My hands found their way beneath her skirt, gripping her luscious ass cheeks, squeezing and caressing them before I shoved them beneath her panties to pull her cheeks apart, gently rubbing her asshole while she ground her hips against the hardness in my pants. But I knew we had little time. As I undid her bra strap, her shaking hands were fumbling with my belt and zipper. Her beautiful tits spilled out, creamy and soft, tiny pink nipples swollen erect with excitement. I devoured them hungrily as her hands finally finished their work with my pants and she dove one beneath my boxers, gripping my cock with inexperienced but eager hands and began stroking it. I could finally handle it no longer, shoving my pants and boxers down around my ankles and pushing her to the ground. She willingly obliged, turning over to kneel on all fours and still wearing her skirt, her perfect little ass turned up in eager anticipation. I dropped to my knees, yanking her panties down to expose her beautiful asshole and pussy looking up at me, wet and pink, cunt dripping with readiness. My cock was throbbing hungrily, my purple head engorged with blood looking as if it was about to explode. Without hesitation I plunged it in, all seven inches sliding through her sopping wet twat all the way up to my balls. She cried out, her back arching and head thrown back.

“Oh fuck!” she yelled.

“Shut the fuck up!” was my whispered response. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

She obediently lowered her head to the floor, covering her hand with her mouth to muffle her moans as I began pumping in and out of her, slowly at first, but more and more rapidly. Her cunt was so tight, I knew she had to be a virgin, but the lack of blood told me that my cock was not the first object shoved in her perfect little pussy. The slap slap of my balls against her was accompanied only manitam.net by an ecstatic moan with each thrust. I pulled her ass cheeks apart exposing her brown little asshole before letting some spit drip down into it, enjoying the way it pooled around the rosebud. Licking my middle finger, I slowly pushed it inside of her. Her groans turned to muffled screams, and I felt her cunt tighten around my cock as she quickened the pace, slamming her ass back against me as if desperate to drive me deeper and deeper into her. I shoved another finger and then another into her asshole, each one accompanied by a cry of pleasure and pain until I had three finger knuckle deep spreading her asshole open. I let a long stream of saliva from between my lips down to her opened hole and watching it disappear inside of her, sliding into her bowels. Knowing I was close, I removed my hands and gripped both hips, increasing the tempo until her punctuated moans became one long animalistic cry. Suddenly, I pulled myself out of her and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her around to face me. Her cheeks were flushed and her lipstick smeared from covering her mouth, and at that moment, all I wanted was to blow my load all over her face. I began pumping my cock fiercely, but she looked confused.

“Why did you stop?” she begged. “Don’t stop!”

“I wanna cum on your face. In your mouth and on your tits!”

Her eyes lit up. Her inexperience was rapidly turning into unbridled lust.

“Oh yea, cum all over me!” she begged. “Cum on my tits and mouth! Yea cum in my mouth! I wanna swallow you!”

These words coming from a girl I had seen grow up in church my whole life were all the encouragement I need. With a gasp, I jerked and a steady stream of jizz exploded from my cock, splattering against her face, tits, and even inside her mouth. She quickly put her mouth over my cock and began to suck me down, swallowing as quickly as her mouth filled up. When I was finished, I fell back to the ground, breathing heavily. She began wiping the cum off her face and tits, and licking it off her fingers with relish.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, “It’s so good!”

I had risen by this time and was pulling my pants back up. She sat there for a moment longer, inspecting herself to ensure no jizz was being wasted before following suit. A few minutes of silent dressing, and we were ready to leave.

She opened the door and started to walk out before stopping suddenly and peeking her head back in.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

And then was gone. I waited a few more minutes before following, my mind racing with what had just happened. All I could think was, “God, I can’t wait until next Sunday!”