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I had continued to correspond with several of the men who replied to my original Craigslist posting, for a variety of reasons. Many of them wanted to hear how things had gone, some tried to convince me that their load would be larger than anyone else’s, others wanted to know if I wanted to “try it again” with them, and so forth. Though I hadn’t given it much thought at the outset, the overwhelming majority of the guys who wrote to me were honestly nice guys – they weren’t the pervy, misogynistic fuckwits that I expected some of them to be. For the most part, they were all respectful of what I wanted to do, and were nice and polite when I told them I’d found someone else to do what I wanted done, and were genuinely curious as to what was motivating me.

One guy in particular stood out. I would come to find out that he was a member of a sex club in the city – the members would get together and participate in a variety of different sexual activities. It wasn’t the typical swinger’s club, per se, but more along the lines of a place where they could explore some of the kinkier sides of their sexual peccadilloes. We had carried on a long conversation thread about why I was doing this kind of stuff and talking about other sexual odds and ends.

During the course of our conversations, he’d inquired about my sexual proclivities, and when I let on that I had a strong desire to explore my submissive side, he tied that together with my fascination with facials and introduced me to the concept of the bukakke. Now, I’d heard the word and was familiar with what it meant – after all, as I said in my original story, I was pretty familiar with porn. It’s hard to do any serious exploration of that without coming across bukakke web sites and photos. Still, I hadn’t seriously entertained the thoughts of doing something like that up to this point. It seemed, however, to be the next logical step in my progressive fascination with facials.

Tom’s was an invitation-only club. You had to be recommended by someone who was already a member to even be considered, everyone had to be tested and disease free, and they had to swear allegiance to the club. This meant that they didn’t have sexual contact with anyone else outside the club, which, theoretically at least, precluded the risk of diseases entering the group. The idea was to allow them to have condom-free sex with each other with little risk of transmitting anything.

As Tom read through the tales of my facial exploits, he continued to tease me with the idea of participating in a bukakke session. Apparently, the women who were members of his club weren’t too keen on the idea of being cum repositories for multiple men, and some of the men had hoped my fascination with being a cum slut would carry over into allowing them to use me as a surrogate for that at one of their sex parties. He eventually put forth the idea of paying me to do it, so needless to say, my interest piqued at that point. My standard “fee” for using my face was $100 per person. Tom indicated that he wasn’t sure exactly how many guys would be at any given party, but we settled on a figure of $1,000 for me to be there and let them do what they wanted, short of penetration. Tom gave me the club’s web site link to review what they were about, and we set a date and time. I spent the next few days watching several bukakke videos so I’d have some idea of what I was in for.

When the time came, I nervously drove to the address Id been given. I had looked it up online, so I pretty much knew where I was going, and they’d had photos of the inside of the club on the website so I had had some comfort with the facility itself, but you never really know what you’re getting into until you’ve walked through the doors. I parked my car, spent a few minutes composing myself, got out and rang the door buzzer.

I was greeted by a gorgeous woman who appeared to be in her early 30s. She welcomed me and made a comment about the guys were going to love playing with someone as pretty as I was. I thanked her sheepishly and followed her back to a moderate sized room where a handful of people were milling around in various states of dress. Everyone stopped in their tracks when I walked through the door and stared at me, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. A man I recognized as Tom approached me, extended his hand and welcomed me to the club. He then introduced me to the rest of the folks who’d assembled for the evening’s festivities.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Caitlain. She’s our cum slut for the evening.” A collection of wows, ooh, and ahhs emanated from the group. My guess was that they weren’t used to having someone my age and looks available for their use in any capacity, let alone as a semen receptacle. Everyone exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and then Tom ushered me into the kitchen where he explained to me what he had in mind.

“Basically, I’m going to leave it up to you to decide how you want to let it play out. You can just sit on the floor; we can lay you down on a table or on the floor; or whatever you feel comfortable with. The girls are going to blow or fuck the guys until they’re ready to cum girne escort and they’ll move over to you and finish themselves off on your face. Pretty simple, really.”

“How many guys showed up?”

“Right now, there are 14 of them here. I expect another couple to show up shortly, though.”

“Cool. I noticed a kind of rack looking thing in the room. As I’ve explained, I am kind of on a submissive kick right now. Would it be okay if you tied me to that in some kind of position where my face is at cock level, maybe in a spread eagle kind of way so I can’t use my hands? “

“Oh, hell, yeah. That’ll make the guys even more excited than they are now I bet. You’re welcome to go out and grab a bite to eat and something to drink if you’d like.”

“Okay, what about the payment?”

“It’s right over here on the table. A thousand dollars in cash, just as you requested.”

“Cool. Thanks. Where should I put my stuff?” pointing to the bag of clean clothes I brought with me. I grabbed the envelope, as we headed out of the room. Tom walked me back to one of the bathrooms and told me to just put my stuff in there; it’d be perfectly safe. I dropped my bag and went out to the bar and grabbed some potato chips and dip and a diet coke. Several of the people walked up and talked with me, wanting to know how I ended up here and about how I got started with all of this. Several of them commented on the stories I’d written and how hot they were – Tom had shared them with the group so they’d know a little bit about what brought me to this point. I happened to catch a glance of a woman going down on a guy sitting on one of the large couches in the rear of the room, and almost as if that were a signal people started shedding clothing and cocks sprang to life.

Tom and another guy spread a sheet of plastic across the floor in the center of the room, put a blanket over it, and moved the rack over on top of the blanket. He then went over the rules with everyone so they’d know what they could or couldn’t do. “Basically, Caitlain is here for you to use as you see fit, but there’s to be no penetration, including the mouth. You can cum on her, slap her, spit on her, grab her hair, talk dirty to her – she’ll probably talk right back to you. But she’s not going to touch you in anyway. Are there any questions?” No one said anything, and he then reminded them of the safe word we’d agreed upon. Someone in the back of the room, whose cock was already in someone’s mouth, said something to the effect of “Let’s get busy.”

I took that as my cue and started disrobing. When I was done, out of nowhere, someone grabbed my hair. “Come here, slut.” I was dragged by my hair over to the rack I had referred to earlier, forced to my knees, and held in place while a couple of the women tied my wrists to the rack. When they were done, one of the women grabbed my chin, turned my head up and spit in my face without warning, hitting me in the space between my left eye and cheek. Though that had caught me off guard and I wasn’t terribly fazed by it, I could feel the heat well up in my face as I turned red from embarrassment.

I’d never actually had anyone spit on me before, even though I’d offered to let others do it when they were using me. My initial instinct was to return the favor, but I elected not to since I’d indicated in much of my conversation with Tom that it was part of my submissive fantasies to be treated like that. The agreement for tonight was that I’d be used in any way until such time as I used the safe word we’d agreed on. There were no limits placed on this, with the exception of penetration, as had been the case with my previous forays into facialdom.

I sat back and watched the scene that was unfolding before me. I had been in a room with one other couple having sex before, but to see two dozen people fucking was just surreal. It was like watching a live porn scene unfold. Women were blowing the guys, guys were eating pussy, and guys were fucking the women, all within a few feet of me. One woman had her back to a wall and her mouth was being railed by this one guy as if he were grudge fucking her cunt. I’m guessing she had no gag reflex?

All of this was taking place with the singular purpose of getting the guys ready to ejaculate on me. I was trying to decide if I was proud of this, but I knew I was infatuated with it, at least at this point. I felt like some kind of fertility goddess awaiting worship from my loyal subjects! The sounds were just as incredible as the visuals – hearing the slopping and sucking that takes place when someone is being face fucked was incredibly erotic to me, I found. I began to get wet in anticipation of what was to come.

Before long, two of the guys took their cocks out of the girls’ mouths and moved over towards me. “Fuck, yeah, cum on my face. Give it to me!” You could see the intensity build in these guy’s faces as their orgasms welled up inside them. The first guy’s spurts hit me square in the right eye. Fuck, that stung.

Almost immediately the guy on my other side blasted the left side of my face. “You like that, don’t you, you little gölcük escort whore?” I turned my face up so they could finish off and tried to keep my eyes out of the direct line of fire. One of them got off five strong shots, while the other one kind of fizzled after the first one. When they were done, it really didn’t feel any different than the other facials I’d had up to that point. Nice and warm to begin with, and then they got really cool, almost cold. My eye was burning like a mother fucker, though.

Very quickly thereafter, a third guy moved toward me. He grabbed my hair and turned my face up and continued jerking himself off right above my face. I truly wish they’d do a “point of view” camera shot of that in porn from time to time! The sight of that cock just a few inches from your face, knowing it is about to explode all over you is orgasm-inducing! Pretty soon, he started oozing cum out. I don’t know if he did it intentionally or not, but his cum came boiling out right into my eyes again, though I’d managed to close them this time before the man juice landed in them. I had taken the precaution of not wearing my contacts, knowing it was quite likely I’d be getting cum in my eyes on this trip, so I wasn’t overly concerned about that. He finished draining himself and spanked his cock on my face, splattering what was there, and then I heard him hock up a mouthful of saliva and spit it in my face. The impact caused me to jerk back and knock my head against the rack. “I’ve always wanted to do that to a bitch before.”

Before I had a chance to regain any understanding of what was going on, another squirt hit me in the mouth. I had my lips parted so I could breathe through them while the third guy was finishing up and the fourth guy’s cum shot almost right down my throat, causing me to choke a bit. I closed my mouth quickly as his second shot hit me in almost the exact same spot. I could now feel the cum dripping off my face onto my chest, and the coolness of it causes chill bumps to rise on my body; even my nipples were becoming more erect than they already had been.

I can only imagine what I must’ve looked like, sitting there with all of that cum on my face, glistening in the lights of the room. I’d watched those Bukakke videos in anticipation of this night, and I had masturbated to the thought of myself being used this way on several occasions. I wondered if the visual appearance I presented to these people was living up to what I had seen for myself in the pornos. I’d never know, though, since club rules didn’t permit any photos or videotaping of the things that took place there.

I could barely open my eyes, even though the semen had finally slid out of my eye cavities and drained down my cheeks. Four more guys were standing before me jerking their cocks. “Come on you fuckers; spray your seed on this slut’s face.” Almost before I got the words out, I felt a strong blast on my right cheek. It must’ve been a strong one, too, because the guy who unloaded on me let out a guttural moan that I hadn’t heard very often before. Clearly, he’d experienced a strong contraction, judging by the strength of the splatter – it felt like being squirted with a strong water gun. He and the three other guys unloaded a ton of cum on me, with one of them aiming for my boobs instead of my face.

You begin to lose yourself in the moment after a while with so much going on around you. And when you can’t see, the rest of your senses begin to take over to try to compensate. It was hard to breathe with my nasal openings clogged up with semen, and this was forcing me to leave my lips parted to breathe. This allowed the juices draining off my face to drip into my mouth. I tried blowing cum bubbles like I’d seen in the videos, though it was hard to gauge how successful I was given that I couldn’t see myself doing it. The quasi-chlorine smell of the semen was intense. That combined with the musky smell of sex and perspiration that permeated the air in the room at this point made for a primal, erotic mixture.

Your hearing also increases in sensitivity. Since I couldn’t see when someone was approaching me, I tried to listen to see if I could hear the guys walk up to me. What I found interesting was that I could hear people sucking and fucking in the room. The slurps and gags of the women sucking cocks, and the staccato slapping of skin of people who were actually fucking was interesting overlaid with the sounds of the guys in front of me jerking their cocks. I could distinctly hear two guys in front of me jerking themselves off; the sound of their hands sliding back and forth rapidly on their cocks reminded me of the last time I’d given a handjob.

One guy came up and asked me to beg him to cum on me. “Please cum on me, baby. I need you to cum on my face.” I could tell someone was with him, and a woman said something that led me to realize that she was doing the work for him. It sounded like she was alternating between sucking his cock and jerking him, and with my begging for his cum he finally reached the point of no return. She managed to aim his cock right over my forehead and he göztepe escort got off about four good shots. When he was done, he rubbed his cock all over my tits and cock-slapped them several times. I could tell by the splattering sounds that even my chest was coated with a decent layer of sex juices.

By this point I had lost count of the number of guys who’d actually ejaculated on me. A couple had shot their loads on my tits instead of my face, but the goo on my face was very thick. It was starting to dry on some of the edges, and your skin starts to feel kind of like a face peel has been applied to it. I could still feel the impact of every guy’s blasts, though, as more and more cum was deposited on my face and head, the warm liquid draining down my cheeks or worse yet my nose. Every time it’d run down the bridge of my nose and drip off the tip, it would tickle the shit out of it. With my hands tied, I couldn’t reach up to scratch it, so I’d wiggle my head back and forth to try to dislodge it. I also couldn’t reach down to masturbate myself. I was soaking wet and wasn’t wholly sure the pool of liquid at my crotch was just cum from the men. I tried to squeeze my legs together to make myself orgasm, but the position I was in didn’t allow me to do that very well. My name had become “slut,” “whore,” “cunt,” or “bitch,” depending on who you asked.

The feeling of being dominated and used purely as a fuck toy or a trash can for a roomful of guy’s spunk just does it for me I’d discovered. I wish I knew specifically why it did, but I don’t. Perhaps it is because I feel it is one of those ultimately submissive things. When people find out that I do this kind of stuff, they frequently ask if or why I don’t find it degrading. My answer is that I fail to see how providing someone else with sexual pleasure can remotely be degrading if it is mutually consensual. I have absolutely no problem allowing someone else to use me, my mind, or my body to get themselves off, within reason. Getting paid for it is a side benefit, of course, but I don’t feel any less of a human being because I’m letting people use me to achieve sexual pleasure for money.

“God, she looks like a slut. Look at all of that cum.” Someone laughed and wondered aloud what would make a girl want to do something like this. I thought that was odd, given the very nature of a sex club to begin with; I could easily have asked the same question about what they do. Of course, none of the female members apparently enjoyed being used this way, so perhaps it was unique here. That would explain why Tom was so grateful that my fantasy had taken shape in the manner it had, I suppose.

When the last guy had blown his load on me, a couple of people came up to me and starting scooping cum off my face. “Open your mouth, cunt.” I did as I was told, and they started shoveling cum from my face into my mouth. Warm cum is not the best tasting stuff in the world to begin with, and when it cools off it doesn’t get much better. I tried to swallow as much as I could, but I finally got to the point where it was just too much, so I locked my mouth shut. Someone slapped me across the cheek. “Fucking whore.” That stung. It sounded like that same woman who’d been spitting on me. What a fucking bitch.

Finally Tom chimed in. “Untie her and walk her back to the bathroom so she can clean up. You did an excellent job, Caitlain. Everyone give her a nice round of applause.” The room erupted in clapping and hollering. It made me feel good that I had provided them with a good time, but I was ready to get this shit out of my eyes.

A woman untied me, grabbed my hand and told me to follow her. When we got the bathroom, I expected her to leave me and close the door behind her, but she remained in the room. I moved over to the sink, grabbed a washcloth, and began cleaning the dried cum from around my eyes so I could see well enough to navigate around the room unaided. When I could see again, I found that my accompanist was the woman who’d spit in my face the first time. She had taken her clothes off. “Get in the shower. I’ll help clean you off.” I hesitated for a second as I looked in the mirror to admire the semen splattered face that I saw. I looked like a glazed donut. The whole upper half of my body was covered in a slimy, gooey mix of cum and saliva. I thought it looked quite….slutty.

Though I was startled at her demand and wasn’t sure how to expect, I did as the lady asked. She turned the water on to allow it to warm up as I walked over to the huge, glass-enclosed stall. As soon as I stepped in she grabbed a handful of my hair and ordered me onto my knees. I kneeled down outside the water stream and she moved to a position in front of me so that her pussy was right at my face level. I was waiting for the command to eat her pussy, but instead was met with a stream of hot piss from her cunt. She was pissing on my face, holding my head in place by my hair. “Let me help you wash all of that jizz from your face, sweety. I’ve been holding this just for you.” With that she began moving her hips so her urine stream was washing over my face. When she was through, she pulled me up by my hair, looked me in the face, and spit on me again. “When you’re ready to explore your submissive side with another woman, give me a call.” She left me there dazed as to what had just happened – that was not a part of the plan I’d worked out with Tom, so I was a bit taken aback by her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I have told you all about Eric, the first older guy I had a relationship with.

I also mentioned how on occasions he would like me to dress up and let his friends fondle me and I also fucked and sucked a few of them off.

After Eric and I went our separate ways, him moving away. I really had a lot more actual full sex partners, most of them whilst on holidays, as I will add about my experiences in Turkey etc.

A few months after Eric moved away and after a holiday in Ibiza (during the fortnight I fucked another fifteen different guys).

I bumped into Alan, one of Eric’s old friends. He owned a book shop and I went one day to his store on the premise of getting a text book for my college course.

It was rare for him to be in as he had full time staff there, but on this day I literally bumped into him down one of the aisles.

He was one of Eric’s friends I had sucked off to completion a couple of times. We spoke briefly and he asked how I was and what I was up to etc.

I could sense a bit of a naughty angle to his questioning and admit I was feeling a bit fruity myself, not having a regular boyfriend at the time. I also admit to having always enjoyed his company in the past.

He offered to buy me a coffee at a local cafe nearby and I agreed, he also let me have the text book free of charge.

At the coffee store we again chatted about Eric and all sorts really. The subject of sex naturally came up and he asked if I was with anyone at the moment.

I replied to him, “No footloose and single Alan, why what are you thinking?”

He then asked me if I would be interested in helping him with a little party/poker night he had planned for the following weekend.

He had a ‘boys’ poker night planned for him and four of his friends (Colin, Gordon, Peter and Fred) I had met both Colin and Gordon before, at some of our fun times with Eric.

They were all in their 50s, except Fred who was according to Alan was the old man of the group.

He was just turned 60 and recently retired.

I asked what was planned and what he had in mind for me. stupidly adding I had never played poker and didn’t know the rules!

He told me he had planned, ” A night of poker, porn and frolics if you’re up for it Anna!”

He asked me if I would be the waitress/hostess for the night and if I would consider putting on some entertainment.

I said I would consider it, to be honest my fanny was getting the usual erdemli escort dripping sensation already.

I was told it would be made worth my while.

I informed Alan that my M.O.T was due on my car the next week and if that could be taken care of that for me then I would definitely make it a, good night for everyone.

I felt a bit cheap but thought, ‘fuck it, why not.’

I had broadened my horizons considerably over the last two holidays and was game for some cock.

The weekend came and I had contacted Alan to organise what he wanted me to wear etc.

I decided to go for a French Maids outfit,fitting for a hostess I thought, a very short one I had been bought by Eric.

I also plumped for a pair of my highest fuck me shoes and my black fishnet stockings and suspender belt.

I packed my bag and put in three of my favourite vibrators for good measure.

I arrived at about 7pm before the other guys were due to get there.

I changed into my outfit in plenty of time and my cunt was already getting moist at the thought of the fun I may have.

I felt deliciously sexy as I got ready for what I knew was going to be a night of real fucking and maybe another gang-bang style bit of fun and frolics.

The others arrived one by one and all seemed very, very pleased with what I was wearing, my arse was given a squeeze by them all one by one, as I let them in and served them drinks.

We had ordered a Chinese take away for us to have before the evening got started, and after a short wait it arrived.

I thought the delivery guys eyes were going to pop out as Alan let him in to pay for it.

I was wandering around in the living room, the only woman amongst these five older males and I was dressed as Colin put it ‘Like a French fucking tart.’

My three vibrators where standing all in a row, proudly on the fireplace mantle for all to see.

I made it obvious why I was there by sitting on Gordon’s lap, my maids outfit riding high up and showing my legs and cunt off. the delivery guy seeing it all as he entered the house to put the food on the table. I then got even more daring by planting a heavy kiss on his lips before doing the same to Peter, Colin and Fred as well.

The delivery guy must have thought I was an escort for the evening or something. It made my cunny really wet thinking about him having a stiffy and telling his workmates what he had seen.

I fatsa escort must have looked a complete whore.

After eating and getting some more drinks,we chatted and the guys got ready for to start playing poker at the dining table.

I paraded around, my arse cheeks visible due to the shortness of my maids dress, my stockinged thighs fully on show and my titties poking out of the top of the dress.

After a very short while I was watching a hardcore porn DVD on Alan’s television, an amateur style one with various couples/threesomes fucking and sucking.

Whilst the guys played a hand of their card game I was playing slowly with my pussy up my dress and had my see through knickers to the side. The older of the guys Fred was staring at me and saying.

“Fucking hell have you lot seen her!”

Alan quickly assured him, “Oh she’s a right dirty bitch once she gets going Fred. Come here Anna and show Fred your wet pussy.”

I stood up and swayed my way across to them and stood in front of them all pulling my panties to one side.

“Oh I’m fucking soaking already Alan,look at my fingers they are covered already.”

With this I showed them my glistening fingers and licked them clean.

Fred was gasping, “Christ what a fucking bitch! When you said you had a young cock loving bike coming Alan I never thought we would be this lucky!!”

This dirty talk was getting me off and I could tell Gordon and Peter where getting hard too. They kept touching their crotches and I was sure things where about to hot up.

I walked around the table and slowly eased my panties off down my legs and over my heels.

“I won’t be putting these on again tonight I think!” smiling to them as I said so.

I made my way to the fireplace and took my first vibrator off the top of it.

I sat in one of the armchairs and faced the dining area where the guys were. I started to slowly tease my clit with it and then to ease it up my soaking quim.

As I did so they had stopped playing and where all watching me.

“You fucking like it?” I asked speaking in as broad an accent as I can muster…”You dirty bastards like watching me pound my cunt?”

They all stared at me as I did so and this made me feel like real cheap tart.

“Fucking look at me,” I shouted. “Look at me you cunts, look at what I’m doing for you filth, dirty fuckers.You want to fuck me? You want to fucking spunk up me and cover finike escort me in your cum don’t you!”

Alan spoke first,” Will you let us Anna. Can we actually fuck you and not just get sucked off by you?”

I looked straight at them and replied.

“Oh yes too fucking right you are going to fuck me Alan. I’ve fucking had a load of cock since Eric left and I want all five of yours tonight All of you up me,in my cunt, my mouth and up my fucking arse.”

They all shot up from the table like young men!

As they neared me I got up and fully removed my Maids outfit,this left me in just my heels and stockings and suspenders.

I walked over to them and asked them to form a line.

They did so stripping naked hurriedly as they stood.

I got onto my hands and knees and crawled along them like a bitch on heat.

I stopped at the end of the line and Alan was there. I knelt up and slowly licked his cock. Licking his balls and then moving around behind him and licking his arse cheeks, he parted his legs so I could get my tongue up at his arsehole and gave it a lick and a rimming.

I did this for a few minutes and then came around to the front again and began to suck his by now rock solid cock. I slurped on it and used my tongue to lick it whilst I sucked on him.

I took him all the way in my mouth and gagged a little, causing some spit to run down his shaft. The other guys were staring at me, their cocks all standing proudly to attention.

I moved along the line to each one of them, again licking their cocks up and down the length of the shafts and also licking their arses and poking my tongue up their arse cracks.

They all responded by growing in my mouth and by taking it in turns to pass a running commentary on me…

“What a slut.”

“What a good cock sucker.”

“Fuck she’s a right bike, I bet her cunts sopping wet.”

I was in ecstasy, I was loving the dirty talk and also the fact of how I was turning these men on.

After a while I got up and said, “OK guys my turn now.”

With this I lay on the settee and spread my legs and asked them all to have a lick of me.

They did so in turns. One licking and nibbling my cunt and clit, whilst another sucked my tits.

At one point I had Colin between my legs licking and tonguing me out, Fred and Gordon sucking on a tit each, Alan French kissing me and I was wanking Peter off.

All the while the porn DVD was playing and we could hear the couples fucking and sucking,the experience was amazing,pure sex.

The evening continued all night and I will put the rest of it on for you all as soon as possible.

How I was double penetrated, how I had multiple cums and how I ended up a right sticky mess!

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Day three dawned muggy, with thunderous looking clouds dominating the horizon. As time went on, the weather only became more depressing, with a light but permanent drizzle adding a damp sheen to everything. As I peered out of the flap of our tent, it started raining harder, and a chilling wind whipped around my face and neck, causing me to retreat into the stuffy, but warm cocoon we were calling home. A few diehards were tramping through the rapidly forming mud in their wellies and mackintoshes, hair plastered to their brows, rivulets of water pouring from creases in their waterproofs.

I prod your form in the dim light, hissing for you to wake up. You do so, and blink at me sleepily, confused. I point out of the narrow opening, at the grey skies and encroaching mud. You respond with ‘so? Come back to bed, it’s early. The weather will improve later’.

Sighing, I crawl back into the sleeping bag with you, draping myself over your chest. I had hoped to actually watch some of the show today, as we had missed the previous two day’s worth, and it seemed a shame to attend a music festival and not see any music.

‘Well, if I have to come back to bed, we’re not sleeping’, I purr in your ear. Touching my tongue to the tip, I trace around the delicate contours and nip at the lobe, whilst snaking my hands down your body to your already hard cock. You wriggle playfully and nibble at my lower lip, before deepening the kiss, bringing your hands up to cup my face. Rolling me over, you grab my hands and hold them above my head, exclaiming a triumphant ‘gotcha!’ before lowering your head and blowing a raspberry on my stomach. I giggle and arch my back, bringing my breasts up close to your face. You take your cue and take one of my nipples in your mouth, sucking it gently. I let out a soft sigh and lay back, letting you minister to my needs.

You bring your hand up to my other breast, circling the bud with your thumb, squeezing the flesh between thumb and forefinger. Pushing my breasts together, you lick up the valley between them, and down to my navel, where you pause to grin up at me. I part my legs slightly, inviting you in, and the scent of my arousal pervades the air. You push my legs further apart and move down, letting your breath blow warm onto my skin, until I feel your tongue, probing between my inner lips. I twitch slightly, and moisture seeps out from inside me. You delve deeper, tasting my darkest recesses, swirling your tongue in and around me. Drawing back, you replace your tongue with your forefinger, and place your lips around my clit, pulling gently at the nub. I draw my breath sharply, and arch my back a little.

You start to move your finger in and out, slowly at first, but quickening your pace slightly as gaziemir escort you flick your tongue across my most sensitive of organs. My hips start to move of their own accord, begging you to move faster and harder, as my breath comes in ragged gasps. You oblige, pushing into me with more force, until my inner thighs are slick with my own juices, and my eyes start to roll back in my head. Suddenly you change tack, pinching my clit with your finger and thumb, and ram two fingers of your other hand deep inside me. My back arches as I scream, heedless of the thin material that is the only barrier between us and everyone else.

You carry on fingering me, your hand soaked in my juices, as my body trembles and my nails dig into the groundsheet, fists clenched. For what seems like forever, I’m paralysed with pleasure, unable to move even the slightest bit by myself. As my shaking begins to subside, you withdraw your fingers and move up to kiss my brow, smoothing my ruffled hair back.

At that moment, the flap of our tent is pushed aside, and Matt and Laura, the couple we met briefly yesterday, entered. In a somewhat compromising position, I struggled to sit up and cover myself a little, so as not to embarrass our guests. They seem unshakable, as Laura giggles and says ‘well, it seems we missed lunch then. How about dessert?’

Slightly taken aback, I stutter a little, and look to you for support, finding none in your equally shocked expression. Looking back at the couple we barely knew, a spark of arousal pinged somewhere deep in my stomach. The woman was very attractive, wearing a short skirt that emphasised her toned legs, and a t-shirt that hugged her slim torso. Greenish-blue eyes peeped out from under a dark brown fringe. Full lips curved in a generous smile. Straight white teeth, the sparkle of a tongue piercing. Matt was also attractive, cargo shorts and t-shirt showed a toned, but not too muscular, body. His eyes were dark brown, and his hair was a lighter brown, almost blonde in colour, short and messy in style. His eyebrow was pierced, and tattoos snaked down his arms. They made a gorgeous couple. And they were in our tent, making no attempt to hide their intentions.

Laura crawled over to me, and sat back on her haunches, a glint in her eye. The same glint that was in mine. Steeling myself, I leaned forward and kissed her, full on the lips. The first time I had properly kissed a woman, outside of drunken dares. It was different, her lips softer, no fuzz of hair on her upper lip. I enjoyed it, tentatively nibbling on her lower lip. She purred deep in her throat and reciprocated. Growing bolder, I placed a hand on her stomach, feeling my way under her top to touch the smooth skin. gelibolu escort I felt the tautness of her body, muscles hidden just under the skin tightening at my touch.

I part my lips a little, allowing my tongue to entwine itself with hers, dancing a secret dance known only to us. I move my hand further up, reaching the curve of the underside of her breast. The skin there is even softer, if that is possible, than the rest of her. I cup her breast, feeling the weight, so different to anything I’d experienced before. Then I slide my fingers up, around the edge, and onto her nipple, feeling it harden at my touch, noting a piercing. Laura moans, ever so softly, and my stomach jumps with arousal.

Breaking our kiss for a moment, I pull away to remove her t-shirt, eager to view those beautiful orbs. They are even more perfect than I felt, full and round, pinkish nipples in the dead centre of each. It is to one of those nipples that I attach my mouth, flicking it with the tip of my tongue, and pinching gently with my teeth. Laura purrs appreciatively, and settles on her back.

At this point, I remember you, and Matt. I look up, and the two of you are watching, holding your breath, entranced. An idea forming, I nod to both of you, eyes sparkling. In an instant, you’re both naked, your cocks painfully hard. I note that Matt has a slightly longer, but thinner, cock, and wonder how it feels. Disrobing Laura of her skirt and panties, I find that she is pleasantly shaven, a tiny triangle of hair remaining as decoration. My own pussy twitches at the sight of hers, and moisture starts to seep again. Parting her legs, I move between them and crouch, inhaling the sweet aroma of her. Stroking her thighs with my hands, I slowly lick her, all the way up and down. The taste is new to me, making me slightly giddy.

I feel a pair of hands on my hips, and my skin crackles with static electricity. The hands rove over my body, grasping my hanging breasts and squeezing them together. I look up at Laura, and see you kneeling beside her, feeding your cock into her mouth. Which means that the person behind me is Matt.

I let out an involuntary moan as I feel his cock enter me from behind, and you look over. Instead of jealousy, I see pure lust in your expression, as you watch me get fucked by another man, while another woman wraps her lips around your cock.

I duck my head back to Laura’s cunt, licking with more enthusiasm than before. I push my tongue inside her, swirling it in her liquidity. She moans around your cock, and I see that your hands are busy attending to her tits. Matt’s cock feels different to yours, it reaches further inside me, but has less girth. He pumps in and out of me slowly, gemlik escort so as not to jerk my head away from Laura’s pussy. I sway my hips, kneading Matt’s cock with my muscles. I hear him groan, and moments later, feel electricity course through me as he slaps my arse. I push back against him, willing him to fuck me harder, while lashing my tongue inside Laura’s cunt.

From my peripheral vision, I can see you nearing orgasm, knees starting to tremble. You take your cock out of Laura’s mouth, and start to pump it vigorously, hovering over her face.

Laura’s hips start to buck, signalling how close she was to an orgasm, so I redouble my efforts, pushing my index finger inside, up to the knuckle. Her eyes flick open and she shivers slightly as I twist and wiggle it inside her, while my tongue is flicking her clit. I remember what you did to me, so I purse my lips, and suck gently on her clit, while increasing the pace of my finger-fucking. This has the required effect, as she utters a short, piercing scream, and her eyes roll back in her head. Her pussy twitches around my finger, and her juices gush, coating my hand and face with tangy vanilla.

As her orgasm subsides, I get up from my elbows, so I can push myself harder into Matt’s cock. He starts fucking me in earnest, hard and deep. I feel myself beginning to slide into that semi coma that signals my orgasm, and my hips jerk in rhythm with his. Sensing my needs, he brings his hand down on my buttocks, delivering a stinging blow that makes me jerk backwards and cry out with a mixture of pleasure and pain. I beg him to do it again, more, harder, and he complies. A flurry of slaps hit me, knocking the breath out of me, so my scream is transformed into several short, sharp barks. My cunt contracts around Matt’s cock, causing him to groan and release several bursts of hot seed inside me, holding my hips to him.

Seeing me orgasm from a different angle finishes you off, and you spurt thick white cream over Laura’s neck and chest, moaning quietly. She cranes her neck to suck your last drops from you, before falling back and rubbing your cum into herself, giggling.

I finally gather enough strength to lift my head, and smile. Sweat glistens on my back, and mine and Matt’s juices seep out from between my legs. He removes his cock from me, releasing a small flood, and then we collapse in a satisfied heap, limbs entwined, pulses slowly returning to normal.

About fifteen minutes later, we stir. Trooping off to the river like a group of school kids, we wash each other tenderly, and return to the tent, where we swap numbers and promise to repeat the experience next year.

After loading our stuff into the car, double checking everything is ready for the journey home, and hugging Matt and Laura goodbye, we join the sluggish traffic on the M25. I turn to you and say ‘Okay, you’ve convinced me that festivals are okay. And anyway, we have to go back next year, they’ll be expecting us’. You turn to look at me, and we both grin.

Next year it is, then.

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I was counting the days. I had turned 18 10 days ago, and in 5 days, my girlfriend would also turn 18. After that we could legally engage in erotic activities together. Not to mention that in 8 days, we’d both graduate from high school.

“Guess who.”

Tina had snuck up behind me and covered my eyes.

“Very funny, dear.”

“You’re a stick-in-the-mud, Mark. I thought it was funny.”

“My mind was elsewhere, hon.” I wrapped my girlfriend in my arms and kissed her cheek.

“Apology accepted. I wish we could do more.”

We walked over to her apartment. Her mom, who had raised her solo since her dad left 15 years ago, greeted us. Tina’s mom was very protective of her daughter and very strict on rules – her favorite expression when Tina had hit her rebellious teen phase was “My house, my rules” – but I had long since earned her trust. Four years of dating Tina and being faithful to her will do that.

“Hi, Ms. Carlson.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Jill, Mark.”

“I know, it’s just that I was taught to be respectful to my elders…”

“Yeah, yeah. Tina calls me Jill, so should you.”

“I’ll try.”

[10 days later]

I was sitting with Tina in her living room, quietly holding her in my arms.

“I’m of age now, you know,” she chided me.

“Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. You’re beautiful and sweet and kind and I love you, but I don’t think I’m ready to be a father.”

“But Mark, I have needs! You don’t have to cum in me, but you can at least give me some orgasms. I broke my hymen with a sex toy two days ago, so that part is out of the way.”

“And you think I don’t have needs? I’m trying to be responsible. I just worry that once things get hot and heavy our hormones will take over and things will get out of control.”

Jill’s voice sounded from directly behind us.

“What you need is an older woman in bed with you two. One who had a hysterectomy when she developed the start of cancer down there five years ago. One who can safely take Mark’s cum in any of her openings while he pleasures you in other ways. One who hasn’t felt the touch of a man in so long she’s forgotten what it feels like and has needs that make both of yours look like a drop in the ocean.”

Tina understood right away.

“Mom! Are you trying to steal away my boyfriend?”

“Not efeler escort at all, sweetie. I just thought we should share him.”

“Get your own!”

“How? I’ve been working and taking care of you solo for 15 years. I don’t have time to find a man.”

“Great. Now you’re trying to guilt me into it. Like it’s my fault Dad left you.”

“No, that isn’t your fault. He’s just a jerk. But the consequences have been that I had to raise you completely solo.” Jill paused and gave her daughter The Look. “Don’t make me say it…”

“Mom!”

“My house, my rules.”

Tina let out a resigned sigh. I wrapped my arms more securely around her and gently kissed her neck, trying to calm her down.

“Mmmmmm,” Tina whispered. “That does feel nice.”

“I’ll always be yours,” I murmured back. “Even if you share me with Jill. I’m not going to abandon you for her.”

Tina raised her voice back to its normal level. “All right, Mom. You win. But you can’t touch him unless I’m also present.”

“Deal. Now get your butts into the master bedroom and strip.”

10 minutes later, the three of us had made pit stops and were naked on Jill’s large bed. I was lying in between mother and daughter.

“I’ll be your obedient little sex toy,” I informed them. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

Tina was looking at my 7 inches of half-hard man meat. “Obedient, yes. But you’re definitely not little.”

Jill rotated my head towards her, and I gave her a kiss. Then she rotated my head back towards Tina, and I gave Tina a kiss.

“Kiss your way towards her breasts.”

The snarky 18-year-old in me surfaced for a moment. “Yes, Mistress,” I said sarcastically.

Jill’s hand shot down to my balls and she started squeezing. Hard.

“Do. Not. Piss. Me. Off. You will wish you were dead.”

My voice resembled that of a mouse. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

She released her grip. “Better.”

I did as I was told, and started slowly kissing my way down Tina’s neck. Tina made appreciative sounds. I wrapped my arms around her and caressed her slim body, gently groping her petite rear as I kissed down through her cleavage. Her breasts were not large. Firm B-cups. I took one of Tina’s nipples in my mouth and suckled, then took her other nipple into my mouth and suckled. Tina’s soft elbistan escort moans let me know she liked it.

“Now do the same thing for me.”

I let go of Tina, pivoted my body, and wrapped my arms around Jill. She had a considerably thicker frame than her daughter. Not obese by any means, but wider. A considerably bigger chest, too – soft, pillowy DDs. And a plump, round rear.

I traced slow patterns with my tongue from Jill’s neck down to her upper chest. She shivered slightly as I found my way to her cleavage. She was able to wrap her breasts entirely around my face, something Tina couldn’t do. I suckled on each of Jill’s nipples as well before she released me.

“Gently warm us up with your hands.”

I put my right hand on Tina’s mound and my left hand on Jill’s mound. Using my index finger in both cases, I ran a finger along their slits. Both women were starting to juice up.

I found two clits by feel and very softly brushed them. Two gasps of pleasure was the result. Then I eased my finger inside Jill before doing the same on the other side for Tina. I worked a second finger into both women’s boxes and began slowly sliding them in and out. After both women responded positively, I began softly scissoring my fingers. Jill clamped her pussy down on my hand immediately. Tina took a moment longer. I kept working my fingers until both of them climaxed.

I popped both hands free, and licked first Jill’s, then Tina’s honey off my fingers. “Mmmmmmm, delicious.”

Jill grinned. “I think you’ll make a splendid boy toy. Now, Tina will sit on your face while I ride your cock.”

Tina lifted her body upwards and swung it around, lowering her dripping slit onto my tongue. I cleaned her juices off her skin, then slipped between her folds. Tina gasped as I began lapping up her flowing honey.

Jill shifted her body and slid her warm, wet box right down onto my pole. I shivered as she enveloped me. She gave me a couple of squeezes with her internal muscles before she began sliding up and down.

I sped my tongue’s motions within Tina as Jill bounced on me. The younger woman wrapped her legs around my face. I lifted my hands and lightly groped Tina’s pert, firm rear. She giggled and pressed her body downwards.

I felt Jill’s hands on my chest as she braced herself. She increased erciş escort the rapidity of her bounces. Her body was quivering as she sped her pace, riding me harder and faster.

Tina began moaning as I started making circles with my tongue to collect every drop of her sweetness. I intensified my efforts to pleasure her. She tightened the grip her legs had on my head. I worked a finger to her clit, and she let out a lusty scream and gushed over my face.

Jill bounced with greater intensity on me as I began unconsciously moving my hips to match her motions. She began trying to milk the sperm out of my balls with her pussy muscles. I let out a muffled gasp of pleasure as she worked me. Her body tensed. I thrust into her harder. Jill trembled as she climaxed, her pussy violently clamping around my cock.

When she was able to control her body again, Jill slid off me and gestured for Tina to do the same.

“Now that he’s made us both climax multiple times, he’s earned a reward.” Jill cupped my very full balls. “Feel these.”

Tina put her hand down to my sac. “They’re very heavy.”

“And full of cum. This is when we can get him to agree to anything if we promise to give him release.” Jill turned her eyes on me. “You can cum if you move in with us.”

She slowly stroked my cock. My balls were starting to ache.

“All right.” That wasn’t a particularly onerous demand.

“And you have to give us each orgasms at least five nights a week.”

“Deal.” My voice was strained.

“And whenever we want to, you have to let us fuck your ass with a strap-on to let you know your place.”

“Be gentle when you do so, please.”

“And when you and Tina eventually marry, you have to promise to love, honor and obey her for as long as you both shall live.”

“Fine! May I please cum now?”

“You may.” Jill directed Tina to caress my balls. While her daughter did that, Jill sped the motion of her hand on my throbbing cock. I let out a strangled gasp as the sperm shot up my shaft and erupted into the air. Jill had aimed me so that it fell back onto my chest and belly. She stroked me until every drop of cum was extracted from my balls.

I lay on the bed, completely spent. Jill and Tina licked my skin clean of my sperm. Then they lay against me, resting their heads on my shoulders.

“That was awesome,” Jill whispered. “Thank you, Mark.”

“I enjoyed myself a lot,” Tina murmured.

“I had a good time,” I grinned. “Thank you both.”

My stuff was moved into Jill’s house within a week. Officially, I share Tina’s room, but the three of us spend many evenings together on the master bed.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Once upon a time, a lawyer needed to travel deep into the heartland.

She had had some initial successes, but the Höll case had turned into a sprawling mess. The family’s countersuit had been filed in Sundown, seat of the county with the same name and two days by car from the nearest airport or train station.

The sun was already setting when she reached Crossing. Her red convertible had ably carried her through the stubbly corn fields and along the dusty roads, but she was running low on gas. She drove past the drab and squat buildings of the township, until she reached the gas station, equally small and equally sad.

The slack-jawed attendant wordlessly filled the tank and cleaned the wind-shield then hurried inside. She felt the cold wind on her skin and hurried in after him. ‘11.27’ said the mechanical readout atop the register. Inside her wallet she found a 10 $ note and a few coppery coins. She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Would you take a check? Card?”

With a grunt the man pointed at the sign on the wall behind him:

‘No Col–

No Checks

No Cards’

She exhaled. “I see. Is there a bank? Or something?”

“Post Office. They’ve got a counter.” His teeth were crooked and yellow.

“I see.” She glanced at the small golden watch on her wrist. “I don’t suppose they are still open?”

“Naw.”

“Listen,” she lifted up the bill, “I’m only about a dollar short. And… .”

“So?”

“I figured I’d – I’d swing back and – nevermind.” She handed him her passport instead. “A lien, then.”

He grumbled and leafed through the papers. “Victoria von Auric.” For a heartbeat, she glimpsed her photo. She did no longer wear glasses. And her black hair had been shorter then. Even her make-up had looked off, unfinished, back then. He studied the picture for a long time.

“Naw. I don’t trust all that at all. How am I to tell if it’s fake or only foreign?”

“I assure you… .”

He closed the passport. “No. Gimme me your keys.”

“You can not be serious.” She put away documentation and wallet. “There really is no reason to behave like this.”

“Keys or I’ll call the sheriff.”

“Do.” She smiled cooly. “I feel like the proper authorities can only be of help.”

He laughed. “My brother-in-law won’t be in a good mood neither, though.”

“Fuck.” Her smile disappeared. She tried to read his face, but found no indication of trickery. He seemed dangerously self-satisfied instead. Mocking even. She turned around and walked away.

“Were do you think you’re going?” he hurried after her.

“Getting my luggage.” Her voice was even, but the scowl of her pale face betrayed her growing anger. She did not turn around.

From the open trunk she tore the large, brown suitcase and set it, swaying, down by her feet. She could see the attendant’s smile. He was close and he had seen her struggle with the weight. She grabbed her briefcase and slammed shut the lid.

“Here.” She threw him the keys.

They jingled as he caught them. “Wasn’t that hard after all – eh?” He stuffed them into his pocket. “Listen,” his smile did not seem inviting, “where’ll you go? It’s dark – ain’t it?”

Victoria hoped he would not notice her shudder. “Is there a motel in town? Preferably on that’d accept a check?” She did not quite manage levity.

“Naw. There’s Al’s up in Grayling. They’re open all night. Three miles that-a-way.” He pointed westwards along the road.

“Thanks.” She walked away.

A pothole stopped the clickety-clack of her heels. She almost lost a shoe to the mud and almost dropped her load. Then she noticed the footfalls.

The man had followed her. And he was moving closer. She dropped her baggage with a thud. He moved closer. The lock on her suitcase had sprung open. White blouses and black lace panties spilt forth. And the man inched closer still.

“What do you want?” she asked. Her voice loud and trembling.

He took another step. Then stopped. “Figured I’d offer some hospitality. A bed an’ a bite to eat.” He took another step. “And I can be gentle.”

“No.” She carried a pocketknife in her inside pocket. A practical choice for any traveller; for to plot self-defence would be paranoid. Or so she had told herself. With luck, she would be able to open it in time. “No,” she said, louder this time.

He took yet another step. Victoria stumbled backwards. He followed. Matched her step for step.

“Stop!” Her hand rested on the knife.

“Suit yourself.” He took a final step towards her then finally stopped. She could feel his breath on her face. “Suit yourself.” He turned and slowly walked away.

Only when his steps had died away, did she exhale. She peered into the darkness, half expecting him to return from nothing. But he was gone. She collected her clothes and, with a curse on her lips, walked the forlorn road.

Blue moonlight guided her through the amber shallows of grain, until she saw the light. A flickering halo rose from the ground, from under a block of concrete buried deep in the fertile soil. demre escort

Victoria left the road and crossed the field. She walked down the slippery stairs and stopped at the threshold of the steel door, only slightly ajar. Inside there was a fire and electrical light besides, enough for her to read the signs: ‘US GOVT’ ‘PROJECT G—‘ ‘DO NOT ENTER’.

She did enter. Driven by curiosity and, she admitted, hounded by fear, she entered. The heavy door closed behind her.

A single weak bulb dangled from the drab, grey ceiling. Its weak light mingled with the dancing orange from the concrete fireplace in the middle of the large, subterranean hall.

Few shelves lined the wall, most were empty or contained nothing but empty glass bottles. At the back, in the penumbra, she could see the stark outline of steel-frame beds.

The smell of food reached her nostrils. Three open cans were cooking on the sooty grating, tossed over the open fire. Her stomach gurgled. She dropped her burdens where she stood.

On the shelf closest to the firepit she saw, among condiments and other tableware, a clean-looking, stainless steel spoon. “Hello? Anybody?” She called out, but received no answer. She grabbed the spoon and called out again. No answer.

She crossed the room. Spoon in hand she hovered over the flames, then she called out for the third time. Silence.

All three cans seemed to contain beans, though those in the first had boiled down into a thick, brown mush. The ones in the second were hard and chewy and tasteless besides. The contents of the third were edible.

She plundered pepper and sauce from the rack. And then, standing close to the warming fire, wolfed down the whole can.

She bent down, sated and satisfied, to place the empty tin on the floor. There she spied, low on a distant rack, a small stack of magazines. She whistled, bored, but happy about her discovery.

Victoria again crossed the room. The murky glow made her strain her eyes as she squatted down beside the shelving and checked out the first.

An old hunting periodical with entirely too many technical specifications of rifles. She quickly pushed it aside.

The second showed on its yellowed cover a naked woman on her knees and surrounded by male genitalia. She picked up the third.

Inside politics, hidebound and favoured by some of the older partners; under normal circumstances she would not have bothered. And as she read the old issue, she found the arguments spurious on their face and rendered laughable by the judgement of time. She did not bother with another article.

Tension crept down her spine and a ball of anticipation had formed in the pit of her stomach. She looked around, half expecting to see the missing inhabitants appear from nothing, and, finding no one, picked up the filthy mag. Driven by queer curiosity, she leafed for the editorial or any other writing, but only found candid pictures on the crusty pages.

She glanced across the empty room. She glanced back at the lascivious images and again into the silent shadows. She swallowed and looked around once more. Anticipation had coloured her cheeks and she could not deny the rising heat.

The pictures, dirty and demeaning, of a platinum-blonde starlet taken roughly inside some rural rest-stop were uncomfortably close, yet tantalizingly alien. Her fingers were trembling as she pushed aside her panties.

Her movements along the edges of her sex were slow and careful; unlike the rough thrusts the blonde suffered from her jackbooted other. Breathing faster and faster, she feverishly flipped the stiff pages and her fingers snaked closer, deeper to her core. Her mouth formed to a quiet O and her own wetness invited her between the lower lips, so gently parted.

A sudden noise, maybe imaginary, almost sent her sprawling. Hurriedly, she threw aside the magazine and jumped upright. With her heart yet racing, she again crossed the room. On the shelving she found three bottles filled with clear liquid. The alcohol would calm her nerves.

“Anybody here?”, she called out with the first bottle already in hand. The room was silent. She removed the cork with trembling fingers and drank. The foul taste made her cringe. She sputtered and spit out the thick and sickly spirit.

Disgusted, she went for the second bottle. The weak drink was not enough to wash away the acidic aftertaste. Nevertheless, she emptied the whole bottle of watery wine. With some trepidation, she tried the third.

She did not quite taste bourbon. The booze was too acrylic with a clear paint-thinner aftertaste. She drank deeply and walked, bottle in hand, across the room.

Though she could not hear anyone or anything, she did not return to the magazines. She was giddy, yet growing tired, and the alcohol surely dulled her raging thoughts. And in the twilight beds were waiting for her. Another sip.

She stopped by the first bed. Stains covered the sheer pillow. Toothpaste or saliva, she hoped. Emboldened by drink and by the tips of her fingers, she moved derince escort aside the blanket. White splotches covered the once-striped mattress and clustered around the middle. Victoria quickly moved on.

The second bed lacked pillows completely. Only a thin rug covered the layers of cardboard stacked atop the creaky frame. She moved on to the third.

Victoria could smell starch and soap and under the clean, off-white blanket she found a clean, off-white sheets. With a contented sigh, she pushed the blanket against the wall and sat down on her makeshift divan. The mattress was hard, but not too hard, and each slow sip lulled her closer to sleep.

Yawning, she rose and stripped. Shoes and socks, then the navy-blue blazer. She placed it carefully at the foot end of the bed and then undid the top buttons of her blouse. Sudden shivers crept down her spine. She peered into the dark corners of the room and noticed nothing. Victoria frowned. The room was quiet, but she could not shake the feeling of being watched. Still dressed in blouse and skirt she wrapped herself in the blanket.

Laying on her side, she did not dare close her eyes. Shadows were playing by the fireside and against the ebb and flow of her heartbeat she could sense the outside. Cicadas sang and larger animals yet might move in the distance. A howl.

But the heavy door was closed. Shut and secure. She held her breath and listened. Even the pheadrean chorus was silent, impossible to hear through door and walls. Sleep came softly and dreams did not disturb her.

Then hands, like paws, ripped away the covers. She slowly opened her eyes then quickly bolted backwards. Three men had surrounded her.

The largest held her blanket, the others knives. With her back pressed against the wall and outnumbered, Victoria tried a smile. “Hi.”

They stood, unflinching, like statues or scare-crows, dressed in their ill-fitting jeans overalls. She could read no emotion on their cold, leathery faces. A drop of sweat ran from her forehead and dropped to her chest.

“I called,” she lowered her head, “I’m sorry. I was being nosy.” She touched the mattress. “And I have been entirely too bold. It’s just … ,” she looked up, but they offered no answer. “I’ve had a bad night and – again I was being presumptuous – but I could not resist. Also I’ve got some money in my purse,” she pointed at her discarded luggage, “and I’d be happy to offer recompense.” Receiving no answer still, she picked up her blazer and shoes. They followed her across the room in silence.

The large one had left the bedding behind and accepted the bill with a growl.

“Anyways,” she eyed the door, “I oughta leave. It’s been – it’s been grand.”

“Wait,” the giant said.

Victoria, still barefoot, inched toward the door.

“Wait,” he motioned and the others put away their blades.

She had almost reached the door.

“Wait,” he made no move to stop her. “My brothers and I – we didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her briefcase, perched precariously atop the suitcase, swayed and toppled. “Fuck.” She scrambled to retrieve it, yet they kept their distance. “Okay,” she exhaled. “Okay.”

Hidden beneath the metal flooring was a large storage room. From there her hosts carried canned peaches and clear liquor. They kindled the fire and placed four rusty folding chairs around it.

Victoria had claimed the chair closest to the door. They ate their beans and she sipped whisky and watched. They did seem peaceful. Lacking in table manners and poorly dressed. Hard muscled and armed with steel, but not hostile. Victoria allowed herself a smile.

“Pass me that bottle, will ya?”

The large one took a large swig, then passed it on. “So, where’ ya from?” He made a show of patting down his overall, until he found his pocket knife in the front pocket. Victoria’s heart was beating faster.

He chose the tin-opener and cut into the peach can. Her breathing calmed.

“New York. For the last two years. Before that,” she was interrupted when he handed her sugar water and fruit.

With honeyed lips she continued her tale. They were eager to hear about the city. About sky-scrappers and subway cars. About all-night dances and cocktail lunches. In fact, she rarely saw the inside of the courtroom and did not care for most of her colleagues, one way or the other. For her rapt audience, however, tedious paperwork turned to international intrigue and mutual disinterest became charged rivalry. Her outline of the Höll case had them at the edge of their seats.

Victoria glanced at her watch. Half past three. She had been lonely, she realized, since she had finished her studies. Since she had left her home behind. And him.

Three pairs of hazel-brown eyes still clung to her lips. She had tried to be courteous and she had tried to draw them in. Her questions had been gentle, inviting even. She had not been probing. Yet, only the large one had answered and only in short sentences.

He had reaffirmed that they were brothers. He was the middle one didim escort and she thought she could now identify the oldest by the scar over his right eye. Everything else was vague: They did not like the locals or maybe had never even met them. They had lived inside the bunker for a long time, maybe forever. Nothing more, even their names remained occult. She might have asked another question, but decided to tell one more tale about Mr. Howe instead.

When she checked her watch again, she had told two more and another half hour had passed. “It’s late,” she said. The brothers looked at each other. They spoke to each other in a language she did not understand. Low and rumbling roars, almost thunder.

“We’ve only got the three beds,” he said, “and Urs,” he pointed at the eldest, “doesn’t wanna give up his.” He saw her grin. “Yeah,” his cheeks turned red. “Mine’s – I was busy. Much to do. And we didn’t expect company,” he trailed off.

She squirmed against the cloth backrest. “I do not want to impose. And I expected to sleep upright anyway.”

“Nonsense.” His voice was forceful.

Victoria looked down. “Not to be presumptuous, but if we could share a bed I would not mind.” She had no reason to be embarrassed, but she felt relief when the elder brother, when Urs, gave her a small nod.

The chairs scrapped across the metal floor then the large one turned out the light. Urs removed his boots in firelight and took the spot closest to the wall. Victoria nestled herself under, but sleep escaped her.

First she unhooked her bra, then squirmed free off her skirt. Even then, at the edge of sleep, she chafed against his mass and his rough clothing.

“Do you?” she had gently touched his side and he stared at her, eyes glinting in the dark. “Isn’t this uncomfortable for you as well?”

He did not answer for the longest time; long enough for her to doubt whether he had understood her at all. “Naked,” he grumbled, finally. “No, “he paused as if in thought. “Naked,” he finished.

“I don’t mind,” she heard herself say. It had been a long night. She felt strangely safe and the air seemed charged with a puzzling expectation. A development waiting to be revealed. One she could almost, but not quite, sense.

“Not look. Close – not look.”

She closed her eyes and heard the rustling of fabric. Clothing on skin followed by him moving himself away, further still and hugging the wall. She kept her eyes shut. Strange pictures, called forth by proximity or scent, played and chased at the theatre of her mind and became dreams.

Of course she had turned towards him. Always was she drawn to warmth and always, even when alone, was she called to share the dream. Why he had turned towards her, she could not guess. And even in dreams, she knew; knew she was far away from their lover’s nest. And yet, when she felt the warmth of his breath, she moved closer. He had never been this muscular, but that seemed just fine to her.

“Freak!” He screamed and jumped away. “Freak!”

Victoria startled awake. He had grabbed the blanket, but her sore body resisted cold and noise. Realization came slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. The cotton shirt covered his chest and arms, but she had not stopped there. “I didn’t,” she paused. She did. And she knew.

“Freak.”

“Come here.” Her voice was soft. “Sit.” She patted the spot beside her. He looked at her, then obeyed. “You’re not a freak,” she said and hoped that she had not judged the situation wrongly. He regarded her with tilted head. “And I am sorry,” she said and opened her arms.

He melted into her hug. All strength had left his massive form and she gently placed his head on her shoulder. Then the blanket began to slip. He jolted and covered himself, but she had already seen. Even in the twilight of the distant embers had she seen his diminutive erection.

“Freak,” he whispered. His cheeks were red and his voice was sad.

“Shh.” She too felt herself blush. Felt the heat. “It’s only human.” She was only to aware of her own human needs. “Do you,” she paused, “do you mind?” She placed her hand on the edge of the blanket.

He looked at her. Silent.

“Only human.” She moved lower. He gasped, but did not stop her. His body was warm and he moaned when she reached his cock.

“Freak,” he protested, but she silenced him with a kiss. With their tongues still commingled, she slid on his lap and ripped away the blanket.

“Here.” She clasped his hand into hers. His fingers were rough. Rough between hers and rough on her body. They gasped as they slid lower. He touched the inside of her thigh, but she pushed him further.

Their hands found her panties and her waiting sex. She felt her own wetness. Her need. She bucked against the fingers and pushed herself against his dick.

He gasped and bucked. She bit his lip. Moving faster and faster until his warmth spread between her legs. “Fuck.” She threw herself against his spasm, teased out all her need. “Fuck.”

“Loud,” he whispered, “brothers.”

“Fuck,” she whispered. His cum had stained her fingers. She must be burning. Mad. “Fuck. Do you think?” She could see the mischief in his eyes, she was sure. Her heart was racing and with her wild blood came wild ideas. Boys. Boys playing their boyish games. Dirty, boyish games. “Right?” she whispered. “You wouldn’t be jealous?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Marigold’s overactive imagination had gotten her into trouble again. She’d been romanticizing the forest, getting in touch with nature, and now she was lost. She knew she couldn’t be too far from the campsite she and her friends had chosen for the weekend, but she had no idea which direction to go. She’d been dreamily composing a poem in her head, something about the mystery of the woods, and some little spark in the back of her brain had suggested perhaps this was a magic forest, filled with fairies and talking animals. She knew it was ridiculous, of course, but she’d scampered ever deeper into the depths of the woods, caught up in her fantasy.

It was probably all to blame on all the fantasy books she read, she thought. Unicorns and dragons and talking cats, elves and fairies and lonely sorcerors who lived alone in the forest, it was all terribly fun to think about, but less fun now the sun was beginning to set and and there was a chill in the air. She called out, hoping someone would hear her – her friends, another camper, a forest ranger, anyone. She kept yelling until her throat began to feel hoarse. Still no one responded. She felt like she’d been walking for miles; how had she not reached the campsite or at least the end of the forest? If only she could find a park road, that would be something.

Marigold hugged herself, rubbing her arms in an effort to keep warm. It wasn’t too uncomfortable yet, but she knew the temperature up here would drop drastically once the sun set and night came. Maybe she could find some shelter, a cave or a hollow tree. At least she would have a warmer place to stay the night, and in the morning her friends were bound to come looking for her. Perhaps there would be a full search party, helicopters and a full crew of rangers, followed by reporters. They’d interview her and fill the air with her story, with how brave she’d been. ‘It was nothing,’ she’d say, ‘I knew I would be found eventually.’ She’d use the opportunity to create her greatest poem yet, post it on the internet and achieve fame. ‘What a brave girl,’ everyone would say, ‘to survive such an ordeal.’ Men would feel the overwhelming urge to protect her from another such mishap, she’d have them falling at her feet to be with her…

The crack of a branch snapping drew her from her fantasy. A squirrel went zipping by overhead, and Marigold shook her head. How silly she was being! She’d always hand a tendency to romanticize things, and look where that had gotten her. She told herself she would be quite content with being found, soon and unharmed, and never mind the tv reporters and the men. Well, perhaps just one man. A handsome park ranger, overcome by her beauty, sweeping her into his arms and covering her with a blanket, insisting she was too weak to walk, taking her to his home and nursing her back to health. He’d spoon-feed her broth, and one night they’d kiss…

“Stop it, Marigold!” she said out loud. She really needed to focus, no more letting her imagination run wild. It was getting darker by the minute, and if she didn’t find a place to shelter her from the cold, it was going to be a very long and miserable night. They’d find her poor frozen body, and the tragic story would be all over the news. ‘How sad,’ everyone would say. No, focus! She picked a direction at random and set off.

*

She’d been walking for forever. It was a magical forest, and once you entered, you were doomed to keep walking until you died of thirst, and then the forest trees sucked your body dry for nutrients… she was disrupted from her latest imagining by the realization that there was light up ahead. A light! She broke into a run and came upon a cabin. There was smoke coming from the chimney and her hands shook as she thought of the warmth. She was saved! She ran to the door and hammered her fists on it.

“Hello? Hello? Please, help me!” she cried. There was no response. She tried again, knocking louder. “Hello? Please, I’m lost and I need help.” Still no response. Maybe no one was home? Hands trembling, she reached for the door handle. It was unlocked, and she pushed her way in, thanking dörtyol escort her lucky stars. “Hello? I’m so sorry to intrude, but I’m lost, you see…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that the cabin was empty. It wasn’t terribly large, and was set up as one room only, so she was quite certain she was alone. She hurried to the wood stove in the corner, which was radiating waves of heat. Marigold had never felt anything so glorious.

Once she’d soaked up enough heat to feel human again, she began to look around at her surroundings. There were a few deer heads mounted on the wall, and a large gun rack on the wall opposite. She guessed it must be some kind of hunting cabin. There were three beds near the back of the cabin, completely open to the room and each other. Probably some sort of bachelor get-away pad, then. If it was a family they would probably have made some attempt at separation, for privacy. That was fine, as long as they were hospitable bachelors. She imagined them coming home from a day’s hunting, shocked and delighted to find a beautiful young woman in dire need of their help. They’d fuss over her, radio for help, insist she take a bed while they slept on the couch and waited for help…

Her growling stomach brought her back to reality. Surely such hospitable men wouldn’t begrudge her some food. She’d noticed a pot on the wood stove earlier, and when she opened the lid, she found a stew of sorts. A quick search of the ‘kitchen’ portion of the cabin revealed bowls and utensils, and she soon had a heart helping dished up, burning her tongue as she scarfed it down. It was delicious. Once she’d eaten her fill, unabashedly going back for seconds, she began to feel sleepy. Maybe she’d just lie down on the couch for a few minutes. She stretched out, trying to get comfortable, but it was hard and unyielding. With a sigh, Marigold sat up and eyeballed the beds across the room. Maybe she could just take a short nap on one, leaping up and pretending she hadn’t the instant someone arrived home. They looked warm and inviting.

She crossed the room and laid down on the bed nearest the fire, but quickly decided it was much too warm there, and moved to the bed furthest away. Before she could drift off, she began to feel chilled, and moved again, this time to the bed in the middle. It was the perfect compromise, and soon Marigold was fast asleep.

She was startled awake by voices. How long had she been sleeping?

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A gruff masculine voice was coming from the foot of the bed. Marigold sat up and her blood ran cold. A large man was standing there with a rifle pointed directly at her. Two other men flanked him, one on each side, and both had weapons drawn on her as well.

“I’m so sorry!” pleaded Marigold, adrenaline coursing through her. “I was lost, you see, and I meant no harm, I just needed to get in out of the cold.”

“Trespasser,” spat the man on the right. “You didn’t see the signs? ‘Trespassers will be shot on sight’?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice quavering. “I’ll leave now!” she swung her legs over to the side of the bed and made to stand up, but the barrel of the rifle in her chest forced her back down.

“It’s too late for that,” said the large man. “Say goodbye.” he cocked the gun and Marigold swallowed hard.

“Wait,” she sputtered. “I can make it up to you! Anything you want!” She noticed the smaller man on the left eyeing her chest, and she shakily began to undo the buttons on her blouse. “Look, see, we can work something out.” She smiled desperately, undoing the last buttons and pulling her shirt off behind her. The large man threw a glance at his companions, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask what they thought.

“Come on, Bruin, let’s have a little fun,” the man on the right spoke up. Bruin, the large man, turned to the smaller man on the left.

“Robert?” he asked.

“Hmm. Take off those pants and let’s see,” said Robert, addressing Marigold. She continued to force a smile, and stood up, unzipping her jeans and sliding them düziçi escort to the floor. “That’ll do.” Robert nodded to Bruin, and Bruin lowered the gun.

“Alright then. Who gets her first? Jacob?” He turned to the man on the right.

“Well as the oldest, Bruin, I’d say that’s your right,” Jacob nodded respectfully at Bruin. The men grinned at each other, and Marigold felt sick with fear. Still, better than the alternative. Death would be a lot harder to get over with than sex. Bruin set the gun on the next bed, and unzipped his pants, pulling out his flaccid cock.

“Better get it hard, honey. It would be a shame to have to stick my gun in that pretty little mouth of yours instead.” Marigold moistened her lips. She could do this, just do it without thinking about it and survive, that was the important thing. She sucked on the tip of his cock, trying to get it wet so she could ease it into her mouth. She worked her tongue around the shaft, feeling it grow hard, and slowly began to bob her head up and down it, taking it as deep as she could. Apparently not deep enough for Bruin, for he suddenly grabbed the back of her head and shoved his dick all the way down, Marigold’s face smashing into his stomach as she fought for breath around him.

She gagged and tried to push away for a moment before remembering the gun. Better to gag and struggle for breath than have no breath. Bruin began fucking her face, hard, Marigold drawing breath every time he pulled out far enough. She needed him to be pleased, or she would die. Cautiously she reached a hand up and began to cup his balls, gently kneading and rolling them. Bruin grunted with pleasure and she knew to keep going. She felt the bed behind her shaking and then hands on her waist.

“No reason to let this hole go to waste!” Jacob pulled her panties down in one quick movement. She could hear him taking his pants off and braced herself for impact, still stimulating Bruin’s scrotum while she gagged on his cock. Jacob’s fingers were rubbing her pussy, then quickly were replaced by something much larger. His cock, hard and large, was roughly shoved up inside her. Her pussy wasn’t nearly wet enough, and she tried not to make a sound about the discomfort. It wasn’t awful, but she wished she wasn’t so dry. Maybe if she could try to turn herself on it wouldn’t be so bad. Balancing carefully on her knees, she slipped her free hand down onto her clit, quickly rubbing up and down to stimulate her juices.

“Look at this little slut,” cried Jacob. “She’s trying to get herself off. She loves this!” He pounded into her pussy harder, and Marigold rubbed herself quicker. Bruin was grunting and groaning with every breath, and Marigold tried to stick out her tongue and allow him even deeper access to her throat. The sooner he finished, the better. The added depth put Bruin over the edge, and he slammed into her throat, his cum squirting down the back. Hastily Marigold swallowed it down. She’d never like swallowing, but she wanted him to be pleased. His movements were strong enough that she dropped both hands to the bed to balance herself. Bruin withdrew his cock and Marigold gulped in air greedily, her unencumbered breathing providing her with relief. Jacob was still fucking her pussy, and she wondered if Robert would replace Bruin in her mouth. ‘One down, two to go,’ she thought.

“You should try her mouth,” said Bruin, sitting on the bed across from Marigold and watching Jacob fuck her. Marigold hoped he was talking to Robert and not Jacob. She’d finally gotten herself wet enough that the sex wasn’t uncomfortable, and at least she could breathe with Jacob fucking her pussy. She’d much rather get them off that way than gag down two more cumshots. She was on birth control, anyway.

“I think I will,” said Jacob, pulling out of her pussy. Inwardly Marigold sighed. Still, better cum in her mouth than a bullet in her head. She smiled and at Jacob and opened her mouth for him. Hopefully Robert would take advantage of her empty pussy rather than wait his turn for her mouth. To her relief, she felt him climb edremit escort onto the bed and his fingers sliding into her pussy.

“She’s so wet!” he exclaimed, his fingers squishing into her. Jacob’s dick was in her mouth and she tasted herself on him, slightly salty. Unlike his brother, he seemed to favor speed over deep throating, and he was thrusting in and our of her mouth like a jackhammer. All Marigold had to do was hold her head still and her mouth open for him. Robert meanwhile was swirling the head of his cock around the entrance of her pussy, and she actually found herself eager for him to stick it in. Well, at least she was getting something out of this.

“I bet this little bitch wants it up the ass,” said Robert. Marigold’s heart skipped a beat. She’d never done anal before, and she didn’t want to. Unfortunately in this situation, she didn’t really see an alternative. Reluctantly, she wiggled her ass at Robert, inviting him to take it. She braced herself, knowing it was going to hurt. Robert ran his cock up and down her slit, lubing it up, and she was thankful she’d at least gotten herself wet. If the dry pussy fucking had been uncomfortable, the dry ass fucking would have been much worse. Jacob continued to pump in and out of her mouth while Bruin looked on and Robert leaned down and spat on her asshole. He worked a finger inside it, and Marigold tried not to pay attention, focusing instead on getting Jacob off. Maybe if she got him off quickly enough, Robert would take her mouth instead.

It was too late, Robert’s cock was already at her rear entrance, pressing slowly but firmly. She tried to relax herself, aware it would only hurt more if she tensed up. T he head of his cock slipped past her sphincter, and she winced at the pain, but didn’t dare to make a sound. He was sliding the rest of it, inch by inch, and then his balls were pressed against her pussy, his cock lodged deep in her ass. She was thankful that Robert seemed to have a smaller cock than his brothers. He started to fuck her ass, groaning his pleasure.

“It’s so goddamn tight!” he exclaimed, and the description seemed to put Jacob over the edge, for he was suddenly spurting into Marigold’s mouth, grunting obscenities as he came. Again Marigold swallowed, trying not to gag. Robert was fucking her harder now, and although there was some pleasure in the strange, full feeling, it still hurt. Jacob joined his brother on the bed and they both watched Robert as he pumped in and out of her asshole. Gritting her teeth, Marigold slipped her hand back between her legs, working her clit again. Maybe she could distract herself from the painful part.

“Look how much this bitch loves it,” laughed Bruin. She closed her eyes and focused on the stimulation. Her ass wasn’t feeling quite as tender now; in fact, with the added clitoral stimulation, it almost felt good. She kept stroking herself, while Robert kept fucking her. Her breathing grew heavier and she began to thrust her hips back at Robert, enjoying the feeling. She was getting close to cumming, something she’d never thought possible with a dick in her ass. Jacob and Bruin watched her, and despite her embarrassment over her actions, she continued. In a minute, she was on the verge.

Robert was close too, she could tell, his thrusts were wilder, his balls slamming against her pussy every time he drove himself back into her ass. Her fingers worked tirelessly, and as she felt Robert grunt and his cock spurt inside her, she cried out and came, hard. She collapsed to the bed, her ass still in the air with his cock buried inside.

“Whew,” said Robert, withdrawing. “What a little slut.” He gave her a playful spank on the ass, and climbed off the bed. Marigold fell to her side, exhausted and trembling from her orgasm.

“Alright, let’s get this bitch out of here,” said Bruin, standing. Marigold was dragged to her feet and a bag placed over her head.

“So you won’t be finding your way back again,” hissed one of them, and then she was being pulled through the cabin, stumbling…

*

Marigold sat upright in the middle bed. It was just a dream! She patted herself down. Yes, clothes still intact, cabin empty, and no feelings of violation in her bottom half. Her crazy imagination was active even while she slept! She sighed with relief and started to lie down again, when the cabin door opened and three men walked in…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter Twenty – Keeping It Real

What would they talk about? Aidan was dragging his feet a little as he walked from the car to the door. He knocked and waited patiently. In the silence of the evening, he could almost hear his heart beating fast. Nervously, he wiped his palms and smoothed down his suit in the process. He had a mind to turn on his heels and run away, no matter how childish that would look.

Heathcliff opened the door, terminating his internal debate. Aidan had troubles looking up.

“Come in,” Heathcliff said gently and made room for him to walk inside.

He still didn’t look at his host as he passed by him. Heathcliff didn’t make a move to grab him and kiss him the soonest the door was closed like on previous occasions. Instead, he was silent.

They were both silent, and Aidan could feel the quiet resting heavy on his shoulders. He needed to break it.

“I brought the, um, list. Feel free to look over it. This one comes straight from our research lab, as per protocol requirements. I think you will find there everything you need, but, of course, if you have any questions, or you need any assistance, I am available.”

He walked to the nearby table and placed his briefcase on it, to take out the paper and put it carefully on the shiny surface. Heathcliff was still not saying anything, and it was unnerving to be the only one babbling.

“I will look over it. But we have more pressing matters to discuss, about you and me,” Heathcliff eventually said.

Aidan didn’t reply. Instead, he fiddled with the list of ingredients, trying to make it sit flat, and smoothing down a turned corner. What would Heathcliff say next? That he considered their deal a mistake? Would he tease him again and have fun at his expense? Heathcliff wasn’t this cruel, at least not on purpose. Although he had known him for only a few weeks, Aidan was not so biased to hold anything against him that wasn’t true.

“First of all, I apologize.”

Aidan’s ears twitched. Had he heard right? “What for?” he managed to say with some difficulty.

“For teasing you. I see how that isn’t fair. Will you please forgive me?”

Heathcliff’s voice was even, slightly calculated, but seemed profoundly sincere.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I … well, I believe I exaggerated.”

“All right. I have a mind to tell you that maybe your reaction was warranted given the situation, but I won’t pretend that I know that better than you.”

Aidan turned to look at Heathcliff. “Where is Heathcliff Stone? Are you perhaps a doppelganger?”

Heathcliff began laughing. “Now who’s teasing who?”

Aidan smiled. He felt awkward enough without Heathcliff getting all serious. In a way, Heathcliff had never dealt with someone like Aidan, inexperienced, never having been in a relationship, and all that jazz. But the thought that he could be the one to make the famous influencer all serious and maybe a bit nervous seemed ludicrous. It was up to him to diffuse the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out. Just that … Can I just ask for one thing?”

“Sure,” Heathcliff replied.

There was plenty of distance between them, but Aidan could sense Heathcliff’s presence, filling the room, like it was all around. It didn’t feel overpowering, but reassuring and comfortable in a way.

“Let’s just keep it real. We have a deal, right? I mean, we’re both getting what we want without any of these … complications. I know you’re a natural teaser, and it’s not fair of me to tell you this, but could you please stop teasing me?”

“Done,” was the curt reply.

“Um, okay,” Aidan said.

Why did he feel disappointed? Wasn’t it what he wanted, for Heathcliff to stop telling him he liked him without meaning it? Maybe he wanted Heathcliff to tell him he liked him while meaning it. But that was not possible. So he needed to settle for this.

“But I want something in return,” Heathcliff said.

“Of course.”

“I want you to tell me what you would like to get from this deal of ours. So far, it has been only about me and what I wanted. I want to hear you speak up.”

Aidan blushed. “Um, I’m not sure -“

“Are you comfortable sleeping here most nights? Do you want your weekends to be free of me? Are there things we did that you’re not comfortable with? Should I stop calling you bunny boy?”

“No!” Aidan almost slapped one hand over his mouth. “I mean, I have nothing against you calling me whatever you want.”

“Even if it’s Sparky?” Heathcliff wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Aidan rolled his eyes. “Maybe we could do without Sparky. The other things, I guess they’re fine, too.”

“You guess?” Heathcliff looked him right in the eyes. “You should be sure.”

Heathcliff was only fair, but it was hard for Aidan to go ahead and admit what he wanted. For as long as Heathcliff had been the one to push the boundaries between them, he had been so busy trying to build fortifications made of sand that he had forgotten what his heart truly cumra escort wanted.

His heart just had to suck it up, but that didn’t make Aidan feel like less of a fraud. He was like a burglar sneaking inside a house, riding the fridge, stealing the valuables, and ready to bolt at the first sign of a key twisting in the door. An honest person would have admitted to his feelings. Aidan was afraid to do that. As much as nice a person Heathcliff seemed to be, being told by some inexperienced guy that he was his crush could not make him too happy. Or worse, it could make him feel entitled to Aidan’s feelings without returning anything more than a bit of teasing.

He looked ahead with confidence he didn’t actually have. “I am sure. I enjoy spending time with you, Stone. There are worse ways to spend my time, I guess.”

Now he behaved like an entitled brat. Were he Heathcliff, he would send himself packing that very moment. Yet, nothing of the kind happened. He risked one straight look at his host, and his heart beat faster.

It wasn’t only that Heathcliff was handsome. That was a given, and Aidan knew that. What he didn’t realize was that Heathcliff could smile like that. It wasn’t a smirk or a satisfied grin. It was … He had no idea how to describe it. It made him feel like he was the only one for Heathcliff, that very moment. There wasn’t one ounce of teasing in that smile. Only fondness, with a dash of melancholy. It suited him, and it was not the first time that Aidan thought Heathcliff deserved his very romantic monicker, given by his mom.

It was intense, too, even in its endearing undertones, and Aidan had to keep himself from walking over to him and wrap his arms around him.

Damn. The thing he feared most had happened anyway. He was falling, and maybe he hadn’t yet hit rock bottom, but if things went like that, that would happen sooner rather than later.

But maybe it wasn’t so bad, Aidan thought, as they continued to look at each other, without feeling for a moment that the silence between them was awkward or anything like that. He deserved a first love, after all, and, while maybe it wouldn’t be heroic like in some tragic love story, it would definitely be hopeless.

“Would you like something to eat?” Heathcliff was the first to speak.

What could he complain about? They would just keep it real. And the fact that Aidan was secretly crushing on his bed partner of convenience would be well kept under wraps. In the meantime, he could just as well enjoy himself.

“What’s cooking?” he said playfully.

“Come with me, and you will see.” Heathcliff offered his hand, and Aidan hurried to take it. “Then we’ll sleep. I believe I tortured you enough.”

Aidan wanted to protest, but he felt a bit drained. Maybe playing around with your crush was meant to be exhausting.

***

Heathcliff had a mind to congratulate himself for keeping from shouting from the top of his lungs how cute Aidan was and tell him again how much he liked him. But the series of trials was just starting. Even if Michael had told him he could have fun with his bunny boy in the bedroom, he believed it a sign of good faith only to keep his hands and other wandering parts of his anatomy away from Aidan’s delicious rump. At least, for the time being. Bunny boy had to come and tell him directly what he wanted. If that meant waiting for who knew how long, he felt brave enough to do so without complaining.

“Heath,” Aidan called hesitantly, “are we just going to sleep?”

“Yes,” he replied promptly.

“All right. Just checking.”

Aidan could not hide the disappointment in his voice at all, and that was more than satisfying. Bunny boy needed to show that he wanted to be with him, too. That meant he needed to voice his desires, loud and clear.

With that decision in mind, Heathcliff leaned over and kissed Aidan quickly on the cheek. “Good night, Aidan,” he said softly.

“Good night,” Aidan replied and sighed right away.

Heathcliff pretended not to notice. Aidan had the ball in his court. Now he needed to learn how to play without a coach since that was his decision.

He was almost asleep when a timid hand came to rest on top of his. Good thing Aidan could not see him smiling. Maybe that was the rule to apply with shy pets. A good owner knew to let them get accustomed to the environment and their master in due course.

It would be painful to sleep in the same bed with that handsome young man. But Heathcliff had always been ambitious. If that were what had to be done, he would embrace it without protests or delays.

***

Heathcliff woke up without the clock as he never had problems with oversleeping. He would follow the routine of preparing breakfast after his focusing exercises for the day and then wake up Aidan, too.

That sounded like a plan, but Aidan was wrapped entirely around him, one arm and one leg thrown over him, in a very possessive gesture. He wanted to laugh so hard, but he would dalaman escort wake up the sleeping beauty in his bed if he were to do that.

Aidan’s head rested on his shoulder, and Heathcliff turned very slowly, trying to get a good look at him. What could he have seen in guys like the Matts and Hans of the world? Aidan was really beautiful, and somehow Heathcliff was thankful that others hadn’t noticed the same thing. Of course, advertising experts would have said that Aidan’s face was a bit too soft to be manly, that his eyes weren’t piercing or magnetic, and the average boy next door look never really sold anything.

But Heathcliff found that look perfect. Aidan would grow into a manlier version of himself, as his body was strong and his muscles were harmonious. For now, he was a cute bunny, and Heathcliff wanted nothing more than to watch him grow. He had a feeling he would love all the different versions of his sweet bunny boy.

Now, though, there was the pressing matter of leaving the bed without waking Aidan up. He first took one hand gently and pushed it away, placing it carefully by Aidan’s side. The leg was more difficult, and, when he touched it, Aidan just wrapped it tightly around his, and threw his arm over his chest again.

Heathcliff chuckled, but the laughter died the moment Aidan pushed his knee higher and began rubbing it against his crotch.

Well, that wasn’t planned. Heathcliff needed to be proactive. Aidan murmured something in his sleep and moved his hand, too, finding quick purchase in Heathcliff’s naked pec. Maybe sleeping in just a pair of shorts hadn’t been that great an idea. Aidan began squeezing Heathcliff’s chest and sighed happily.

Had it been anyone else, Heathcliff would have suspected some foul play. But this was Aidan, even more innocent in his sleep than when awake, seeing how much he wanted to project the image of a perfect yuppie that wasn’t fazed by anything.

He was a simple man, after all. Between the knee pushing against his crotch and the hand giving his pec a sensuous slow massage, his cock was getting hard. So he tried to move on one side, taking Aidan’s hand from his pec with as much gentleness as he could manage.

The moment he turned toward his bed partner, Aidan’s head rested against his chest. Heathcliff caressed the soft chestnut hair slowly, and Aidan made a small sound of contentment.

He was about to call for bunny boy and wake him up when he felt bold lips latching against one of his nipples. Heathcliff sighed. And he had wanted so much to behave.

***

Pleasant dreams were not that common, and he could not remember dreaming too often. This one was particularly nice, no, actually, pretty awesome, as he had Heathcliff entirely at his disposal, and the man was encouraging him to do as he pleased.

Aidan didn’t know he had a particular obsession with male nipples, but he wanted to taste Heathcliff so much. Seeing how the dream version of the fitness guru was not the usual domineering character from real life, Aidan thought it better to indulge as much as he could.

“Aidan, wake up,” a stern voice called for him.

After several seconds of utter confusion, he eventually opened his eyes. He blinked and gasped, seeing Heathcliff hovering over him, with a serious expression etched on his face.

“Oh, is it late?” Aidan shook his head, trying to get rid of that naughty dream from earlier.

Heathcliff had one leg between his and was pressing against his semi. Aidan had to rethink that. It wasn’t a semi, it was a full-blown erection, and Heathcliff rubbing it like that only made the situation more difficult for him.

“Were you dreaming something?” Heathcliff eyed him suspiciously.

“Earth to Stone, am I late for work?” Aidan protested, then blushed and quickly looked away.

The only way to deal with that man was to pretend he wasn’t disturbed by anything, including a muscular thigh torturing his aching cock.

“No, that you’re not.” From Heathcliff’s voice, Aidan could tell he was amused. “But I must ask: have you been weaned recently or you were just dreaming of sucking my tits?”

Aidan was sure his face was going through various shades of purple that very instant. “Are you pulling my leg, Stone?”

“C’mon, bunny boy, it’s a simple question. What were you dreaming about?”

“I wasn’t dreaming of anything! I mean, how many people recall what they dream? Not too many.”

“Well, let me fill in the gaps,” Heathcliff said and moved his thigh against Aidan’s cock again, making him grunt. “I was trying to wake up, see about my business, and a certain cute pet was all over me.”

Aidan was now pretty horrified with his lack of self-control. Heathcliff could lie, but while that was possible, it wasn’t also probable. He had thought his dream was a bit too vivid. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t ‘sorry’ me, bunny boy,” Heathcliff said slowly, his voice snakelike and hypnotizing. “I wanted so much to be good, datça escort and let you sleep while I went to make breakfast, and there you were, a knee in my balls, one hand over one tit, and your mouth on the other, sucking on it like you were expecting it to give milk.”

“Oh, fuck,” Aidan closed his eyes. “Could you just go about your business and let me here to drown in my own shame?”

“No can do, cutie.” Heathcliff laughed. “You teased the hell out of me, and now you’re going to assume responsibility.”

Aidan opened one eye. “What do you have in mind?”

“I have something for you to suck that will not let your efforts go to waste.”

Aidan gulped. “Do you want me to suck your cock?”

“Of course I do. Let me rephrase that. You’re not leaving the bed until you do.”

“Okay,” Aidan replied with more enthusiasm than he wanted to show.

Heathcliff was quick to move and straddle his chest. His cock pulled free from his shorts, he used it now to tap a playful rhythm against his lips. Aidan put his tongue out and began licking the head to the best of his abilities.

He liked Heathcliff’s taste, and he had just teased the guy before when talking about acquired tastes and whatnot. Now he could use this opportunity to taste to his heart’s content.

Heathcliff adjusted his position so that he could pump his cock inside Aidan’s mouth in a slow rhythm. Aidan enjoyed this a lot, especially since he could sneak his hands under Heathcliff’s shorts and play with his muscular ass.

Fleetingly, he wondered what Heathcliff would do if he found Aidan one morning trying to hump him dry. Would he offer his ass then? People could dream, Aidan concluded and put his energy and enthusiasm into sucking the delicious cock in his mouth like it was the tastiest lollipop he’d ever tried.

Heathcliff was moving his hips slowly, and Aidan could tell that he was trying to avoid pushing too much. Aidan felt a bit disappointed in himself for not being able to swallow the hard cock deeper. So he used his tongue to lick everywhere and hopefully enhance the sensations for the other.

At the same time, he could feel his cock aching from too much mental stimulation. Nothing and no one was touching it right now, and he could not reach it anyway. For now, he needed to focus on the other’s pleasure, as hard as that was.

He squeezed Heathcliff’s ass cheeks, imposing the rhythm he felt comfortable with. It looked like Heathcliff wasn’t bothered with being handled. Maybe Heathcliff was using him to get off, but Aidan knew that it was a fantasy come true to suck off the man that he had been crushing on for a while now. Preferably, he would do it in all possible positions, and this one was great since he could play with Heathcliff’s ass.

Could he dare? He didn’t have enough leverage from his position to be too daring, so he settled for moving his hands lower and touch Heathcliff’s taint with his fingertips. A small grunt from above told him he was doing the right thing.

Heathcliff was as sensitive there as he was, and that thought was making him happy. At some point, he would ask Heathcliff to let him touch more. For now, he hoped he would get off Heathcliff, and maybe he would get a handjob in return.

“You’re so good, Aidan,” Heathcliff praised him.

Aidan moved his hands, still partially busy with teasing the taint, but one eventually reached Heathcliff’s balls and wrapped around their base, pulling backward. Heathcliff’s breathing grew quicker, and his hips moved a bit erratically. Aidan released the tight balls in his hand to let them slap a little against his chin.

Without deepthroating all the way, he was getting better at this, he thought and shuddered as Heathcliff began to spurt inside his mouth thick ropes of tasty cum. He swallowed as he could, and let the excess flow down his chin and on his chest.

Heathcliff finally pulled away and took a look at him. Aidan was breathing hard, and he was sure he looked like a mess, but at this point, he couldn’t be made to care.

“Wow, bunny boy, just wow,” Heathcliff said with a broad grin. “I was right to tell you were a fast learner. Look at you, taking my cock like a champ. We’ll work on that swallowing technique, but you look pretty damned good like this, so I can’t complain. Do you mind if I hit the shower first really quick?”

Aidan nodded, and then he frowned. What the hell? Was he getting nothing? He looked down at his own cock, no way near getting soft, and tenting his shorts.

“What’s the matter, bunny boy?” Heathcliff asked, in his signature teasing voice. “Do you want to say something?”

Aidan threw him a murderous look and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I mean, like what the hell?”

“What do you mean?” Heathcliff raised his eyebrows, and his eyes were laughing even more than his mouth.

“I’m hard!” Aidan pointed out and grabbed his cock.

“And? You have to say it loud and clear, bunny boy.”

Aidan felt his courage fading. He blushed furiously, looked away, and eventually said, “Suck me off, too.”

“Louder, I don’t think I heard you,” Heathcliff said with a small laugh.

Aidan revolted. “Stone, I’m going to stuff your mouth with my cock until you choke.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a promise.”

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“So, my agent said it was for some sort of commercials for the Halloween season.”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s for commercial use to be released a few weeks before Halloween, yes.”

I needed the work. The plays on Broadway were shutting down almost as fast as they opened. It was just bad luck, a bunch of new plays that weren’t piquing the audience’s interest and some tired old revivals. There was more creative work being done off Broadway and in some clubs. I liked doing those, but they didn’t pay too well. I was barely getting by.

“I’ve looked at a bunch of résumés that were sent to me by the New York agents, and yours was one of the standouts. Good enough for us to pay your way down here.”

“Yes, I was surprised to get a call from here. New York isn’t exactly—”

“New York has a freer environment overall. It’s where our best talent comes from.”

I didn’t want to argue myself out of a possible gig, so I didn’t pursue that point. The pay would be good. Real, real good for the number of hours it should entail. And commercials. They were great exposure for guys trying to break into movies. Which was what I was trying to do. Me and thousands of other young, good-looking guys, I’d found. But I had talent. I’d been in two Broadway plays, one with a small speaking part. If either one had lasted more than two weeks, I would have been sitting pretty. And I was doing OK in Off Broadway and in the private clubs. Of course, the sooner I could get out of the private clubs, the better.

We were sitting in the out-door section of a café above the Virginia Beach boardwalk, and I was dividing my time between listening to the Holland guy and watching a volleyball game going on between muscle studs in their tiny Speedos below us. These obviously were guys more there to be seen than to play volleyball.

Andrew Holland was quite a looker too. He was the film producer who had paid my way down here. I was looking past him at the table down at the volleyball players and there wasn’t much difference between him and them other than age—and I wasn’t at all sure I didn’t give him the edge on desirability.

He was the mature Paul Newman type—with watery blue eyes, good facials, and silver gray hair, which, on him, as was the case occasionally, made him look younger than a guy should be with a full head of gray hair. He had a nice smile, and I liked that he was keeping this interview balanced—selling me on his project as much as testing me for suitability for the gig. He had a smooth and easy delivery. A perfect salesman type, but one of million-dollar projects, not used Edsels. He also, from what I could see, was as cut—especially for his age—as any of the young guys at the volleyball net. He was wearing a silver-gray-colored sports coat, but under that was a form-fitting black polo shirt. It all went perfectly well with the watery blue eyes, open smile, and perfectly cut gray hair.

The only incongruity I noticed, and I had no idea how to even ask about it, was that he was wearing close-fitting black-leather gloves. It didn’t seem to limit the dexterity of his hands, though. There had been no hesitation or awkwardness in picking up his beer glass. He seemed completely at home in the gloves. But I kept looking at those gloves as he talked.

I had no idea how I had gotten there. I was bound, naked, in a spread X, on my back, on a bondage table, my mouth gagged with a ball gag. A man in a devil’s mask çerkez escort and black cape, but otherwise naked except for black-leather gloves and a studded chest harness, was standing next to the table, hovering over me, slowly stroking my cock. His build was mature and I could see the gray hair above the devil’s mask, but his body was trim and well-muscled. He was hard, and what he was swinging was nothing to laugh at. I was already hard too and was raising my pelvis to the jacking, curling my trapped fingers and toes, and pulling hard at the bonds. Wanting to be free, but not for escape anymore. No, I wanted to do more in the sexual encounter. His stroking, going off beat now and then to make me shudder, was driving me crazy. Relentlessly stroking me, sending me high above the clouds. I came, but he didn’t stop stroking. He slowed down from the crescendo he’d reached, but he didn’t stop. It was painful at first, and I begged in muffled sounds through the gag for relief, but he didn’t stop, bringing me hard again and then to another ejaculation. Pulling on my cock with that gloved hand. No sense of the passage of time, knowing only that he had been at it for a long time. Starting for a third time . . .

He was mounting the bondage table, straddling my chest. He freed me of the ball gag, cupped my head in his hands, and presented his hard cock for sucking. The pubic hair nesting his cock was black with streaks of gray. Curly; smelt of musk. My chance to participate more in the sexual encounter.

“. . . specialty films, really.”

My attention came back to the present. Holland was leaning over the table, deeper into a sales pitch. It wasn’t a pitch he needed to give me. He had me at the fee quote—and the anticipation that it would be shown on TV. Commercials. Advertising I didn’t have to pay for, one way or the other. And in New York, payment in the entertainment world didn’t always come in the form of cash. If he wanted me to get up from this table and go with him to nail down the audition, I was prepared to go. I can’t say I didn’t want to go.

In the New York world, he’d said.

“Why Virginia Beach, down in Virginia?” I asked, not even aware of why I asked, but needing to get back into the conversation, needing not to reveal that I had been off into a disturbing fantasy. I was trying to keep my eyes off the tight-fitting black gloves. I thought that it would make him mad for me to draw attention them. But he was expressive when he talked. They were waving in front of my face. There was no way I could avoid looking at them.

“The Navy mostly—and production costs. Lots of naval presence here, and it’s actually cheaper to bring whoever we need down from New York or out from Los Angeles than to pay the New York or California production prices.”

Los Angeles. I ached to be in Los Angeles. In movies.

“The Navy? You do training films?”

“Yes, we do a lot of training films. Navy guys are naturals for that. That’s sort of what this film is about too. Demonstrating how the technique we’re showing is done.”

My attention was arrested by the volleyball game down on the beach. It had been disbanded. There were still two studly looking guys down there, though. One was backed up against a light pole at the edge of the sand, his arms drawn above his head and his fists clutching the stem of the pole above him. The other guy was leaning close in to him with ceyhan escort a hand on his waist, speaking low and seemingly intensely to the other guy. I was projecting the kiss—and was both titillated and surprised at the image occurring right out here on the open public beach. But they just stood there for a while and then both turned and walked off. They walked close together, though, the one guy’s arm around the waist of the other guy, holding him in close to the hip and giving the impression of having full control. Climbing the steps, walking to the entrance to the ocean-side lobby of the hotel next to where we were sitting. The two guys turned their eyes to each other. The face I could see was of the guy being led. There were mixed signals there, I thought. He turned back toward the ocean front at the door, almost as if he was going to pull back, walk away. There were two hands on his waist now, though, turning him back to the Hotel entrance, gently pushing him inside.

I was bound wrists and ankles, standing facing and bound to a Saint Andrew’s cross inside a room painted all in black. I was looking at a full-length mirror mounted on the wall across the room, so I could watch it all. I could see a mound of black material through the bottom of the legs of the cross that my legs were spread and bound to. The material spilled out around the edges of the cross limbs. It was moving, undulating, in a rhythm that I could feel all the way through my naked body. My cock had been pulled between my legs and was being sucked by an expert mouth—a mouth and throat that could take me deep and hold me inside, throbbing. Keep me gasping for breath. A hand laced my balls between its leather-covered fingers, pulling them out from my body and squeezing and rolling them. I got the full effect of my facial expressions through the V of the top of the cross—my mouth open and slack, my eyes slitted in combined pain and ecstasy. Breathing heavy, panting. I could clearly hear my own moans. My cock was free except that the hand worrying my balls had moved a gloved finger to encase the root of the staff. My entrance was being rimmed and flicked with a tongue. The tongue was pressing inside. The finger encircling the base of my cock tightened its squeeze. My balls were being rolled and pulled.

I could hear a voice murmuring weakly, “Fuck me. Please fuck me now.” I only belatedly realized that it was my own voice.

And the answering laugh. I could not get the raspy answering laugh out of my mind.

When I had come, the figure rose behind me, and the mask of a devil face, topped with silver-gray hair, appeared over my shoulder. A black-gloved hand cupped my chin and pulled my head back, as I felt another gloved hand cupping my buttocks and then helping to guide the cap of a hard cock at the rim of my hole. A long cock slid and slid and slid up into me. I felt the sliver studs of the chest harness rubbing on my back. I cried out my welcome—”Yes, yes, YES!”—and began moving my hips against the building plowing of the cock inside me, pulling at my bindings, wanting some form of control and way to signal that I didn’t need to be held captive to want this. A freeing that no form of begging was granting me.

“Excuse me. Exactly what sort of commercials are these?” I asked as I once more became aware of the film producer sitting across from me, leaning into me, smiling his mature Paul Newman smile, and, now, ceylan escort with a gloved hand on my thigh under the table, squeezing my thigh gently—in a rhythm that was reminiscent of the rhythm of the stroking in my St. Andrew’s cross fantasy.

“Not commercials, exactly. Commercial films. Ones that make very good money and that could give you exposure for larger roles in larger films.”

“I’m not sure I—”

I was getting the drift of this. Exposure. Exposure indeed. But I couldn’t form words to respond before he broke in, pressing the sell. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. The feel of that gloved hand on my thigh was robbing my brain of thought.

“It was Jake Plaugher who put us on to your agent. Jake Plaugher is a friend of ours. He’s made some films with his. I believe he is a special friend of yours too. Is that not so?”

Jake Plaugher. I tensed. He was saying that he knew what I let Jake Plaugher do to me. It wasn’t just that this man wanted me to go with him to audition on my back for a film gig.

His voice was low, almost singsong in texture, drawing me in. “In and out, in and out—the slide of the cock—coupled with the helpless pull at the bindings. That’s such a visual image, isn’t it? Just like these gloves are. You haven’t asked about the gloves. I wear them to provide a visual image of what might be, what is to come, what can be yours if you give yourself to me. And I’m a visual man.” Holland’s mature Paul Newman smile was mesmerizing, but something in the smile was changing. “And the image of giving over all control to another . . . to a real expert in the sensual . . . a man who can give you what you need . . .”

He didn’t finish that sentence. I had interjected a strangled moan, surfaced not only from the images he had spun but also from the black-gloved hand he had moved to my basket. I only then was aware that I had slid down on my chair, my tailbone at the front edge, to permit the hand, which had been slowly working its way up my thigh, to reach my crotch. I had raised one of my feet to his chair, resting it beside his rump, and he was gripping my ankle in his other gloved hand, holding it there, tightly, in thrall, for a brief moment. No matter how brief the moment, though, I felt the sense of the imprisonment, of the control he was asserting.

“Come,” Holland said, rising, and putting out his gloved hand. “The studio isn’t far from here. We can have you back on a plane to New York this evening. We’ve arranged for Jake Plaugher to meet you at JFK upon your return and to put you up for the night. I understand Jake has unusual ways to put you up. We can be just as inventive as Jake is, though—in fact, you might decide you are too exhausted to accept Jake’s offer. But it will be an exhaustion that leaves you humming. And, who knows, maybe you won’t want to return to New York at all.”

Hearing his raspy laugh—a shudderingly familiar laugh—at his own joke, I looked up into his face. Was this the face of the man I had sat down at the table with?

“Come be a part of our Halloween special. Come. I can fulfill your darkest fantasies—and immortalize them on film. You do have dark fantasies, don’t you?”

He knew. I could almost believe now that he had invoked them.

Seeing him now, the expression on his face, the change that had come into it, I wondered. The man in my fantasies. Was he wearing a mask at all in those fantasies—or was this the face of that man?

Trembling, I rose, and put my hand—and the next several hours of my time and freedom; only that, if I was lucky—in his black-leather gloved hand as he turned me with the other hand on my waist and guided me out of the café and into the backseat of a chauffeured black limousine.

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The day after the storm, the cleanup began. Some houses had been flooded; windows were broken; tree limbs and leaves littered the town. The worst damage was to one of the bed and breakfasts; an entire section of its roof had been lost and would need fast repair, since the place was already booked up for the summer season. Fortunately, despite the property damage, no one had been hurt.

As soon as it was declared safe for people to leave the emergency shelter at the high school, Declan returned to his cottage. There was no electricity, but he didn’t care. It was better than enduring the shelter any longer. Even if Shane was there.

It astonished Declan that he’d run into his former lover in an emergency shelter, of all places. Six years of separation, and they’d found each other again. He was equally astonished by his reaction to seeing Shane. It had seemed like no time at all had passed; they talked as easily as ever. And clearly time hadn’t diminished the attraction between them, as evidenced by their lovemaking in the basement of the high school.

But even Shane wasn’t enough to keep Declan at the shelter any longer than necessary. He had always hated crowds, and the shelter had been filled to overflowing. The noise had been too much for him. Having no electricity was a small price to pay.

The morning of the second day after the storm, Declan awoke to bright sunlight and the sounds of cleaning and construction outside. He got up and looked out the window at the blue sky. It was a perfect day for painting. He got his things together and left the cottage without bothering to shower or change. Showering would have been miserable without electricity to heat the water, and the shorts and T-shirt he’d worn to bed were acceptable to wear outdoors.

Many of the nearby trees had been almost stripped by the high winds. The bare limbs against the sky appealed to Declan. He set up his easel in a corner of the yard and was preparing his paint when he heard someone call, “Declan! Good morning!”

Declan turned to see Shane hurrying across the lawn. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You don’t sound too happy to see me,” Shane said. “Did I do something wrong?”

Only brought more confusion to Declan’s life than he’d felt in years. “No, of course not,” he said. “I just woke up, and I’m surprised to see you. I thought you’d be working.”

“I took a few days off. My place is kind of a mess; some windows got broken, and there’s debris all over the yard. And some in the house. Besides, I can’t shower until the power comes back, and I don’t think my coworkers want to smell me.”

“You could have showered at the shelter, couldn’t you?”

“Sure, if I’d wanted to wait in line forever. Everyone’s trying to shower there, even the people who’ve gone home. I don’t mind having some time off from work. Cleaning up is going to take a few days, since I don’t have anyone to help me.”

Declan wanted to spend his day painting and recovering from being at the shelter. He wanted to be alone. But Shane was clearly hinting for his help with the cleanup, and Declan didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Besides, spending time with Shane wouldn’t be exactly unpleasant. “I can help if you’d like,” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Shane said.

“I’m sure. Just let me put this stuff away.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your painting. I know how much you hate that.”

Though that had never stopped him before. Countless times when they’d been together, Declan had been in the middle of a painting when Shane had started conversations with him. He had never seemed to grasp that Declan needed to concentrate on his art, and he’d usually gotten annoyed if Declan tried to ignore him. But after six years, maybe Shane had changed.

“You aren’t interrupting,” Declan said. “I hadn’t started yet. I can paint later. The branches will still be there.”

“Okay.” Shane smiled. “Help would be great. I was actually bucak escort on the way to the glass place to see about new windows, and decided to stop by and see how you’re doing. You didn’t tell me you were leaving the shelter yesterday.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“I understand. I know you hate being around that many people. That’s why I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He looked around. “You don’t seem to have had much damage here.”

“No, fortunately. The person I’m renting from is hard to get hold of.” Declan took down his easel. “Here, carry this for me, please.”

“Sure.”

Shane took the easel. Declan picked up the rest of his supplies and led Shane into the cottage. “Nice place,” Shane said.

“It’s not bad,” Declan agreed. “For a week of painting and relaxing, it’ll do.”

“Are you still leaving at the end of the week?” Shane sounded disappointed. “The other night, you said you might stay till the end of the summer.”

“I might, if I can find somewhere to stay. This cottage is already rented out for the next few weeks, so I have to leave Saturday afternoon.”

“You could stay with me. My house has two bedrooms, so there wouldn’t be any pressure on you.” He touched Declan’s shoulder. “I’d like you to stay, Declan. I know we’ve been apart for a long time, but I’d like to try again.”

Declan wasn’t sure what to say. He still had feelings for Shane, there was no question about that. Strong feelings. But did he want to get involved with him again? “We can talk about it,” he said finally. “It’s only Thursday; as long as I’m out of the cottage by five o’clock Saturday, I’m all set. There’s time to decide.” Not that two days was enough time to make that big a decision. He and Shane had lived together for years, but now Declan was used to living alone. He wasn’t sure he could adjust to living with someone again. And even if he and Shane agreed that he was just staying at Shane’s house for the rest of the summer, there would be hopes and expectations on both sides, ones that it might be better not to meet.

“There’s plenty of time,” Shane agreed. “Meanwhile, are you going to change before we go to the glass place?”

Declan looked down at his shorts and T-shirt. “Change? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Shane laughed. “You never were much on fashion. Okay, come on, then.”

It took them a while at the glass shop to arrange to have new windows made, but finally they were told that someone would be at Shane’s the next day. “That was needlessly annoying,” Shane said as they went back to his pickup truck. “I know there’s a lot of storm damage around, but all they had to say was they’d make an appointment. They didn’t have to argue so much.”

“Neither did you,” Declan pointed out. “I thought you were going to leap across the counter and throttle the guy.”

“I thought about it,” Shane admitted. “Okay. Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

“Not yet.” Declan’s stomach rumbled; he hadn’t realized until then that he was hungry. “I couldn’t have cooked anything if I’d wanted to; the stove’s electric. And I guess I’m going to have to throw out all the stuff in the fridge. I just went shopping Monday.”

“Yeah, it stinks. I’m going to have to get rid of a bunch of stuff too, but there’s no point in buying any more until the power’s back on. I called the power company this morning and got a recording saying it could be on as early as this afternoon or as late as Monday, depending on how damaged the lines are.”

“Nothing like being definite.”

They got into the truck, and Declan took his favorite position, slumped down in the passenger seat with his feet on the dash. “Aren’t you a little old to sit like that?” Shane teased.

“I’m thirty-five. Not quite ancient,” Declan replied. “And this is comfortable.”

“Yeah, but you’re getting dirt on my dashboard.”

“I’ll wipe it off.”

Shane bulancak escort laughed. “Some things never change. You always used to say that, and you never wiped off the dirt.”

“Maybe I wanted to leave my mark.”

“Believe me, you did.”

Shane drove back through town, avoiding the fallen branches and other debris that the public works department hadn’t yet removed from the streets. “It’s a nice place,” he said. “When Frank and I moved here, I thought it would be too quiet. I was used to the city. But I’ve really liked living here.”

“Which I assume is why you stayed after Frank left,” Declan said.

“Yeah. Kind of funny, really. He was the one who wanted to move here, but I was the one who wanted to stay.”

“That is interesting. Why did he want to move here in the first place?”

“His family used to come here summers, and he liked the place. We bought the house from one of his uncles; we got it for a song, because no one else in the family wanted it after his grandparents passed away.”

“But Frank didn’t want to keep the house when you and he separated?”

“Like I said, he didn’t want to stay here. And the house was in my name; I’m the one who made the down payment and paid most of the mortgage. You know what, let’s change the subject, okay? I don’t want to talk about Frank anymore. He and I split up a year ago, and I haven’t even heard from him since. I want to talk about you and me.”

That was a conversation Declan didn’t want to have. Not yet. The night at the shelter, he and Shane had talked about getting together again, about the feelings for each other that had never completely gone away. But that had come partly from their surprise at seeing each other again. Now Declan was having second thoughts. He still loved Shane; he’d known that for six years. But was that enough to make things work between them again?

“What needs to be done at your house?” Declan asked.

Shane sighed. “If you don’t want to talk about us, all you have to do is say so. I guess I’m going to have to put up some boards over the broken windows for now, until they show up to fix them, and I want to clear the yard as much as possible. And of course there’s broken glass all over the place inside, and some other mess. I just left the shelter this morning; I haven’t done anything at home yet.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want to talk about us,” Declan said. “It’s that I don’t know what to say yet.”

“Maybe we don’t need to say anything.” Shane rested his hand on Declan’s thigh. “I think we said a lot the other night, with and without words. Making love to you felt as right as it always has. We still belong together, Declan. We never should have been apart.”

“But we have been apart. For a long time. We can’t pretend six years don’t exist.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking for another chance. We can start from scratch if that’s what you want, but after the other night, I don’t think we need to.”

They turned onto a dirt road that led over a slight hill. When they crested the hill, Declan caught his breath. Ahead of them was a weatherbeaten house; the grey boards almost sparkled in the sunlight. Beyond the house, the ocean stretched to the horizon. “It’s beautiful!” Declan exclaimed.

“Something you could paint.” Shane drove up in front of the house and shut off the truck. “It’s a great place, but lonely sometimes. Especially in the winter; the closest houses are summer people.”

“I’d love that. No one around, peace and quiet…”

“You always did like that. You and I are such opposites. Sometimes I wonder what kept us together for ten years.”

“We made things work. The differences didn’t matter.”

“And we could make them work again.”

Shane leaned toward Declan and placed his hand gently on the side of Declan’s face. Against his better judgment, Declan met Shane’s lips with his own. For a few minutes, they were lost in their bulanık escort kiss.

Shane broke it. “Inside. Cleaning can wait. Right now, I need you.”

“Shane, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Declan, please.” Keeping his hand against Declan’s cheek, Shane slid the other hand up Declan’s thigh. “The other night was amazing. We were always good together, and that hasn’t changed. I want you, Declan.”

Declan felt his body responding to Shane’s touch. He wanted Shane too, but despite their time together at the shelter, it felt now like making love would be going too far, too soon. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “And talk about it.”

“You talk too much,” Shane grumbled.

Declan grinned. “And you’re always horny. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to fuck today.”

“I can talk you into it.”

“We’ll see.”

They got out of the truck and went inside. The place was more of a mess than Declan had expected; after the windows had broken, apparently the wind had scattered papers and other things around. “I definitely have some work ahead of me,” Shane said.

“Better get started, then.”

Declan bent to pick up a piece of paper, and Shane took advantage by caressing his ass. “Good position for you,” Shane said.

“Very funny.” Declan stood up and looked around for a trash can. “Where should I put this?”

“Down.” Shane’s arms went around him. “Forget about cleaning. Think about us. Think about how good I make you feel. I love you, Declan.”

“You do make me feel good.” The bulge in the front of Declan’s shorts proved that. “But if you’re serious about trying to make it work again, we can’t rush things, Shane. You’re right; the other night was great. I’ve missed you more than I realized. But that doesn’t mean we can just-“

Shane cut him off with a kiss. Their tongues came together, and one of Shane’s hands roamed below Declan’s waist, finding the hardness there. Declan gasped into Shane’s mouth at the touch.

Before the night at the shelter, Declan hadn’t been with anyone in nearly a year. He’d lost himself in his art and his job, and had given up on finding a partner. He’d thought he hadn’t missed sex at all, but since being with Shane again, his body seemed to want and expect more. He ran his hands down Shane’s back, over his ass. Shane rubbed Declan’s cock through his shorts, and Declan moaned. “Does that feel good?” Shane asked.

“You know it does.”

“Then let me make you feel better.”

Shane knelt in front of Declan and pulled his shorts down, revealing Declan’s cock. Shane grasped it in one hand and licked the tip. “Do you want me to suck you, baby?” he asked.

Declan’s second thoughts warred with his desire to feel Shane’s mouth on him. The desire won. “Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, I want that.”

Shane’s mouth engulfed Declan’s cock. He sucked, sliding his mouth up and down Declan’s shaft until Declan wanted to explode. “God, Shane, that feels amazing!” he said. “I’m going to come!”

Shane glanced up, a gleam in his eye, and sucked harder. Declan felt his balls tighten and said again, “Shane, I’m coming!”

When they’d been together before, Shane had never allowed Declan to come in his mouth, though he’d filled Declan’s mouth plenty of times. But now, Shane continued sucking until Declan felt himself erupt. “Oh, god, Shane!”

When Declan’s orgasm ended, Shane licked his cockhead clean and stood, grinning. “Bet you never thought I’d do that, huh?”

“I guess six years can change things,” Declan said. “That was incredible. Can I return the favor?”

“Not right now. We’ve got some cleaning up to do.” Shane bent and pulled Declan’s shorts back up. “I’ll take your returned favor later. Let’s get to work.”

“Things really have changed.” During their relationship, Shane had never done anything without reciprocity.

“One thing hasn’t.” Shane kissed Declan’s lips. “I love you. Now come on, let’s get some of this stuff cleaned up so we can take a break and finish what we just started.”

“I just finished,” Declan pointed out. “And I love you too.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Shane went to a nearby closet and took out a broom. “Here. We’ll start with cleaning the bedroom.” He winked and went upstairs.

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Last night, my friend Eric and I had some really hot sex down at the Adult Theatre. Eric had me wear a pair of my wife’s panties and I was a sissy fuck-boy for a whole theatre full of horny men. My wife is out of town for the weekend, so we are gonna be as lecherous as two bisexual fuck-buddies can be.

This morning, I awoke to the sensation of Eric’s hand stroking on my stiffening cock. My dick isn’t huge, but at 7 inches long and 2 inches wide, it’s big enough. Eric’s hand was wrapped around my cock, and I could feel the strength in his grip…firm, yet gentle. He leaned in and kissed my cock on the head.

“Good morning, slut” he said then chuckled. “I saved your panties from last night, I don’t care what you tell your old lady, but I gotta keep ’em, man. That was too hot. I think we should go back and do it again tonight!” He looked at me and smiled, then he engulfed my now completely raging cock with his supple lips, and began giving me a slow, sensuous blow job. It was fucking great, and I just leaned back into the pillows and enjoyed it as much as I possibly could. Unfortunately, Eric sucks cock like the best of them, and in no time I blew a load of my spunk into his steamy-wet mouth. It was actually only the second time I had cum since we started our little weekend. Last night I was so busy getting all the other guys off, I only came twice in the Adult Theatre.

Eric swallowed every last drop and then asked me “So, what’re we gonna do today?”

In all honesty, I had no idea, so I said “What do you wanna do?”

“I was thinking,” Eric said “why don’t we just hang out here and relax around the house. Last night was pretty wild, and I’m bushed”

“All right, I’m gonna shower” I said, and off I went.

We spent the morning doing just that, a light breakfast, football game and some snacks in the early afternoon…honestly, a pretty tame day. Until after the game, that is.

At about 7 o’clock or so, Eric got up and went into the bedroom, at first I didn’t think much of it, but he was gone for a while so I asked him: “Dude, what are you doing?”

“C’mon in here” he replied.

When I walked to the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of Eric, all of his six feet tall, blond haired, blue eyed and well-muscled contractor body on my bed. The light hair that sparsely populated his thighs was lit up by the bed stand lamp, and his arms rippled in the low light. He was on all fours, rocking back and forth to the fucking motion his right hand generated with my wife’s largest rubber dildo stuck up his asshole. He was looking back at me and grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“This fucker’s a monster, man, but it feels awesome in my asshole.”

In fact, it is a monster. I bought it for the wife as a joke. It must be 3 inches thick and a good 13 inches long. It has realistic (but oversized) balls hanging under it. Except for the bright purple color, it looks like a real, giant dick. My buddy had it stuffed in his asshole and was fucking himself with it. Even the wife’s pussy had only taken it once, and that took a lot of time and lube.

I stripped off my clothes and climbed onto the bed next to Eric. Taking his cue by the fact that he had a dildo in his asshole, Eric wanted to be the bottom tonight, which was fine with me (my ass still hurt). I knelt next to his head and without saying a word to him, grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. I slapped my cock against his face a few times and rubbed it on his lips.

“Open çarşamba escort your mouth, fucker” I said. Then I reached back and grabbed the dildo by the base, and quickly drove it all the way into his ass. He opened his mouth to gasp, and I stabbed my throbbing cock in between his teeth.

“Suck my cock, all the way down.” I grabbed another handful of hair and I began to savagely fuck his face and throat.

Eric was moaning and groaning and slobbering all over my cock and balls. He really likes getting face fucked.

“Rub your nose in my pubes, bitch” I said “Take all that cock in your throat. I’ll fuck your face while that big rubber prick is in your ass. You like that, don’t you?

Eric grunted in agreement.

I pulled my throbbing dick from his mouth and spun him around. “Show me your ass, let me see where you like men to put their big hard cocks, you slut.”

Eric wiggled his butt at me, which was delicious with that huge dildo in the middle of it. I grabbed his balls with my left hand and began to tug them down while I began drilling in and out of his butt with the dildo. I worked him over pretty good, making sure to keep pressure on his balls so he couldn’t cum. I was really turned on, knowing that I was fucking my buddy in his asshole with my wife’s dildo. If she only knew…

“Oh god yes! Please fuck me harder. Make me cum.” Eric said. I let go of the dildo and slapped him hard on his ass with my right hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, bitch. I’ll fuck you as hard as I like. You’ll fucking cum IF and WHEN I tell you to, and not before. I you let so much as a dribble of spunk out of your cock without permission, I’ll punish you like never before.” With that, I squeezed his balls a little harder in my hand. Not painfully, but enough to send a message. Of course, I knew all this would really do is force some precum out the tip of his dick. The punishment is the best part! I slapped him once more on his ass and resumed pistoning the dildo in and out. This went on for a while until I rolled him onto his back and pulled the rubber cock from his well stretched asshole. I spread his legs and put his ankles on my shoulders like a woman.

“Tell me you want my cock, bitch” I said.

“Please, let me have your cock. Bury it in me and let me make you cum. Shoot your big load in my asshole. I love it there…”

I lubed my dick while he was talking and without warning, shoved it balls deep, all the way into his ass with one thrust.

“Ooooh godddd…!” he moaned.

His ass was a little loose from the dildo, which was actually a turn on for me. I began to fuck him hard and fast. I wanted this game to last a while, but I was too turned on. I fucked him hard and in no time. I could feel my balls boiling. I pulled my throbbing cock from his hole and straddled his chest. I stroked my cock a few times and then blew my load all over his face.

“Open your mouth, cunt!” I told him. Then I worked the last couple of spurts right into his mouth. “Swallow” I ordered.

He greedily gulped down my cum.

Then I reached down and grabbed his cock. “What the fuck is this? It looks like you’ve been leaking cum. I TOLD you not to do that, you fucking punk-bitch. Now I have to punish you for disobeying me.” I squeezed his cock tightly, then reached down and grabbed his balls. “You’ll have to make this up to me, bitch. I don’t like being disobeyed.”

I let go of his nut sack and walked to my wife’s dresser. Opening çaycuma escort the top drawer, I reached in and grabbed a pair of thigh high stockings and a garter belt.

“Since you seem to like women’s clothing, tonight it’s your turn. Put these on.” And I threw him the stockings and belt. Eric didn’t say a word, he just opened the package and began putting on the hose. Then he clipped the stockings to the belt and I told him to get my cum-stained panties from last night and put them on. Over that, I dressed him in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt.

I ordered him to get the car ready while I got dressed. When I got to the car, Eric was sitting in the passenger seat with a look of pure lust on his face. “These feel fucking incredible, man. I should start dressing like this more often.”

“Shut up and suck my cock while I drive”, was my response. “When we get to the theatre, you will march right up to the desk and buy us each tickets. Shake your ass a little bit, so everyone will know why you’re there.”

Eric leaned in and unzipped my fly, taking out my cock and sucking on it for the 10 minute drive to the ABS. When we arrived, things looked pretty good; there were quite a few cars in the lot. Eric did as instructed, and did a nice job of sashaying his ass. I know I wanted to fuck him, and judging by the looks from some of the guys in the store, I wasn’t alone.

We went back to the theatre area and walked in. The place was busy. It was obvious tha some action was going on until we walked, so I reached over and rubbed Eric’s dick, to let everyone know we were cool. Soon enough, all the guys in the room began moving around back to whatever they were doing before. A lot of jerking off, and a few couples jacking and sucking each other. I was surprised to see the young, college aged kid whose cock I had sucked last night was here again. He saw me and walked over and stood next to me. He groped my groin and I did his. Then I turned to Eric and said “drop your pants, fag” in his ear.

Eric did and college boy looked over and did a double take. Then he looked at me and I nodded. He went and knelt next to Eric and began rubbing his nylon covered thighs. Eric’s cock was already pushing against the red satin of his panties. With college boy feeling him up, it would be no time before he added another come stain to the crotch.

“You look really sexy, man” said college boy “you like wearing women’s underwear, dontcha?” I can tell you do. Your cock is really hard.” To me he said “Can I see his ass?”

I lightly slapped Eric on the ass cheek. “Turn around and show him your ass, pussy boy. Don’t make him wait again, or you’ll be sorry. As it is, every man here who wants to can fuck your mouth and asshole tonight, as punishment for your earlier disobedience.” With that, I looked at college boy and said “Enjoy.”

“Bend over the chair and show us what you got” I told Eric. He did, and I saw that other men in the room were starting to take notice of us. I smiled and nodded at every one of them who made eye contact, and before too long there were 7 or 8 men standing around Eric, who was still bent over the theatre chair. College had pulled the panties down to Eric’s knees and was working a wet finger into Eric’s already loosened asshole. A 30’s looking dude stepped in front of Eric and without saying anything to him, stuck a 6 inch dick right into his waiting mouth. College boy then rolled on a rubber and began stuffing Eric’s asshole full çayırova escort of hard dick flesh. Eric was moaning around the dick in his mouth.

“Suck it good, bitch” I said, whispering in Eric’s ear. “Drink his cum like the little punk you are.”

Mr. Blowjob grunted and quite obviously began pumping a load of jizz into Eric’s mouth. As Eric gulped it down without spilling a drop, I noticed that all of the other guys had pulled their pricks out. It was a diverse crowd, mid 20’s to mid 50’s but they all had average or better cocks. Two middle aged guys were stroking each other while watching the action. College boy was fucking Eric’s ass hard and fast and couple guys were rubbing Eric’s nylons. Eric finished swallowing his first load and as soon as the dude stepped back, his cock was replaced by the next one. This guy had the biggest cock of the group, probably 8 inches long and 2 inches thick. It was straight as an arrow. And this dude like d it rough, like Eric does. Big Dick literally grabbed hold of Eric’s ears and began slamming his cock into Eric’s throat. He fucked his face with a rapid series of deep thrusts, then pulled out and stepped back.

“I want his ass next” Big Dick announced.

As if on cue, College Boy grunted and filled his rubber with cum. He pulled his cock out of Eric’s ass and began pulling his rubber off. “Let me” I said, and I carefully pulled the rubber off his dick. I then pulled Eric’s hair, removing his mouth from the cock he was sucking and turning it. “Open up” I said, then I poured the cum out of the rubber into Eric’s open mouth. “Swallow, bitch.” I told him.

Big Dick then stepped behind Eric and spit on his latex covered dick. He rubbed the head around Eric’s asshole, then pushed himself inside and began fucking Eric hard. Eric went back to sucking a 6 inch cock attached to one of the middle-aged guys who were jerking off earlier. Soon, while Big Dick fucked him, Eric was swallowing another load of fresh cum. That dick was replaced by yet another one and Eric began sucking his 4th cock in a row. I could tell he was loving this. Big Dick was a rough fucker and he was really hammering his cock in and out of Eric’s abused asshole. Eric was enjoying it so much he was loosing concentration on his dick sucking, so the guy in his mouth grabbed the back of his head and began face-fucking him. Now Eric had Big Dick hammering his asshole and his face was being used by a fit, 30-something guy with a 6 inch dick. It was too much for me to handle and I slid under Eric and began to suck on his cock while stroking his nylon covered legs. Eric began to moan and groan like a madman and within seconds of me taking his fat cock in; he began to shoot his sticky spunk into my mouth.

Big Dick cried out “Aw fuck, I’m gonna cum!” and I reached up and grabbed the base of his shaft. I pulled him out of Eric’s ass, ripped the rubber off, and began sucking his fat cock just in timer for him to add his load to my already cum filled mouth.

When he finished, I slipped out from under the pile and grabbed Eric’s head in my hands. I had him kneel in front of me, and while two guys were watching and stroking heir cocks, I tipped Eric’s head back and spat my mouthful of cum onto his face. Then I used my own hard prick to rub it around and shovel it into his waiting mouth. Eric then sucked my cock and I savagely fucked his throat. I was so fucking turned on that it was only a few minutes and I drove my cock into the back of his throat and shot my load right into his belly.

I then sat down in a chair and watched as 3 more guys had their way with my little garter belt wearing sissy. Eric did manage to cum one more time before we left, and he swallowed all three loads, one right from his asshole. It was hot.

And just think, we still had one day to go.

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