XTS Network

I was 22, and I had just moved to New York City. For the first few weeks, while I looked for a place of my own, my friends Kevin and Anna were kind enough to let me stay at their apartment. They had a five floor walk-up on Manhattans upper west side, with a comfortable old couch that I could sleep on.
Kevin and Anna both worked during the day, so I had the place to myself during the days. I got into the habit of lounging around all morning, then going out in the afternoon to look for apartments and to try and find a job.
I’d been in the city two weeks. My friends were great about letting me stay in their place; they said I was welcome as long as I needed to; but I still felt uncomfortable living in someone else’s space. I couldn’t believe how hard it was to find an apartment here; and how expensive rent was. I didn’t have any leads on a job either, and I felt oppressed by the noise and crowds of the city. I was starting to think that moving here had been a huge mistake, and that I should get a bus ticket back to Ohio.
It was about 11 in the morning, and I was walking around in the apartment wearing nothing but a pair of panties. I’d made a pot of coffee, and I was on my way back to the couch to drink a cup and scan the Voice classifieds when I noticed her.
I’ve never been the type to turn heads on the street or stop traffic; you’d better love me for my personality. I am tall (almost 6′1″); my breasts are on the small side; and my hips are on the wide side. I wear glasses. You could describe me as plain, though I might prefer “bookish” or “nerdy”.
Anyway, there she was, framed in the window of the apartment across the alley: a blonde girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, watching me, with my boobs hanging out and a cup of coffee in one hand. I hadn’t even brushed my hair yet. She was slim, with long blonde hair, a pale complexion, and a large bust barely confined underneath her white t-shirt. She was about 20 feet away, staring intently at me through her window.
We made eye contact, and I confess I blushed. I didn’t know how to react. After a second, I kept walking, over to the couch, where I sat down to drink my coffee. I was rattled by the experience. I tried to read the apartment listings, but I couldn’t concentrate. I don’t consider myself a prude, but I was shaken that a stranger had just seen me half naked. I often walked around the apartment topless when my hosts weren’t home. I wondered how often the girl across the alley had seen me. She was obviously pretty, beautiful even. I wasn’t used to being looked at like that; not by strangers certainly.
I tried to let it go, but it wouldn’t let go. I finished my coffee. I wanted to get a second cup. I wondered if she was still there in the window. I thought about covering up, putting on a shirt. I decided not to.
I got up and went back across the living room. I noticed that my nipples were hardening, and I felt a familiar warm tingling in my clitoris. It had been a long time since I had been touched. I stopped in front of the window.
She was still there. We made eye contact for a second. I blushed again, bright red I’m sure, but she didn’t look away. I swear I could feel her eyes traveling over my body. I felt like a stripper or a centerfold or something. I don’t know what came over me; I reached up and tweaked my nipples, pinching and twisting them. It felt really nice. I moved my hands away, showing her the results of my handiwork; my nipples were pink and erect. I thought I saw the tiniest little smile play across her face. Then I lost my nerve. I ran back to the couch, safely out of sight of the living room window. I realized that my pussy was wet. I mean really wet. I hadn’t been touching myself since I had been here; there was too much stress, and I felt weird about masturbating in my friends place. Now I pulled my panties down, and got myself off right there on the couch; on my knees with my tits hanging down and my ass in the air, rubbing my clit till I came explosively, imagining the pretty blonde girl taking me from behind.
The next time I walked across the living room, she was gone. I was a little disappointed. But I had to get dressed and start my day anyway. I looked across the alley several times before I went out, but I didn’t catch another glimpse of her.
I had no luck apartment and job searching that day. By the time I got home, it was almost dark, and I was exhausted. Anna and Kevin had kind words for me; it was hard to get started in the city, something would come up, I just had to be patient. Across the alley, I could see that a blind had been drawn, covering the neighbors window. I fell asleep early and had dark and confusing dreams.
When I woke up, Kevin and Anna were already at work. They had left a full pot of coffee, half a tray of rice crispy treats, and a note that had encouraging words on it. I stood in the kitchen, drinking my coffee, eating a rice crispy treat and read their note. ‘Don’t give up’ it said ‘Remember, you can make it here, you can do this. Don’t let it get you down, it just takes time.’
I felt a little better after reading their note. Then I remembered the girl in the window. I wondered if the blind was still down. A cup of coffee in one hand, a rice crispy treat in the other, my breasts hanging free, wearing nothing but my cotton pajama bottoms, I walked over to the living room window to see. The blind was gone, allowing me to see into the neighbors’ living room, but the blonde girl wasn’t there. Had I imagined her? I put my coffee and my breakfast down, and went to the bathroom to pee and to take care of my hair.
When I came out again, I was ready for another cup. On the way to the kitchen, I saw her. I was still wearing my pajama pants, and nothing else. This time I was sure I saw her smile, in a shy way. I smiled back at her.
She was wearing a little lavender top that said ’sexy’ in sparkly letters across the front. It was obvious that she had nice sized boobs, bigger than mine. Her eyes seemed to trace my body up and down. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I cupped my own breasts, lifting and squeezing them for her. My nipples were already hard. I could feel a warm moist knot forming between my legs.
She definitely smiled at me now; a big happy smile that showed off her perfect teeth. She peeled off her tank top, revealing a smooth, flat tummy, and a nice full bra. She pulled aside one cup, exposing a perfect, pale tit, with a lovely pink nipple at its center. A thick silver ring pierced her nipple.
A wave of lust rolled over me, literally making me dizzy. I felt sexy, being on display like this. I stuck a hand down the front of my pjs, probing the slippery wetness between my legs. I ran my finger up and down my slit while she watched. My clit was singing. I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
I really couldn’t believe myself. I’m not usually an exhibitionist; as a matter of fact, I am painfully shy. And I didn’t know her age, but she was definitely younger than me, maybe still in high school. She was beautiful, but not the type I am usually attracted to; I usually go for girls who are a little edgy, a little punk, with short hair and leather jackets. This girl had painted her finger nails bright red; I never paint my nails.
She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, and her breasts swung free. They were the most beautiful ones I have ever seen. I felt suddenly self conscious about my own small and pointy ones. Hers were round and full, but not at all saggy; they hardly seemed to need a bra. Her nipples were smallish and pink, pointed slightly up. A thick, silver ring pierced each nipple. Her eyes seemed to dare me to go further.
I undid the drawstring of my pajamas, and let them slide down my legs, exposing my nudity. I could feel her eyes on my pussy, where my clit throbbed under an unruly patch of dark hair. I reveled in the lust of the moment.
With two fingers, I spread my pussy lips, exposing my inner labia to her. I couldn’t believe how wet I was already. My clit ached, needing to be touched, and soon. I could feel my own wetness running down my thighs. I wondered if she could see how wet I was.
She stood up, revealing a tight pair of blue jeans. Her nipple rings jiggled and gleamed in the morning light. She turned around. She had a sexy, muscular back. She unsnapped her jeans and stepped out of them. She was wearing a pink thong. Now, I don’t usually go for butt-floss, but damn her ass looked great; round and smooth and firm, with the tiniest thread of material running down the middle. I wanted to touch it so badly, to tear that tiny thong right off her ass and stick my face between her cheeks.
She turned again to face me, and pulled her nipple rings, elongating her nipples, lifting her boobs up. I was rubbing myself rhythmically now, running my fingers up and down my wet pussy, just grazing my clit. Her legs were long and well muscled. I imagined being squeezed between those thighs. My eyes coveted that little pink triangle of cloth that barely covered her pussy.
As if she could read my mind, she hooked her thumbs under her panties and pulled them off. She was bare underneath it; completely shaved or waxed except for an ornamental little strip of hair, like an exclamation point on her mound. Not my style at all, but it looked perfect on her. Between her puffy labia, a small silver ring peeked out. A clit ring, or a hood piercing. She licked a finger, and then placed it on her pussy lips. Her vagina seemed to bloom. She stood with her legs spread, running her fingers up and down her sex. I could see her fingers glistening with wet.
We stood across the alley, watching each other masturbate. She was playing with a nipple with one hand, pulling the ring hard and twisting it, pinching and flicking it. Her fingers ran up and down her pussy, sometimes slipping inside. Unconsciously, I matched her pace. She dropped her other hand to her clit. We fucked our pussies with our fingers and drilled our clits. I felt the orgasm building in my toes, rising through my legs into my spine and then it washed over my body. Across the way, I could see her stomach spasming, her breasts shaking, two fingers completely buried in her vagina, her other hand a blur as she rode her own climax. I came in wave after wave. When it was finally over, she blew me a kiss, then turned around, and ran out of my sight. I took a shower.
As the warm water washed the sex smell and sweat from my body, I replayed the show we had just put on across the alley, and before I knew it, I was turned on again. I lay down in the tub, and turned the faucet full on my spread pussy. The sensation of the warm water washing over me was enough to push me over again. My legs were spread wide, and my clit stood proudly out from its little hood. I diddled myself to my third orgasm of the morning there in the bathtub.
It was a long shower. When I came out again, modestly wrapped in a towel, the room across the alley was empty. After I got dressed, I checked again, but now the shade was pulled down.
I woke up early the next morning. I had breakfast with Anna and Kevin. They had a friend of a friend who might know about a place for me. I was going to meet with him that afternoon. They wished me luck and left for work.
I was ready for her this time. I sat naked on the chair by the window, waiting for her. She showed up half an hour later. She was wearing black leather pants that fitted her tightly, showing off every curve, and a black stretch top. Even across the alley, I could make out her pierced nipples through the tight fabric.
She smiled at me and waved, turning around once to show off. Her tight ass looked heavenly under the leather pants.
Then she pulled off her black top, setting her boobs free. They jiggled beautifully. We played with our nipples, teasing ourselves and each other across the alleyway. I was making a big damp spot on Anna and Kevin’s chair; I was going to have to clean that up later. I couldn’t take it any more; I had to touch my pussy.
I stood up, putting my pussy on display. I rubbed myself up and down, circled my clit, licking my fingers off as seductively as I knew how.
She gave me a big smile, and stepped out of her leather pants. She was naked underneath. Her pussy was in clear view, and I felt a rush of excitement as she began to touch herself in time with me. We just stood there and watched each other masturbate for a while. It felt so good I never wanted to stop.
I paused for a second, and picked up my vibrator from the seat of the chair where I had left it. I held it up to show her. She gave me another big smile and a thumbs up, then ran out of my sight. She was back a moment later, with her own toy in hand. It was as big as mine, pink and penis shaped.
I put my vibrator in my mouth for a second to make it wet, then, looking her in the eye, slipped it up inside myself.
It felt great to have the humming shaft in my pussy. My pussy felt like it hadn’t been full in ages. I slid my glistening purple toy in and out, strumming my clit. I felt like a porn star. Her own personal porn star.
Her pussy opened up and swallowed the dildo. I could see her shaved lips bulging out around it. She closed her eyes and pushed it all the way up inside. She stepped up one leg, putting her foot on the window sill to give me a better view. I did the same, exposing myself to her as intimately as I could. I could see her clit ring shaking as she fucked herself. She was giving it to herself hard now, pulling her plastic cock almost all the way out, then slamming it all the way back in. Her back was arched, and her pierced boobs shook with every stroke. She had reached around her back with her other hand, and now I could see that she was tickling her asshole with one finger.
That was what pushed me over the edge. I buried a finger in my own anus, and cranked the base of the vibrator against my swollen clit. I exploded, my orgasm shaking my body again and again. I pressed the nub hard into my g-spot, and I squirted, harder than I ever have before, what seemed like gallons of clear liquid splashing like pee against the window pane. It seemed to last forever.
When it was at last over, I regretfully let the toy slip out of my pussy. I had a lot of mess to clean up. Across the way, the blonde girl was still shaking with orgasm, her own toy sliding in and out of her spread pussy like a jackhammer, her face all red and flushed, her breasts heaving, one finger still stuck up her ass. I watched until she was finished, idly licking the come off my purple toy. I heard her cry out above the street noise, through the glass. At last it was over. I blew her a kiss, then went to take a shower. By the time I was out, she was gone again.
That afternoon, I found my apartment. I could move in right away. I was elated. I got a call for a job interview. I went out to celebrate with Kevin and Anna. We drank quite a lot and had a good time.
The next morning I looked for the neighbor girl, but she didn’t show. I had a big day in front of me. I packed my bags, and got ready for the trip to Brooklyn, where I was going to live. Before I left, I took one last look out the window. The room across the alley was empty. I locked the door after me and walked down the five flights of stairs. I never saw the pretty blonde girl again.

It’s Saturday night, you know the big “surprise” party that is supposed to be a surprise, but didn’t turn out that way. At least, they had enough class to hire a limo to take you to your destination. You are ready way too early and waiting around for the car to arrive.
The door bell rings much earlier than you expect, looking through the peep-hole you see a driver’s black cap and dark suit. “Must be the driver”, you think as you unlock the door. You step out and the driver says good evening and moves to open the limo door for you. At this point you have yet to see his face, but the way he carries himself and his voice seem vaguely familiar.
You step down into the limo and arrange yourself on the fine leather seat. The door closes and you wait for the ride to begin. The forward partition is up so you cannot see the driver, and it catches you off guard when the other door to the passenger compartment opens and the limo driver slides in.
You begin to protest, but as he turns to face you, you realize it’s your lover Robert. Before you can utter a single word, his lips touch yours and the car begins to drive away. Your shock and resistance fade to acceptance and excitement as he continues to kiss you like only a lover can.
You feel his hands all over your body, caressing you through your clothes and deftly removing them as he goes along. Before you realize what has happened he has you half undressed and in an effort to save some semblance of freshness to your evening wear, you oblige him by removing all but your panties. The feel of his suit against the nakedness of your skin arouses the tactile center of your brain; every movement creates a ripple effect of sensation.
Now your amazement turns to questioning. How? When? Where? All these questions go unanswered as he moves back towards you and begins to place sweet kisses all over your shoulders and neck. He always pays such special attention to your skin. No area of your body goes un-kissed or untouched. You begin to feel your arousal course through you as he continues his assault on your nakedness.
His mouth finds your breasts and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, he begins to kiss them and work his mouth over your now erect nipples. Alternating from one to the next he licks and kisses you as only he can. Making your nipples stick out more urgently as they vie for the attention of his mouth and tongue.
His big strong hands taking your breasts and massaging them, lovingly squeezing them as his tongue lashes at your areolas and nipples. Your breathing has increased and there is a not so subtle aroma of your wetness permeating the air as your lover handles your body.
As your arousal turns to playfulness you reach down between his legs to feel what he is hiding from you behind the dark suit. There in the center of his trousers you feel the erect stiffness of his cock and balls. You can feel how tight and large his sac is and you realize that he has the cock ring on just for you. He has been driving around waiting to pick you up with an erection bulging. You are so wet now you feel the moisture as it crosses through the thin fabric of your thong panties and begins to coat the fine leather interior of the limousine.
His mouth has now crossed down from your breasts to your sexy tummy. He lavishes kisses on you and your excitement grows as you realize he is only inches from his goal, your sweet, soaking wet pussy. Feeling the absence of his attention on your breasts causes your hands to reach up to them involuntarily and you begin to play with your own nipples as he works lower and lower.
His face is now a fraction of an inch away from the tiny front of your sexy underwear. You can feel the heat of his breathe through the fabric as he lingers there. Knowing his proximity to your hot aching hole only serves to make you more anxious to feel him there. Anxious to feel his thick wet tongue as it licks and sucks your hot clit. Anxious to feel the throbbing head of his cock as it slowly enters you.
He teases you as he bypasses your aching wetness and moves his attentions down your long dancer’s legs. You feel ready to burst as he tirelessly ministers his attentions to your body. Oh, how he teases and flaunts his control over you. Your mind envisions reaching up and pulling out his cock, impaling yourself on it without reservation. He takes his time and slowly brings you to a boil, and deep down you know the orgasm will be so much better.
Finally the light at the end of the tunnel, as he reaches up from his position on the floor where he is nibbling your toes and grabs hold of the now ruined panties and pulls them down your legs.
You spread your legs wide eager to show him his invitation to fuck you, and relieved at the feeling of freeness that now comes from your arousal. You want to feel dirty and sluttish. You place your hand between your legs and begin sliding a finger up and down your dripping slit. You bring the finger up and taste yourself. Now it’s your turn to show off. It’s your turn to show your lover how hot and dirty you can be.
He begins to remove his clothes as he stares wild eyed at your actions. You swear you see his cock throb under the confines of his slacks. Within moments he is out of his coat and shirt, and kneeling before you bare-chested he undoes the buckle of his belt and releases his constrained cock. It falls out with force, straining against its leather binding, the head purple and swollen and throbbing. You lick your lips as your eyes move from the cock to your lovers face to the cock again.
Oh, what glorious orgasms will be yours soon as you move forward and place the tip of your tongue against the warm head of his dick. You taste the salty pre-cum drop that clung desperately to the head. You take it in your mouth and begin to suck the dick wildly, hoping to cause the same frustrations you just felt as he teased you without mercy. Licking and sucking giving him your best oral performance, and you can tell the anticipation hasn’t been lost on him. He thrusts his hips and pushes to get his cock more pleasure as you take him fully in your mouth.
You know he cannot hold out for long so you decide to accelerate the pending outcome by sliding your hand up between his legs and massaging his pendulous balls, then slowly moving a single finger up farther, you begin to massage his asshole. This alone is more sensation than he can tolerate and you feel the flood of his orgasm burst into your mouth, you hang on desperately being sure not to miss a single drop of his liquid pleasure.
As his orgasm subsides, you steel yourself for the eventual waiting time until he gets hard again, when suddenly you realize that there is no decrease in his strength or power. He is still fully erect and throbbing.
Sliding back against the seat, he grabs your hips, turns you and places you neatly on your knees, exposing your ass to his view. He loves your ass and you thrill at the thought of his mouth licking you there. Not one to disappoint, he immediately begins to kiss and lick your amazing rear end. Your “20 year old ass” as he calls it. His fingers slide all around your wet aching pussy, teasing your clit while his mouth begins to move between your cheeks. You feel the thick tip of his tongue as it presses against your asshole. You push back wanting him to go deeper into your ass. You love the dirty feeling of ass play and you want his throbbing dick in there so badly.
His tongue pushes deeper as two of his thick fingers slide deep into your overflowing pussy. You rock your hips to the motion of his finger fucking. You are soaked from the top of your ass to the bottom of your pussy now and that’s when you feel his fingers leaving your pussy and the urgent pressure of a single digit pushing against your ass. He slowly almost imperceptibly slides the finger up to the first knuckle.
Then without warning you feel something much larger resting on the slick out lips of your pussy. Then you feel full his rigid cock sliding deeply into the well of your vagina. Hard, and wet, and pulsing his dick fills you. The finger continues its assault on your ass and moves in to the second knuckle. His cock is now slowly sliding in and out of you. You reach up and begin to touch your clit. You ache for this orgasm.
And as a tidal wave of lust crests over your body, you feel amazing sensations. You are racked by feelings of lust, love, and orgasmic euphoria. You flex, twist and gyrate as the orgasm overwhelms your senses. Your ass is on fire and your pussy clamps down hard on his cock, forcing him to begin to buck and twitch as his second orgasm rocks his body and his second load squirts out from between your organs and drips down your thighs.
You collapse on the seat, spent and reeling in the glorious after effects, as small tremors ripple through you.
As you look up you realize that the car has stopped back in front of your house. Your lover explains that you have just enough time to run in get cleaned up and be ready before the real limo arrives to whisk you off to your party. Have a great time!!! And you never know whose eyes you will see as you look up at the driver in the rear view mirror!

I swim a few laps of the pool, stopping at each end to grab some air. One time I take a few extra seconds to watch you climb out of the hot tub, your amazing ass showing as you bend over to dry your legs off. I swim a few more laps, trying to get some of the overabundance of adrenaline out of my body, until, when I reach the edge of the pool after a lap, I open my eyes to your luscious pussy right in front of me.
You sit on the edge of the pool, your legs spread as much as they can, one on each side of my head, and one hand is letting you lean back a bit while the other is rubbing your clit and pussy lips. You try to speak, but your breath catches when you see the look of hunger in my eyes. I gain my feet under me and pull myself to my full height, allowing me to stand a little taller than you are sitting and I move closer to you.
Your eyes watch me like a hawk as you try to guess what I will do next. I reach my hands out to your breasts, taking each one in a hand. You moan as I begin to massage them, and your hand on your pussy speeds up, and the odd finger or two slides in here and there. As my hands move around your breasts, squeezing and playing with them, your breath gets faster. When first my right hand, then my left finds the nipples, you let out a content sigh, allowing two fingers to fully slip into your pussy at the same moment.
While I pinch and massage your nipples, I look down, watching your fingers as they slide in and out of your now moist pussy, getting slicker with every thrust in. I let go of your right breast and reach down and take hold of your wrist. You open your eyes and look at me as I pull your fingers to my lips and proceed to lick and suck your cum off them. At the end of each finger I nibble a little, letting you know just what I will do to your clit when I am between your legs.
By the time I am on your third and final finger you are moaning with every touch of my tongue and groaning at each nibble. When I let your hand go, it doesn’t fall; instead it reaches up to the back of my head, and pushes my head between your legs. I consider fighting you, but as I was planning to go there anyway, I allow you, and begin licking softly up and down your delicious pussy.
Your hand presses my head harder into you, not content with the gently, affectionate licks you are getting. I smile, and extend my tongue so it is long and almost circular, allowing your hand to push it into your pussy. You moan as you realize what you are doing, and when my lips meet your lips, I latch on and begin sucking and moving my tongue around inside of you.
It only takes a minute or so before your arm is too weak from the pleasure to hold your body up and you lower your body so you are lying prone. I lift your legs to my shoulder to get just the right angle, and pull my tongue out. You begin to groan in unhappiness until I slide two fingers in to replace it and begin licking and sucking at your clit. You arch your back at the sudden increase in pleasure and press my face hard into your pussy.
I moan at the absolutely delicious taste of your pussy, and begin to nibble a bit on your clit, making you moan loudly at the pleasure. I add a third finger into your pussy, making you squeeze your legs together tight. I continue nibbling and fucking you with my fingers, not letting you squeeze me out, until your orgasm begins, and you let go entirely to let the orgasm wash over you. Your squirming and shaking begin to move you away from me.
All I can do to keep between your legs is push myself out of the pool until I am lying on the concrete. I never stop licking and sucking on your clit for more than a few seconds, until I have licked up all your cum. I crawl up beside you, and give you a kiss, letting you taste your cum on my tongue. You moan, knowing the taste I am sharing is one I love so much, and drink the taste up like a sweet wine.
As the passion in the kiss builds, our hands wander each others bodies. You moan as your hand reaches my cock and you feel how hard I am, even after all the lovemaking. Your hand lightly grips it, feeling the texture and shape of it in your hand. I take your hand off my cock, and lead you into the sauna. It is not nearly as hot with the door open, but there is a wooden bench in the middle big enough for both of us.
You begin to walk over to it, but I lead you to a bench against the wall. I sit down, and lead you to sit beside me. I kiss you deeply, and run my fingers lightly over your thighs, my nails running in random circles over your skin. Your hips and legs begin moving, trying to lead my fingers and my hand between your legs, but my hand keeps evading you. Your hand moves back to my cock, stroking it more forcefully now, trying to get me one way if not the other.
After a few minutes of the teasing, your hand stroking my cock, my fingers teasing your legs and thighs, you are rewarded with a few spurts of pre cum. I groan to keep from cumming more, and gently take your hand from my cock. You stand up and move between my legs, then begin to kneel. I take charge and stop you from getting on your knees. I turn you around, and pull you roughly onto my lap. You let out a mix of a gasp and a moan as you land hard on me, my cock sliding easily deep into your wet, waiting pussy.
You sit there, your hands on my knees, and adjust to the sudden shock of my entry into your pussy. You feel my cock twitching inside you, and it makes you shift around, trying to see if you can get used to the feeling. Suddenly I grab your hips and lift you half off my cock. I lift my cock up hard, our skin slapping together as I slam my cock into you over and over, making you moan louder each time until you are almost screaming by the time I let you go.
You fall into my lap, my cock sliding quickly into you easily, your pussy so wet after so much pleasure and cum. After catching your breath, you begin sliding up and down on my cock. I grab your hips and help you stay steady, and you use your hands to rub your clit and breasts. Your pace goes from slow to quick over the span of many thrusts, your pussy getting wetter as your sounds become more furtive, hungrier.
You hear me moan your name in ecstatic pleasure and I tell you I am cumming as the first stream of cum shoots deep into you. You slide yourself even faster up and down on my cock, milking my cock for every drop of cum you can. You keep pumping up and down on my cock until I grab your waist and push you down hard on my cock then hold you down so you can’t move up and down anymore. My cock begins to calm, still hard even after cumming, but when you begin to massage it with your muscles, I lift you off roughly.
I set you down, your pussy so wet that our mixed cum is running down your leg. I kiss you deeply, and ask you to wait here. You sit down and begin scooping the cum off your legs, and begin to finger yourself, intending to finish the job I started. You position yourself in the corner on the warm benches, and rub your clit while sliding three fingers into your pussy, mimicking my cock. The door is still open to prevent stifling heat, so you don’t notice my return.
I lean against the door frame and watch you, seeing you please yourself so I can please you better. I stifle a chuckle as you pinch and massage your clit, watching with rapt attention as you slide your fingers in and out of you fast and hard, your fingers spreading apart to spread your pussy even wider. As I sense you are getting close to your orgasm, I walk toward you, laying out the several towels on the warm stone making an almost comfortable layer of padding.
I stand in front of you silently, stroking my cock as I watch your fingers pump in and out of your tight, wet pussy. It isn’t until I let loose a little pre cum that you look up at me, looking hungrily at my cock as I stroke it to keep it hard. You reach out, but I move away, walking over to the towels on the floor, laying down on my side, and looking at you with an invitation in my eyes.
“Join me or shall we both bring ourselves on our own?” I ask, while I begin to stroke my cock as I watch you carefully. You begin to slide the fingers still inside of you in and out again in rhythm with my stroking, and I can see in your eyes that you are imagining it is my cock sliding in and out of your pussy. I slowly increase the speed of my stroking, and your fingers mover faster inside you, making you moan but not allowing your eyes to leave my cock.
“Are you sure you want to stay over there beautiful?” I ask with a smile, my hand dropping away from my cock. You shake your head slowly, but your fingers keep pumping into your pussy. You let out a sharp moan, almost looking away from my cock, and I feel a bit of pre cum dribble down the underside of my cock. I rub it over the head of my cock, making the head of my cock glisten, and you lick your lips. I lie on my back, resting my head on a balled up bunch of towels, and look you in the eye.
“If you want it so much, lover, come and have it” I whisper just loud enough for you to hear, making you shake in pleasure. After a few more seconds you pull your fingers out slowly and try to stand up. You stumble a bit, your legs weak from all the stimulation, but you gain your balance and walk over to me. Halfway there you stumble again, only the edge of the bench keeping you from falling hard to the floor.
You decide to give up walking, get down on your knees, and crawl the rest of the way towards me. I see your amazing breasts handing deliciously, begging for my mouth. I can see your pussy; still dripping it is so wet, begging to have my cock buried inside it. As you get closer my cock twitches in excitement. As you reach the edge of the towel, I stretch my legs out, letting my feet stretch under you. With a look like a predatory cat after its prey, you begin crawling up my body.
When you reach my cock, you draw your tongue almost cat like up the underside of my cock, then suck the head of my cock into your mouth, suckling at it like it was your lifeblood. You moan as the toes of my feet stroke your pussy roughly, and you meet my eyes. I smile lustily at you, and you crawl on, the head of my cock brushing between your breasts, drags along your stomach, and then with an audible noise slaps against your pussy. Not even waiting for foreplay, you kiss me and lean back, my cock sliding easily into you.
You rest back on your heels, my cock buried all the way inside your pussy. You reach out your hands, and I take them. You then use the balance it gives you to slide up and down my cock. You quickly pick up the pace, wanting to feel me cumming inside you again. I let go of one hand and reach down to rub and massage your clit while you ride me harder and harder. After a couple of minutes your body shows your approaching orgasm.
I reach forward, letting go of your hand, taking my hand from your clit, and I grab your ass and roughly begin hammering my cock hard into you. Within a few seconds you are cursing and moaning so loudly it’s almost a squeal. After less than a minute your body begins shaking and your next orgasm starts flooding over you. You almost slam your pussy down on my cock over and over, partly to get me to cum, partly to just feel yourself as full as can be.
You start asking me to cum, talking the dirtiest words to get me to let myself go. I just smile and lean back, causing my cock to stand up even more, and filling you up even more. You ride me harder and faster, allowing the pleasure to build in your pussy again. You lean forward, your palms resting on my chest while your nails dig in as your pleasure increases. I moan a little to help you along, and you dig your nails in harder, trying to somehow trigger my own orgasm.
As you feel another orgasm building in your body, starting at a tingling deep in your pussy and moving outward, you begin to push harder with each thrust onto my cock. I feel your pussy tighten on my cock, and I grin, grabbing your ass again. You moan, knowing what will happen as I begin to slam my cock hard into your pussy, the angle teasing your clit as well. “Fuck Yes!” you scream as you let go, your orgasm gripping your body as you push yourself harder onto my cock than I was before.
You keep up the rapid pace for awhile, your orgasm pulsing through your body, and the entire time my cock shows no signs of cumming. As your orgasm subsides, you slow down until you stop, settling on my cock. Your pussy is so wet I can feel cum dribbling down my cock and balls. I feel you squeeze me a couple of times, then begin to slowly slide up my cock while moving onto your knees again until I slip out, still hard.
I let my head rest back, catching my breath, but after a few seconds I notice you aren’t laying beside me. I look up at you and notice the hunger is still in your eyes, now fuelled by frustration and orgasm. I swallow with difficulty at the sheer desire and need in your eyes as you begin to move closer.

Out of the desert they leaned on weakened wooden frames, buildings with cracked and faded facades- forgotten memories of the past that was, relics and doorways leading back through time. All it took was the right person to come along and open them. The past waited. A man merely needed to step within and claim what had been left there.
Joseph Gray (”Joey” to his friends) peered across this landscape of the past and pulled a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket. He tapped one out into his palm before replacing the pack, then placed the cigarette between his lips and left it dangling. He rummaged through the right pocket of his faded jeans, found his lighter, pulled it out and flipped it open. Flame flickered to life. Joey lit the cigarette, replaced the lighter and inhaled.
So far, everything the old man had told him was true. If his luck continued, the following day might find Joseph Gray a very rich man. After all, the old man’s tale could be summed up in a word: treasure.
Joey blew a smoky breath into the cooling night air. The last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, and shadows unfurled from the ghost town like a dark welcome mat. Joey sighed, tugged at his pack. Time to get a move on.
The house at the end of town sat on a hill, overlooking the main street like a king on his throne. A full round moon hung behind the house’s pointed peaks and cast a dull glow as light fled darkness. Broken windows peered down like shattered, lunatic eyes as Joey approached. Cracked stone steps led up towards the dusty porch. He grinned. This was the kind of place where Norman Bates would feel right at home.
Joey flicked the cigarette to the dirt and ground it into a gutted, twisted filter.
Someone had the foresight to board the place up before abandoning it. By now, the wood was rotting, and the nails were rusty and weak. Joey had no problem ripping the boards off the front door. The wood crumbled in his bare hands. Something about the moist, slimy feel about it disgusted him. He wiped his hands on his jeans. Joey tried the door, found it locked, and kicked it in.
Two things- a musky, foul odor and a sensation of being watched- assaulted him. The first he wrinkled his nose and waved at; the second felt like the tingling of little spiders crawling over his skin. Joey draped his pack over one shoulder, unzipped it and withdrew a heavy Maglite. He flicked it on and shot a bream over the foyer.
On the right, the foyer led to a larger common room. To the left, it ended in a curving archway and a large door. A sweeping stairway walked up into depths of darkness at the far end. Other than these basic architectural observations, Joey saw nothing but wood floors, cracked walls, and a whole lot of nothin’.
Joey took a step inside and listened. There was even less to hear than there was to see. He wrote off the feeling of being watched to paranoia. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He swept the Maglite’s beam up the stairway. Light stabbed the shadows. He could just make out the beginning of a hallway; he’d save the upstairs for last. First, he’d see what he could see on the first floor, then work his way up, and then finally, work his way down to the inevitable basement. He moved the light over the archway to the left and its barricading door. He could just make out the words carved into the frame:
“ABANDONE ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.”
Joey vaguely recalled the words from somewhere else, somewhere he’d heard them before, but he couldn’t make the connection. The knowledge was there, blurry, and just out of reach. He shrugged it off and took a step deeper into the house.
-CRACK!-
Wood splintered under his right foot. Before he could move, it gave way. The Maglite fell from his hand, clattered to the floor and rolled out of reach. Joey felt pain shriek up his leg as the wood bit into his calf and then deeper as he sank. The Maglite stopped rolling and flooded its light into his eyes.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Joey echoed as he tried to claw his way from the splintered mouth sucking him into the recesses of the house. Wood creaked and groaned around him like old men cracking their dried up knuckles in unison. He blinked, blinded, and tried to find something to grasp, to get a hold on and pull him out of the hole.
Then the mouth opened wider, the floor gave way, and Joey fell into the dark.
***
“I hope this isn’t out of line, but you look… absolutely stunning,” Weston Gatlin said, his own stunning smile spreading apart his thick lips and revealing a set of perfect, sparkling white teeth.
Bridget Briswell, senior partner of the Briswell & Briswell Law Firm, cocked an eyebrow and playfully tapped a finger against her chin as if deep in thought.
“Out of line? Well, let’s consider. First, I gathered this was to be a professional rather than personal meeting. You’re a client, and a good lawyer always keeps clients on a strictly professional level. Second, how to take such a compliment from a married man?” she said. Despite her words, Bridget appraised the man seated across from her. Weston Gatlin was gray-haired, tall, and dashing with a dark complexion and a reputation for charm and flattery. He was also a multi-billionaire between his companies and investments in real estate, entertainment, and technology. These days, the name Gatlin was synonymous with success.
“Almost divorced man,” Gatlin corrected with a tip of his wine glass. The wine corresponded with the pricey meal set before them as Gatlin had treated her to dinner in one of New York’s most expensive restaurants under the guise of needing legal advice.
“Well, in that case, let’s just see where the night takes us,” Bridget said and tipped her own glass in response.
“I’ll drink to that.” Gatlin took a long sip of wine. Bridget tried not to think about how much Gatlin had spent on the bottle and followed suit. After all, her law firm was one of the biggest and best in the country, and she was no pushover when it came to pulling in six figures. Gatlin was just one of the elite who pulled in quite a bit more. She swallowed and felt the comfortable warmth of the wine pooling in the pit of her stomach.
“After all,” Bridget added, “tonight I AM absolutely stunning, and I’m not that good of a lawyer.”
Gatlin’s eyes gleamed as they shared a laugh.
Naturally, the night (and perhaps the wine) led them to the top floor of the Gatlin building. Windows on all sides, the twinkling lights of the city blinked and glowed around them as Bridget let her silver dress slip from her shoulders, glide down her body and form a shimmering pool on the carpet around her ankles. Gatlin stifled a gasp at her perfect nakedness.
When Bridget, on her knees, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled out his lengthening erection, Weston Gatlin said thoughtfully, “I love New York.”
Bridget smiled as she took the esteemed Mr. Gatlin’s little Gatlin into her mouth. She knew that as long as she had him in her mouth, this billionaire was at her complete mercy, completely under her power. It was this feeling, this control that turned Bridget on as she began work him with her tongue, her lips, her hand.
She slowly, expertly gained speed, stroking him harder and taking him deeper, flicking her tongue along the shaft, moaning in imagined ecstasy. Bridget knew what men liked, and she was good at pleasing them. This had not been the case a year ago. This had not been the case before she had met Melvin MacMuffin. It was funny how much could change in a year.
Gatlin’s knees almost buckled, and Bridget slipped him out of her mouth. His bobbing erection was shiny and slick with her saliva. It gleamed from his crotch like a wet spear.
“Didn’t plan on cumming this soon, did you?” she said with a wry smile. Gatlin chuckled.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” he said.
A moment later, Bridget found herself on top of pool table, Gatlin’s head between her legs, his tongue flicking out and lapping her, tingles shooting up her body. She closed her eyes and let the sensations flood over her. Her hands gripped the sides of the table. Gatlin gripped her thighs. She moaned, and Gatlin moaned in response between her legs. Bridget felt a smile peel over her teeth. This is what it felt like to have a multi-billionaire go down on you. She giggled. Gatlin was worth every penny.
“What?” Gatlin said, looking up after the giggle. His lips were wet with her.
“Nothing,” Bridget said. She wriggled on the pool table like live bait. “You should fuck me now.”
Gatlin did with a clumsy thrust. Bridget gnashed her teeth at the sudden invasion, and a sharp pain stabbed her gut that she could feel all the way up to her shoulder blades. The pain subtly gave way to the pleasant sensation of Gatlin maneuvering his cock in and out of her, deep in her wet warmth.
She opened her eyes and looked out the windows and the twinkling lights of New York. Bridget wondered how many women gazed over the very same view as Weston Gatlin fucked them on his pool table. She wondered if it gave him a sense of power. Fuck that.
“Stop!” she barked at him, and Gatlin froze, half of his cock embedded inside her. She pushed him out and pulled him to the pool table.
“Your turn,” Bridget said, pushing him back and climbing on top of him. Now she had complete control, and she felt better about it. She’d rather fuck the billionaire than have him fuck her. Semantics and technicalities, she knew, but Bridget was a lawyer. Something as simple as switched positions was enough to switch power and control. Besides, she liked to be on top.
Bridget bucked on top of Gatlin as if she was riding a full-fledged rodeo bronco. She consciously forced her eyes to stay open as orgasm approached, and when it hit her it was as if the lights of the city were fireworks exploding in her eyes. Then- explosions in her groin, in her stomach, in the tips of her fingers. Bridget gnashed her teeth, spittle flying from her lips as she let out a guttural grunt as she came violently on top of her bronco/billionaire.
“Oh, OH. JESUS,” Gatlin muttered, and Bridget regained enough consciousness to pull up, slipping him out of her just as the first rope of jism exploded out of Gatlin’s cock and splattered against her inner thigh. She felt his gooey warmth running down her leg, sticky and viscous.
“That’s million dollar sperm oozing all over me,” Bridget said.
“BILLION dollar,” Gatlin said, and they laughed, the eternal lights of the city around them.
***
Pain and darkness, this was the world to Joseph Gray when consciousness found him. His eyes fluttered open, but he only saw black. The black felt worse than the dreams he had left behind. His consciousness was a void. Memory flapped to life, and he remembered the house, the cracking floor, the hole that swallowed him.
The basement- he must be in the basement. He tried to move, and a scream of electric pain shot bolts through his right leg. Joey moved his hand down to the pain and felt something sticking through a tear in his jeans and with dawning horror, realized it was bone.
Something shifted in the darkness.
Chills spooked Joey’s spine like the tickling fingers of a ghost. In the basement, the idea of ghosts did not seem so farfetched. Joey’s hands scrambled along the gritty dirt around him, and then they happened upon his pack. He reached inside and sighed with relief as he pulled out his cell phone. His breath caught in his throat.
A noise- subtly closer than before.
He flipped open the cell phone and hit the first speed dial button.
***
Mozart drew Bridget out of sleep, and it took her eyes and her mind a moment to adjust to their surroundings and the sound of the symphony chirping from the confines of her purse. She staggered out of bed, away from the obnoxious snoring of Weston Gatlin, and pulled out her cell phone. She tried to force her mind to clarity through the cloudy haze of sleep and sex and wine and flipped open the phone.
“Hello?” she said as she pressed it to her ear.
“Bridget?”
“Who… JOEY?”
“I need help. I’m in Arizona… you need to call Melvin and get him out here. Something very bad… my leg’s broke…’
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What’s happening, Joey?”
“No time to explain, I think I fell into the basement. I… there’s supposed to be this gold, and this old man told me about… wait… BRIDGET, THERE’S SOMETHING DOWN HERE…”
“Joey?”
“OH FUCK THERE’S SOMETHING DOWN HERE. JESUS GOD HELP ME, SOMETHING’S COMING… OH FUCK… IT’S GOT… OH… AAAAAHHHHH!”
The phone went dead.
*** Morgan’s jet-black hair spread out under her head like a darkened halo on the pillow. Jagged bolts of white ran through it like unnatural lightening. Melvin gasped, pumping deep into her, feeling her trim, taut stomach slap his, her hands grasping his hips like handles.
His seed shot through him and into her, into his wife, the witch, and Melvin came with a sharp cry. For a moment the world went white, and Melvin was lost in the moment, nothing real but his love for the woman under him and the sensation of their two individual selves becoming one.
“Oh, babe,” Morgan breathed, the words the first thing Melvin knew as the world came crashing around him. “That was so good.” Her hands caressed the back of his head, her fingers running through his short brown hair.
“You weren’t so bad, yourself,” Melvin said, a sly grin on his face. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Then the door of their shop jangled, and they exchanged glances. Morgan frowned.
“Sounds like we have a customer or worse,” she said.
When they were dressed and made their way to the front of Morgan’s store, they found an old friend. Without so much as a word exchanged, Melvin threw his arms around Bridget Briswell and gave her a long, hard hug. At one point, Melvin knew they could have been more than friends. Of course, that had been before he’d recognized his feelings for Morgan, but despite those feelings, Melvin still felt a deep, inner connection with Bridget.
“Hey, Melvin,” she said into his shoulder.
“Bridget,” he said, relinquishing the hug and looking into her pale blue eyes. “It’s been too long.”
She wore her long tan trench coat, the one that reminded Melvin of old Humphrey Bogart movies. A light smattering of freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, and her shimmering blonde hair bobbed at her shoulders. Underneath the coat, she wore a sly silvery cocktail dress- had she been at a party? On a date? Melvin threw a look at the clock on the wall. The clock’s skeletal fingers pointed toward two a.m.
“It might have been even longer,” Bridget said with an apologetic tone. “But I think someone needs our help.”
A few minutes later, they sat in a back room under a dusty yellow lamp, and Melvin and Morgan considered the phone call that Bridget had recounted for them. It sounded bad, very bad.
Melvin thought about the last time he had seen Joey Gray and his wealth of bulging muscles, sometime shortly before Joey had decided to become a treasure hunter and disappeared to seek adventure and excitement. Before Joey had met the likes of Melvin and his unlikely companion, the mysterious and beautiful Morgan, he had been a lowly security guard; after Morgan had opened all of their eyes to the opportunities of the world around them, Joey shed off the skin of his old life and left to find a new one. Morgan had that kind of effect on people; Melvin understood this more than anyone.
“He said he was in Arizona?” Morgan asked. Her hair was pulled back in a hastily drawn up ponytail, and she wore a long, faded black t-shirt that clung to her curves. On the shirt, a red dragon blew a plume of oranges flames and looked suitably pissed. Still- for having just made passionate love and been forced out of bed, Morgan looked radiant.
“Yes, but that’s it,” Bridget said. “He didn’t say where exactly in Arizona. Just that he was in Arizona.” Her brow creased with worry, and she blew a heavy sigh. “It’s a big state.”
“Could be a problem,” Melvin offered.
“Maybe not. Let me see that phone,” Morgan said and held out her hand. Bridget handed her the cell phone, and Morgan flipped it open and set it in the middle of the table. Morgan got up and walked to the back of the room, pulled a few jars off shelves and put them on the table. She then found an old shoebox, popped open the top and pulled out what looked like a skeletal twig. Melvin would have guessed it was bone but for the small leaf that seemed to be growing out the top.
“What are you doing?” Melvin asked.
“She’s a witch. You still bother asking questions like that?” Bridget said with a raised eyebrows and a thin smile. Melvin was glad to see that his old friend hadn’t lost her wry sense of humor, and he responded by flipping up his middle finger.
“Watch and learn,” Morgan said. She mixed the contents of one jar with another, shook it, and dropped in the twig. Morgan pulled a needle and thin wire out of the shoebox the twig had come from. She wrapped one end of the wire to the needle and dropped the other end into the jar of amber liquid and bone-twig. Finally, she inserted the needle into the battery outlet of the cell phone.
The liquid in the jar bubbled and fizzed. The bone-twig began dancing like a marionette.
“Ok, see that map on the far wall?” Morgan said and pointed. Bridget and Melvin followed Morgan’s finger towards a large map of the United States held up by colorful smiley-faced tacks. At the top of the map in big bold words: “God Bless America!”
Morgan found Joey’s number in the “Received Calls” section of the cell phone and hit redial. The bone twig responded, spinning like a top, stirring the now boiling liquid like a mini-maelstrom.
“Check it out!” Morgan said just as the bone-twig flew out of the jar, shot across the room and thrust into the map against the wall. It protruded like dart. The amber liquid settled to calm. A wisp of steam floated lazily above it.
“Bulls-eye,” Morgan said with a wink. She pushed away from the table and made her way to the map. Melvin watched her for a moment, her shapely legs swaying, her supple bottom clenching under the long black t-shirt. Then he and Bridget exchanged uneasy glances and followed her.
Bridget squinted and examined the area where the bone-twig pierced the map. It seemed to be jutting from the center of the orange-ish Arizona section as if the state had popped an unexpected boner. Or maybe Melvin just had boners on the mind after his busy night with Morgan.
“There’s nothing there,” Bridget said.
“Nothing labeled,” Melvin corrected. He smoothed the cowlick poking from his scalp.
“Well, that doesn’t really help us. We need more information. Trust me, in my experience, you never act without information. And this,” Bridget said as she flicked the bone-twig, “is a start, but we need more.”
“She’s right,” Morgan replied, tapping a long finger against her chin. Bridget and Melvin turned towards her, expecting what Morgan said next.
“And I know someone who can help us.”
***
Red eyes sparked to life in the dark and approached, floating through the black like flaming coals.
Joey’s own fluttering eyes widened in panic; his heart raced, and his mind cried at him to move away, get away, escape! He then felt the unforgiving spine of the wooden post pressing against his back and realized his wrists and ankles were chained behind him, on the opposite side of the post. The rusty shackles clinked and bit his flesh as he struggled. His heart sunk as he understood that escape was not possible. A dull pain throbbed in his broken leg.
The flaming eyes loomed over him. A voice (husky, feminine and throaty) cut through the shadows and touched Joey’s skin with a chill.
“Who… arrrrrre… yoooooou?” it whispered with hot, tepid breath. Joey thought he caught the scent of rotten meat hanging on the words. He gagged, shut his eyes, and turned from the voice. This could not be real. It was some kind of horrible, surreal nightmare. It had to be.

I am working as a male servant in a family, I am 21-year-old medium build having 5ft 8 inches height. After attending school in English unto 5th I turn to work due to some problems. My mistress is very beautiful woman in this world. Anybody see her he will definitely keep on staring her beautiful curves. I was fortunate to have sex with such a lady. It all happened at the time of holi, our Saab has gone to America for the last 2 years, we stay there with her 3 year old boy. On the day of holi after finishing her enjoying activities mistress come with all her body tainted with color. After taking her bath she left for her bedroom without taking lunch. For the purpose of asking if she needed her food in the bedroom I went there. The doors were open as soon as I entered the bedroom I was shocked on seeing nice features. What was attracting my attention were her large round breasts that were standing hard and strong over the chest of 36 size. She was sleeping on her back.
She was wearing a loose gown that had moved up to expose her milky thighs and the at the top two buttons were also open thereby I could easily have the view of her half exposed boobs. With all this my Lund kumbe jaise khada ho gaya.
She was wearing a loose gown that has molike electric current and I felt my body shudder. This arose me to touch her every part of the body. Getting no adverse reaction my hands became bold and slowly I touched the boobs they were rock hard and then I slid my hand deeper. By now my cock almost was jumping out of my lungi. I was enjoying the hard boobs in my palms but did not press them hard, I was afraid that the mistress will wake up. I put my hands on the buttons of gown and opened the remaining two buttons I was able to expose her both the boobs. I again make it sure that she is asleep my next target was her love temple I pushed her gown up from over the thighs and to exposed her choot , I was truly surprise as she was not wearing any panty, her choot was clean shaven I lost my control by looking at such sweet exposed choot ,which is right now is for my disposal whatever form you want to use. I hurriedly pushed aside I lungi and took out my hard cock that is almost 8 inches long and 2 inch thick. I was rubbing my lund very hard. I pushed her legs aside and put my hand on the clean-shaven choot ohhhhhhhhh god I was in heaven I can t describe the pleasure of rubbing my hand on hairless pussy. My fingers started searching for her love hole in her choot, they found their way. My middle finger went inside the opening and I pushed it still deeper. That bitch sorry my mistress was discharging a mug of juice from her sweet pussy my fingers were made wet by her juice! I started licking juice which was on my finger, Yeh it taste very great so I decided to feel it from the source .As I touched my tongue on the pussy lips and moved along its slit ,she slowly started spreading her legs to give me more access to her sweet cunt. I thought that, this bitch is cooperating me to fuck her as she has not tasted any lund after her hubby left her 2-year ago.
After enjoying her pussy by eating I was ready to give her the my lovely pop, that is my lund right in her choot. She was still acting like she is sleeping, later she told me, on holi lots of men folk has pressed her body on the pretext of applying color in the locality, she was really horny on that day she was very hungry for cock. My boldness increased with the thought that see also want the same thing, now I was nude at the bottom I started rubbing my cock with the hand for a while looking at the her exposed cunt. I suddenly climbed on her body and spread her legs as far as possible by force I made my way in-between her thighs. Within a second my lund has made his way into her sweet choot, my virgin lund was enjoying the friction of her choot which was very tight, her hubby lund may be smaller then my size, after this only my half lund was inside I applied a powerful shot to push my all lund in her choot, her slippery cunt has made it possible for my lund to go its full length, the excitement I got while pushing my lund in and out of her choot it’s not possible for me to describe it in words.
These powerful strokes made her to moan ,she opened her eyes and to protect her dignity she started shouting me “Hey you naukar what you doing to me , how you dare to this to me I am your Memsaab, leave me alone and get lost from here and don t show me your face again”. “Calm down you bitch, you are the one who wanted at first place, now you are my sex slave, see how your pyaasi choot is treating my lund with giving a tight grips all over my lund full length”. Now with request she said ” Please Sunny leave me, tomorrow how I am going to face my husband, please for god sake”. “You bitch, you are the one who arose me at first place by exposing your boobs to me I am a virgin boy I can’ t resisted the temptation of your body, let me do this for you for one time only”. Her resistance was merely a show off she was actually hungry for cock till now she has enjoyed every moment by closing her eye.
I was also determined to give her fuck of life today, so I held her hands and pushed my lund deeper. With a single powerful stroke her choot has eaten my full cock and pussy was giving lot of lubrication. OOOOH MAA mar gayi she started crying in pain but after sometime her crying turn in moaning with pleasure. Next moment she pushes her ass up with my motion to swallow my cock deeper, now she was helping me in doing her chudai. So I started to fuck her hard and fast. I caught her boobs and held them with all my might. She cried due to crushing of her balls , ” Please don’t press them hard . It pains me! Please fuck me! harder and harder! FUCK ME FAST , FUCK YOUR MEMSAAB FASTER IT’S MY ORDER”. Her moaning is arousing me to hit her choot harder, my rhythm becoming faster and faster. In pleasure she was shout “where you have kept this mighty lund of your, why you have not given me this before I am your sex slave from now, whenever you want to fuck me I will be available for you”.
Her cunt was all wet with the juice which is continuously flowing and inviting me to fuck her harder I continued fucking her and her ass supporting my virgin cock fuck her cunt and waves of pleasure continued to sweep all through my body. My motion become faster it was just few moment before my ejaculation “Memsaab I am coming you want it inside?”.”NO please fire your cum over my boobs I like to taste it”. My thrusts on her choot grew faster and faster. I was feeling all the final friction in her choot I grabbed her body tightly from behind. The last few moments were unexplainable, Quickly I removed my cock from her cunt and got up to ejaculate on her 36 size boobs. It all got spread on her breasts as I fire my loaded cum 4 times holding my cock in my right hand very tightly. I was totally exhausted so I fall down on bed beside mistress. She started tasting the cum by licking it directly from her boobs, by lifting the boobs with hands. It was a exciting view to watch her licking my cum from her boobs.
After nearly 20 min when I came back to my sense I speak to mistress ,as she was still looking at my cock very passionately ” Ohhh Mistress! I am sorry! I got carried away and fucked you. Please forgive me and this will not going to happen again. “taking my cock in her hand and licking it she said, “NO! You don’t have to say sorry to me, You are the most important person to me now as you have brought me to this world of pleasure, You are always welcome to fuck me whenever wherever you want, now onward I am your sex slave ,You have got a MOST wonderful cock, today I felt like I have tasted a real MAN “.I was most happiest man after listening to her words. After this we fuck twice everyday and two times in night, and whenever we are alone in house she will not allow me to wear cloth while working, she also be in her birthday suite only. My mistress treated me like her husband ,we played almost all type of sex games for two month. On one unfortunate day her husband came and now he has taken her to USA. Now in America she enjoying more then this, last time she told me that she has got a cockwala MUCH MUCH bigger then me my size. She is thoroughly enjoying it that is of a Black American NEGRO who is having cock size 12 inches she has written me her complete story.

Hello all,
I wish to relate a true experience which occurred not too long ago.
Given the intimate nature of this experience and the fact that an aspect of my private life will be open to public scrutiny, I trust you will all appreciate my desire to remain anonymous…but that doesn’t mean that you can’t write to me with your comments, criticisms, etc.
Please, please, please, please do so. I promise to reply to every e-mail.
The fact of the matter is that I share your shameful (but decidedly delicious) penchant for group sex (why would you otherwise be here?). I practice it and enjoy it thoroughly…my husband “Tom” indulges my fancy and jokingly attributes my healthy sex drive to a hormonal imbalance.
Perhaps I should describe a little about my circumstances before proceeding. I am married to an expatriate based somewhere in Asia; and being an English woman abroad during these past 12 months has been a lonely existence. As it is, discovering the internet has helped alleviate the boredom somewhat while Tom has been on duty.
The times we have together when Tom is off duty is spent traveling and exploring the region; during which time we test the limits of my sexual appetite (discreetly of course, since the expatriate community is a small one). He is always around to ensure my safety during these forays.
My most recent experience occurred when we were on holiday in Phuket, Thailand last April when Tom arranged for me to take a commuter bus ride in a bikini. Phuket, as you may know, is a beach resort and so scanties weren’t too unreasonable.
While I may not be the prettiest girl around (I’m quite plain looking…slim, 24, 34C, auburn hair), I should think that the presence of a female clad in nothing but a white bikini and reeboks standing within a crowd during the rush hour would be sufficient to tempt untoward advances. And how right I was!
The bodies were packed tight around me so that I could hardly move. Eventually seemingly casual brushes against various parts of my body became more daring when it became apparent that I wasn’t protesting.
Before long, my bikini top was pushed aside to free my tits which were immediately mauled for all they’re worth. Strange nasty fingers invaded my thong and began probing my vagina which was well moist by now. I was gasping!. Similar naughty treatment was accorded to my bum.
Meanwhile, fingers (I don’t know whose, much less cared) sought and found my nipples, tweaking and pinching them mercilessly. I was delirious at this stage and can’t recall all that much but I do remember someone’s(s) (thank you if you know who you are) twisting both my nipples till the pain or pleasure caused me to moan audibly.
I think that was the trigger which signaled “free for all”. Anonymous fingers probed and manipulated my clitoris which began a series of powerful orgasms. The sensory overload caused about 5 (to be honest, I lost count) orgasms at the end of which my knees buckled from exhaustion. Fortunately, I was jammed tight among a sea of bodies, unable to move or fall.
When I finally got off at the bus depot after an hour of uninterrupted groping, I was delirious. The bus driver and the night watchmen at the depot wanted payment in kind for the bus fare (I didn’t have the money…where would I have put my purse?).
Tom who was trailing the bus in a hired car had to practically fight the driver and his mates off (all 7 of them wanted to fuck me there and then. I was in such a state of heightened arousal that I would have done anything they asked - in fact, I was begging for it- but Tom was very sensibly concerned about unprotected sex, particularly in Thailand).
They eventually settled for blowjobs and a hundred dollars each. I then spent the next hour and a bit attending to 7 erect unwashed grimy cocks, sucking each one in turn under Tom’s watchful eyes. As the evening progressed, after each person ejaculated, he would continue to fondle my now very sensitive nipples and vagina: whipping me up into a frenzy while my head bobbed up and down the length of his colleagues’ cock.
Once or twice, the night watchmen tried to relent on their deal and attempted to fuck me (in my exhausted state, I was in no condition to resist) before Tom intervened. With the benefit of hindsight, we were lucky, the situation could have deteriorated if Tom hadn’t exercised sufficient control.
They could have easily detained Tom and raped me there and then. I guess I was dimly aware of this fact and concentrated on giving each and everyone of them the best blowjob they’d ever had. I made sure my tongue continued flicking over the sensitive tip of their cocks as they each ejaculated in turn, ignoring each salty stream as it blasted onto my face and into my mouth.
When we eventually left, I was soaked in come (I don’t swallow …hahah). My chin and cheeks were encrusted with spunk. My poor abused nipples were sore and bruised, they remained extra sensitive for at least a fortnight.
(Girls, I know this isn’t technically a gang bang but, believe me, you’ve still got to try it!)
I’d like to tell you all more about the time when, as a dare, I worked as a bar hostess for a night in a karaoke nightclub in Hong Kong (when I inexplicably ended up entertaining a rugby team), or when I starred in a private video in Turkey (no harems here but I did have a turkish bath in a men only establishment), or when Tom sold my body for a thousand dollars a night in the Philippines to a business traveler who had, unknown to us, pooled 5 others together for the price; but to mention a few adventures.

I was there when Laura Hollander learned of the death of her husband. I was cleaning the Hollanders’ pool, and Laura was sitting at the patio table reading a magazine when the doorbell rang. That was a quarter century ago. I am still certain today that had I not been there at that moment, events would not have unfolded the way they did, and I would not be the man I am today.
I was just a student back then, and cleaning pools after school was how I made my pocket money. I had about twelve regular customers in our gated community just north of Scottsdale. The Hollanders were my favorite customers because they didn’t have any kids, so it was always peaceful in their backyard. It was professionally landscaped, too, and with its flowery hibiscus trees, billowing red bougainvilleas, and pungent gardenia bushes, it was a tranquil garden respite from an otherwise hectic, kid-infested neighborhood. The Hollanders kept to themselves, and though Laura was usually at home when I was there, we didn’t talk all that often (not before that day). She was always gracious, however. I would let myself into their backyard every Thursday at three, trying to be unobtrusive, but no matter where she was in the house or what she was doing, she would always come outside to say hello and offer me her hand and give mine a friendly squeeze. When I look back on it now, it was like the sun was always behind her at that moment, lighting up wayward strands of her curly sandy blonde hair. I remember her that way. She always looked dressed up to me. Even in simple beach pants and a halter-top, I thought she was too elegant and attractive to be a housewife. She had long graceful limbs and a trim but womanly figure. There was a kindness in her hazel-green eyes that made me feel comfortable around her. She would occasionally bring out a pitcher of iced tea or fruit punch, and after about five exchanges of “Thank you Mrs. Hollander” and “You can call me Laura,” I finally got used to calling her Laura.
On the day Laura’s husband died it was unusually warm, a bright fall afternoon in the desert highlands. The air was dry without the faintest hint of a breeze. I was patiently skimming oily brown leaves from the pool. Laura was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t see her eyes, and as I often did, I imagined she was watching me, admiring my long, lean muscles and honey brown tan. I worked methodically that day, luxuriating in her presence and the calm of the garden. When the doorbell rang, she took off her sunglasses and looked at me. “Who could that be?” her eyes said.
I went back to work. Moments later I heard her muffled gasp.
“Oh God no!”
I could see her bright sundress against the black silhouette of two police officers at the front door. One of the officers stepped into the house, hat in hand, and led her by the arm to an overstuffed chair. Laura sat down and put her face in her hands. The officer had his back to me, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
I put on my shirt and organized my equipment. I thought about leaving, but I couldn’t. I knew something terrible had happened, and I felt like I shouldn’t run from it. I learned later that evening that her husband, Dr. Peter Hollander, had died in a car accident while in L.A for a conference.
It seemed like the officer talked for a long time, but I suppose it was only a few minutes. He set some paperwork on the coffee table and noticed me. I think he asked Laura a question. I saw her shake her head no and say something. I guessed the question was, “Is that your son?”
After a few more minutes, he showed himself to the door.
I couldn’t look away from her. Her face was still in her hands, elbows on her knees, and she looked like she wanted to melt into that big chair. The sun moved before either of us did. I thought to tiptoe away again, but it still didn’t feel right.
I wanted to say something, but I didn’t want to startle her, so I moved some of my equipment around to make some noise. I saw her look up. I took a deep breath and walked over to the back screen door. She was looking at me, and her face was wet with tears, but she was not crying.
“Mrs. Hollander,” I said knowing the moment called for some formality, “is there someone I could call for you, something…anything I could do for you?”
“No, Kevin,” she whispered, “there is nothing anyone can do for me right now.” She kept looking at me, and the sadness seemed to radiate from her.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered back. “I’ll go.” I hung my head and began to turn away.
“Could you…” she started and I turned back. “Could you sit on the patio for a few minutes, just so I know someone’s there, until I can get myself together a little bit.”
“Yes ma’am. I can do that.”
So I sat at the patio table and looked at the pool. I watched the sun make its way over the glistening ripples of water. I had never experienced such quiet. Then I heard her soft voice.”
“Thank you Kevin. I’m okay. You can go.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am going to be fine. My sister is coming.”
“I can stay until she gets her…”
She pursed her lips in a way that told me she thought I was unnecessarily concerned. “She’ll be here any second,” she said, “and I really will be fine, Kevin. Don’t worry.”
As I looked at her I could sense her already growing resolve. Her face was still streaked with salty tears and her hair was in tangles around her face, but she had clear eyes and a determined expression. I felt strangely connected to her just then, like we were truly seeing each other in that moment. I saw that she was beautiful and strong-willed. I wondered what she saw in me.
“Thank you,” she whispered and turned away.
I went home and stretched out in my bed and I felt an unfamiliar pain in my heart.
Laura’s sister came to live with her for a while after that. It was about ten days after the funeral when I when I first came to clean the pool again. I wondered, curiously, whether I should ask Laura if she still wanted me to clean the pool. I don’t know what I expected - that she’d let the pool go to hell now that her husband was dead? I brought a bouquet of flowers for her. The neighbors had gone in on some flowers for the funeral, but I wanted her to have something from me.
Laura’s sister answered the door. The flowers made her think I was a delivery boy and she asked me whether she needed to sign for them.
“I’m here to clean the pool,” I said. “I brought these for Mrs. Hollander.”
“Oh you sweet boy,” she replied with a genuine smile. She looked very much like Laura and she had Laura’s same easy gracefulness.
“And I wanted to make sure it was okay to clean the pool.”
“Oh, I am sure it is, but let me ask Laura…” She turned her head. I heard Laura’s voice approaching.
“It’s okay, Doris, I’ll get it.” She sounded tired, but there was warmth in her voice.
Doris opened the door wide for Laura.
“Oh Laura,” Doris gushed. “What a kind gesture, don’t you think? What a wonderfully sweet pool boy you have.
Laura looked at me and for the first time I noticed the bright amber streaks in her green eyes.
“He is not the pool boy, Doris,” she said quietly. “He is the young man who owns the company that cleans our pool.”
That made me smile, and I thought I saw Laura’s lips purse in a strained smile.
“Hi Kevin,” she said in a whisper.
“These are for you.” I stepped forward and handed her the flowers. “I…” I started to say I was sorry, but decided not to remind her of her loss. “I hope you like them.”
“There beautiful. Thank you.” There was a long pause, and again I felt like she was looking inside of me. And then a tear streaked her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she started, and then she turned away.
“There very pretty,” Doris said too loudly. “She will be okay,” Doris whispered to me unconvincingly, like she was surprised by Laura’s reaction.
That night I was again afflicted with an unfamiliar pain in my heart. It would be a while before I learned of the importance of those moments with Laura.
Time passed and the seasons changed, and Laura, to her credit, seemed to have grown out of her grief and returned to her relaxed and cheerful self. I could tell, however, that she now looked forward to my weekly visit; I figured she saw it as an opportunity to talk to someone. She would ask about school and friends and my plans for after graduation.
One time I was uncharacteristically gloomy, and Laura asked if I was having trouble with a girl. It was like she had read my mind, and I told her about my conflicted feelings for Cindy, a girl I was dating.
“But do you love her?” she asked. She leaned toward me and peered at me as if she was trying to coax a truthful answer.
“Kind of.” I replied.
“There is no ‘kind of.’ You either love someone, or you don’t. So…?”
“I guess not.”
“Then there’s your trouble. Don’t waste time with girls you don’t love, Kevin. You’ll only hurt them and make yourself miserable. And don’t pretend to be in love just to get attention. Go out and find someone you love. Love first, then everything else.”
I knew exactly what she meant. Though I had described my predicament cryptically, she had gone straight to the heart of my consternation. I broke up with Cindy even though I am certain that we would have lost our virginity together had we stayed together. But Laura was right; the time you spend with someone, the intimate time, is precious, and love and honesty are more important than sex (even if you’re a virgin, or perhaps most importantly if you’re a virgin).
I finally received my acceptance and a scholarship award from the University of Southern California in the spring. A few of my buddies wanted to celebrate by taking me to a bordello just across the border in Nevada. I declined. I didn’t want my first time to be with a hooker. Of course, I didn’t tell my buddies that. I don’t think they would have believed I was still a virgin.
I had had a few opportunities since breaking up with Cindy, but every time I would recall Laura’s advice. Then I would find myself wishing I could lose my virginity with someone I loved; it always killed my mood, and I always backed out of those one-night stands with some excuse or another. I know it seems silly now, but at the time I thought there was something wrong with me. The summer after graduation Laura began to talk to me for longer periods of time. She had always been genuinely interested in what I had to say, and she listened intently, but I think my going off to college excited her and steeped her interest. She wanted to know about USC and what I wanted to study and where I pictured myself five, ten, twenty years. I sometimes spent an hour with her, sitting at her patio table drinking iced tea and talking. Her fascination with me made me feel good about myself. I learned more about her, too. She and Dr. Hollander had married right out of high school, and they went to college together at Cal Berkley. Then she worked full-time to put him through medical school. They moved to Scottsdale when he started his internship at St. Joseph’s Hospital. Laura no longer had to work after that, and she got pregnant. They lost the baby in childbirth, and while she didn’t come right out and say this, I knew that Laura had also lost the ability to have children and that it had devastated her.
One day she told me she wanted to go back to school - was planning on it actually, “someday.” It finally made sense to me, why she had been so fascinated about my situation. Unlike me, however, she knew exactly what she was going to study.
“Marine biology?” I looked back at her across the patio table with a quizzical look.
“Yes. I want to spend some time on a boat, in the fresh air, do research, help animals, and learn something totally new.” She was as animated as I had ever seen her. Her eyes sparkled, she was all but giggling, and it was like all the years that separated us had melted away.
“I don’t even know where one would go to study something like that?”
“San Diego,” she said sprightly. Then she sighed. “Oh, if only I were younger.”
“Why?”
“I am going to look pretty silly on a campus full of young people.”
“I don’t know about that.” I meant it. She laughed.
“C’mon, Kevin. And it’s not like there are many women at all, let alone any women my age, studying graduate level biology.”
“Lie about your age.” I said smiling. “Tell ‘em all you’re… twenty-five!” She shook her head and smiled. I continued. “Heck, I’d believe it. Who knows, maybe you’d have some fun.”
This made her burst out laughing. When she settled down she looked at me, but she wasn’t looking inside me this time. Instead, it was like she was trying to figure out my hat size. I don’t know what she was thinking.
“Thank you, Kevin,” she said coyly.
Several weeks later, I mentioned that I would only be cleaning her pool a few more times before I left for USC. A confused look came over her face, and I thought she was concerned about finding someone to replace me.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “I sold all my equipment to my partner Brad, and he’s reliable. I will bring him around to meet you.”
“It’s not that,” she said, and she was looking into me again. “I just…” She had a look of pain on her face that seemed familiar to me as she struggled for words. “I will miss you.”
We were standing only a few feet away from each other. She was wearing an amethyst cotton shirtdress with a wide white leather belt, and I noticed that with the sunlit patio behind her I could see the silhouette of her hips and legs through her dress. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her face was flush with color. Her skin was creamy, and faint freckles were dappled across her nose and under her eyes.
She was lovely and alluring, and a powerful notion to kiss her surged up within me, and it surprised me, and I think I trembled. And then she stepped towards me, put a hand on me cheek, and kissed me on the lips. Not with “passion” per se, but it was no quick peck either. Her lips were moist and soft, and as our lips parted I felt something like the prick of a pin that sent a charge of electricity through me. Then she stepped back and spoke softly.
“I can’t believe you are leaving; it is all happening so soon.”
She hung her head. Then she turned and went inside.
Until that moment, I had not thought of Laura in a raw, sexual way. I had fantasized about her on occasion, but they were silly fantasies involving things like her greeting me in the nude, or imploring me to swim naked with her - mere trifles of the mind. Until that day, fantasizing about actual physical contact with her seemed ridiculous. My fantasies about Laura were about to take a turn, and the one I indulged that night was significantly more urgent, vivid, and physical than any I had imagined before.

I didn’t leave my room until ten o’clock the following morning. My mother greeted me in the kitchen.
“Good morning sweetie,” she said with her usual cheer. “Oh, before I forget, Mrs. Hollander called. She has a project she wants some help with tomorrow morning. I told her you would rearrange your schedule. She said she would pay you. I think you should tell her you would be happy to do it for free.”
“Okay.”
Then my mom walked over to me and made sure she had my attention. “That poor, dear widow. You make sure you are especially kind and nice to her.”
“I will.”
My mom smiled. “She is very fond of you, you know.”
“Really?”
“She told me I was very lucky to have such an intelligent, handsome, and considerate young man for a son.”
“She said that?’
My mom only smiled and patted my head.
I arrived at Laura’s house at eight o’clock that Saturday morning. There was a small guesthouse with a garage in back of the main home, and the garage door was up. Laura was inside, going through some boxes. She waved me in.
“Oh thank you for coming, Kevin. It is so sweet of you.”
She was wearing black stretch culottes that clung to her hips and legs like tights. Her sleeveless powder-blue blouse was open at the neck. Her hair was pulled back in a bob of sun-streaked curls. Her lips were a soft and deep red. As I took her hand, I noticed that her nails were manicured and painted to match her lips. She put her other hand on my shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.
“I have decided it is time for me to move,” she said looking me in the eye.
“Like ‘move’ move?” I asked.
“Yes. Move away from here, start a new life. So, today I am cleaning out the garage. All I need your help with is moving the heavy things and getting the stuff from the shelves I can’t reach.”
“You’ve got it.”
I spent the next few hours pulling down garden tools and boxes full of Christmas lights and the like. She organized the stuff, throwing most of it away, and she repackaged and marked the boxes she wanted to keep.
At one point she called me over and showed me a large framed picture of her husband and herself in front of a gaping expanse of canyon on what looked to me to be an antique motorcycle. The small, oxidized brass plaque said “The Grand Canyon: July 15, 1953.”
“We were eighteen then,” she said wistfully. “It was our honeymoon.”
Laura was stunning in the picture. Her hair was longer and blonder, and she was thinner, almost skinny. Peter Hollander’s face looked nothing like mine, but in all other respects he could have been me - thick, wavy gold/blonde hair, lanky and tall, a broad smile.
And then I did the math, and I almost blurted out something embarrassing; Laura was forty-six years old. She was three years older than my mother. That couldn’t be. I looked at her and she was already looking at me. I must have looked a little bewildered because she smiled and her eyes flashed. She was so beautiful, I thought.
“Wow,” was all I could offer. Then finally I said, “You’re a really great looking couple.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Here.” she started to reach for my face. “You’re going to get hair in your eye.” She brushed my hair away from my face. It fell back to where it had been as soon as she pulled her hand away. She laughed. I palpably felt something change between us. For a faint moment, I thought we were going to kiss. And then she turned away.
Later that morning, while I was sitting on a chair taking a break, she was clearing off a shelf above her head with her back to me. I had been watching her intently, and now some of my late-night thoughts were coming back to me. I caught myself admiring her tightly wrapped, shapely bottom. I sighed. What a great looking ass, I thought in my own juvenile way. I started to focus on her crotch and felt a stirring deep inside of me; then I heard her voice.
“Kevin, could you give me a hand here?” She was on her tiptoes, arms raised, trying to prevent a box from tipping and falling to the floor. I jumped up to assist. I stood behind her and reached for the box. I had to reach under her arm, and my whole body was pressed against hers. The box was heavy.
“What is in here?” I asked, my lips close to her ear.
“Medical Books.”
“Here, let me…” and I tried to push up with my legs to get the box to tip back. It was then that I noticed my erection. I was in a pair a fleece gym shorts, no underwear, and I could feel the softness of her bottom and the stretch of the fabric of her tight slacks as I lifted and pressed against her. I had to try again, and again there was the friction and the pressing. She reached back and put a hand on my hip to steady us, and then I could have sworn she arched her back ever so slightly, as if to offer herself for another rub.
“I think I’ve got it,” I said as I pushed the box back onto the shelf.
We didn’t move for a second. I was still pressed against her. Her hand was still on my hip. I was certain she could feel my erection. “Oh my,” she sighed, “that was close.”
She turned, swiping her bottom across my turgid condition. I took one step back.

The Wife’s Story
Having been married to Jay for over a couple of decades now, I am perfectly aware of his wants and needs. By no stretch of imagination is my husband a sexual pervert. Let me just say that he has a practically insatiable libido and I don’t blame him for that. It does take all kinds of people to make this world.
From the time that we met and before we were engaged, I do admit that I saw glimpses and shades of this side of his life. He was perpetually horny and still is. Not that he ever tried to get it on straight away when we first met. He is too much of a gentleman for that kind of stuff.
He really loves me; I know that. He would never do anything to hurt me. In fact, we were both virgins when we got married and it took us over a week to consummate our marriage! (Inexperience, I guess)
As for his sexual preferences, the first thing that comes to mind is how much he likes French kissing. He spends long times kissing me and I too have started to love it. He particularly likes me to suck on his tongue and goes crazy when I let him lick the roof of my mouth and my teeth.
Then, there is this penchant for breasts. When we married and before the children came, I had perfect, firm pear shaped breasts; now, though they have enlarged by almost two sizes (I wear a 36C now), he never stops worshipping my breasts. He spends so much time kissing them, kneading them, teasing my nipples with his talented tongue and licking the flesh all over.
After our marriage and after we got it right, he continues to rub one nipple and suck the other when he makes love to me. Most of the times, we do it in a side-by-side position and he slips one arm around my shoulders to pinch and rub my left nipple while engorging himself on the right one.
Nowadays, more than actual intercourse, he gets me off by rubbing my clitoris, which is extremely sensitive. I reciprocate by giving him head and of recently; he has taken to sliding his prick between my breasts. (A fetish he picked up from one of his man-to-man discussions with my elder brother, who has a wife with very large breasts). Initially, I did not feel turned on by it. But as we progressed and we began by experimenting the various ways of getting his prick to glide between my breasts as also the oils we used for lubricants, I have begun to enjoy it. I admit that it now feels more erotic than having to have his prick in my pussy; for when he is engrossed in fucking my breasts, he invariably manages to play with my clit. And boy, my clit is super sensitive.
I had begun to suspect that he had a thing going with Maya when I had started to watch the two of them stealing glances at each other: the slow, seductive smiles that Maya gave him and the winks he gave her.
And so it was that I pretended to leave for school (having requested the day off) and crept into the basement by using my key to the outer door.
I watched them all right. The porno film turned me on as I had a clear view of it. Maya had huge breasts and I could understand Jay wanting to fuck them.
Truth to tell, I wanted to see them fucking! But all Jay had been interested in was fucking the maid’s monstrous tits.
I had almost walked in when they began to neck heavily but decided to bide my time. I wanted to see if Jay would fuck her eventually. But the film playing on the video concentrated more on breasts and I knew my husband: a quick fuck and then he would slide his prick in her cleavage.
If I had a camera, I would take a picture of the two of them when I walked into the living room. Stark naked, Maya, now having slipped onto the floor, knelt there while he still had his glorious prick clamped between her breasts and an awful amount of his semen splashing all over her flesh.
“Nita, I-I didn’t k-know,” he stammered, trying to pull his prick away from between her breasts.
For her part, Maya hid her face by pushing it into the sofa.
I was wearing my standard dress: the one I wore when I went to school. It was a pure white sari, the border pinned to the high-necked blouse. The blouse had a black lining and the border of the sari was conservatively draped over the chest.
“I heard her saying she wanted to experience two pricks at once,” I said in a flat voice.
To say he was astonished would be the understatement.
They did not say anything; so I decided to take the matter in my hands.
“Are you up to it?” I asked.
“Uh?” he was stunned.
“Can you raise a hard on again?”
Maya turned around, a look of complete amazement on her face.
By this time, she had pulled the sari she had been wearing and covered her body as best as she possibly could. Likewise, my husband had pulled the pajama and covered his wet prick with it.
“The two of you are covered with spunk,” I told them calmly. “And this dress I am wearing is not cut out for what I want to do. So get into the bedroom in the guest room and have a shower while I change into something comfortable.”
Jay leaped up from the sofa, a smile breaking across his face, as he understood the implications of what I was saying. He bent down and pulled the maid by her armpits.
“Come on baby, we are going to have some fun!” he said.
“While we are at it,” I told him sternly, “please continue calling her by the names you have been doing so far. As far as I am concerned, she’s your bitch, whore, slut or whatever else.”
“Come on, bitch, let’s get into the bathroom!” he said, now getting into the spirit of things.
“And n