Stranger (4)

She worked. It focused her, took her mind off of him, of what he’d done to her. Of what she’d enjoyed him doing to her. The words echoed off some primal nubbin of her brain. No. She was civilized, reasonable. Responsible. She didn’t agree to this. Didn’t like this.

Did not.


Yet anytime some little nugget of memory rose, she found herself squirming in her chair. In the ladies room, her cunt would be oozing. Her asshole clenched. The memories of her body kept The Incident alive.


He let her stew. He’d watch her always from afar. A stranger never strayed too close, after all, until it became totally necessary to remind her of what she was capable of. Of what he was capable of. Her body was looser, these days. She walked with a sexual roll, hips swaying rather than the staccato steps common in today’s businesswoman. How many times did her nipples rise each day, he wondered, looking at the telling jut under her shirt. She was seemingly unaware of them, locked, he thought, in the memory of his body buried in hers. He watched other people, men and women alike, pause for a moment, watching her. The swing of her hair, the sashaying walk, the curve of her tits, the pebbled nipples poking cheekily from her top. Men licked their lips, or would touch their fly; women would either stare in admiration, or avert their eyes. Just one visit and already such change he had made on her.

His smile was wolfish. Soon it would be time for another.




Stranger (3)

She paced around her place, naked. Her fingers strayed often to her breasts, her nipples. They were hard, had been hard.

Almost as hard as his cock.

NO! The thoughts kept intruding, poking holes in the cloak of calm she was trying to draw around herself. She hadn’t called the cops. Hadn’t leapt from the bed in fear or dismay. She hadn’t seen his face, his hands, his anything.

She only felt them.

She kept ‘feeling’ them, the large firmness of his penis buried deep in her darkest place. shit, holy shit,  his cock had been buried in her anus. Her asshole. Stretched-her-filled-her hurt -her; made her cum.

She came from having a man rape her ass.

Her nipples grew hard again, jutting into the cool air of the room. Day had fled; night slipped over the city. Tall towers speared light up into the sky.  Again she circled around her penthouse suite, her ass still throbbing all these hours later. Trying to work, every thought had fled, or been turned back to The Incident.  She couldn’t eat, couldn’t think of laying back on her bed. It had his scent, hers. The musk of cum filled her nose, the throb of lust stabbed her.  Trying to deny her mind, her body would not be silenced, Her fingers caressed the swollen buds of her breasts as she stalked around the rooms, ignoring that she was backlit by the lights.

Ignorant that she was on display, he wondered, looking across the way at her. Was she so stupid that she had no idea he–anyone– could look in and see her fondling herself, see the arousal flushed on her swollen tits?

He scanned the binoculars over her body, planning.


Stranger (2)

He could see her. No curtains on her windows, which is what first caught his eye. The room, boldly lit, hid nothing from his wildly expensive binoculars. She paced the room, hugging herself. Yet she’d pause, now and again, sliding a hand over one full tit, stopping to caress her nipples, rubbing at her beautifully round butt.

His cock, despite the workout, roused.

Oh, that ass. How deliciously tight her rosebud was. Trying to keep him out, only exciting him further. How wonderfully she’d moved under him. He’d felt the quiver of her cunt as she came, then came again. An exhibitionist, to be sure, but one who had hidden needs. He had known, all along. She had whimpered into the mattress, the slick sheen of sweat adding scent to the layer of intensity. She’d fought, he’d conquered. His cock leapt again, the sleeping beast waking to semi-hardness as the memories of her flooded him. He had enough self control to not reach down and stroke himself, preferring to let the need grow.

Until his next visit.


Stranger (1)

His cock was buried in her ass before she could move. Limbs tangled in sheets, she woke with the painful intrusion.

“Don’t. fight. me.”

His mouth was at her ear, the words staccato. His breath was warm, tickling. Her brain struggled to make sense. Was she dreaming? But the pain in her ass, the hard, grunting thrust was no dream.

“Take it all.”

Who was he? How had he gotten into her apartment? Though she whimpered and moaned, her body, held securely under his, was trapped too snugly to break free.

“It’s my ass now, and you’ll take every inch of my cock, whore.”

h u r t ss s” she cried, the word shaking as he thrust deep.

“Good,” he growled, then bit her shoulder. Her scream was muffled by the pillow, but no one would have heard anyway, her condo was too well insulated.

She felt like he was tearing her body, the steady hammering of his hips into her rectum an ache that throbbed deep into her core. Her orgasm shocked her, soaking the bed under her.

His cum splattered over her back as he withdrew. His hands smoothed it over her ass, her hips, before slapping her hard. They slid under her, scrabbling for her tits, finding them. She arched as he squeezed, pinching her nipples.

“Stay right here. Count to ten. Don’t move before then. I’ll know. You won’t like what happens.”

The bed shifted as he moved, then he was gone.




Masturbation Fantasy

Masturbation fantasies are often short, always dark, always dirty. This one got me off big-time last week.

“Go ahead…you can try to close your legs. Won’t work, but I’ll enjoy watching your tummy and thighs quiver and strain with the effort. All you can do is take it. The vibe on your clit, my cock in your cunt, and you can’t do a fucking thing to stop me.”

“mmmmm, your slit is tight, squeezing my cock. You want it rough, you know it, I know it. The vibe will keep you cumming, make you scream and whimper through the gag. I can’t see you, your head in that big brown bag, but I can hear those sexy little whimpers. Hurts but feels good, doesn’t it, slut?”

“Soon the guys will be here. Cunt, ass, doesn’t matter which hole. They’re open and ready for use, all soft and wet from cum…mine and yours. I’ll just prop this vibe here while I go grab a beer. You just lay there and try to squirm.”

“And listen for the doorbell….”

The Window ~ View 2

because Tip is impatient…~n~


The sun beat down on them as they sat around the pool.

“Hey, sweetie, go get me a beer.”

She rose gracefully, crossing the deck.

“Oh DAMN!” she moaned.

“What?” His tone was incredulous, belaying his inner grin.

“I did. I can’t believe it…” She twisted the door handle, disbelieving. It refused to budge.

Of course she hadn’t

He had.

“Well, at least you know how to break in now! Let me get the window for you.”

He rose, had her wait as he pushed in the screen. His big hand held the inner window up. Guiding her through, he paused her, placing his big hand on the small of her back as she lay half-in, half-out.

“That’s a mighty cute view,” he said.

“Not funny. Let me in…”

He quickly lowered the window, trapping her.

“HEY! Totally NOT funny. Hey!”

Her yelp changed tone as he tugged down her bikini bottom, sliding his fingers over the cleft of her ass. His ‘mmmmmhmmmm” carried clearly through the window.

“What the hell….” she yelped, struggling. Her toes curled as he sank his fingers into her cunt.

“Well, you have no objections to that, now, do you? Little slut.”

He fingered her until she was close, then pulled his hand away, wiping himself on her ass cheek. Pulling the key from the little pocket inside his trunks, he stepped around her and unlocked the door.

“What the fuck? What are you…”

She braced herself on her palms, canting her head up at him as he strode into the kitchen.

“You’re a sight, that’s for sure.”

“You bastard! I was right on the edge…”

“I know,” he said, his tone sing-song and totally unsympathetic. She hated when he was an asshole like this.

“Will you stop and let me out of here?”

“Nope. You’ve got to work for your freedom.”

Her eyes widened.

“What the …”

His cock shoved into her mouth before she could speak another word.

“If you bite me, or fight me, you’ll stay in that window all day,” he said, his fingers cupped around her throat, his shaft buried deep between her lips.

“I’ll take your silence for agreement. Now…suck it.”



The Window ~ Interlude

She told the story while blushing furiously.

“It was sooo stupid. I can’t believe I got stuck like that. Did you see the stupid sunburn?”

He nodded, smoothed cream on the burn, ointment on the scratches on her lower back. He knew she was an airhead at times, constantly forgetting to unlock the knob lock for instance. Someday he was just going to replace the handle. She didn’t need to be constantly keeping it locked anyway.

He ate, settled her in bed, went to his computer to watch a little porn. Once he knew for certain that she was sleeping, he opened a private window on his computer and started sifting through images. He had never told her about the little security cams hidden around the house. It had nothing to do with her, really, though he did jerk off now and again when he would find her masturbating. There was the quick thrill of the voyeur; but beyond that, watching what she did to get herself off, without realizing he was watching, was sexy. He used these tapes as learning experiences, often duplicating things she did when they fucked. Watching her eyes widen as he smacked her pussy before lapping at her clit had nearly made him come even before fucking her. It gave him a step up, a power that he knew that she didn’t. He always liked being a step ahead.

Quickly he scanned through the various cams until he found what he was looking for. The view was from inside the kitchen. He watched as she tried to open the door, laying her head against the window in annoyance. He watched her move in and out of view, until she came up to the window. Bending, her beautiful tits framed perfectly, she popped out the screen, leaned inside. He straightened when the heavy inner window came crashing down, though she had told him she’d somehow reached back and stopped it. Her wrist must be very sore from the way she caught the fucking thing, he thought, rewinding and watching the window fall again. He felt a little bit sick, truth to tell;  she could have been terribly harmed. It was definitely time to consider replacing the old windows. He watched while she struggled to lift it, failing again and again. Watched when she slumped, defeated, watched when she began to struggle. It had gone on for a long, long while.

Speeding up the video again, he paused when he saw a shadow appear behind her. From the glare of the sun beaming in the window it was impossible to see what it was. He backed up the feed, then watched in real time.

“Well I’ll be fucking damned,” he said softly, leaning closer to the computer screen. He couldn’t see clearly what was happening, but he could watch the results on her face; that expression on her face when she came was imprinted in his memory. Funny she hadn’t mentioned having this experience. He watched until he saw the window open, saw her gently steered inside, the window closing. The glare totally blocked the view of who her rescuer was from inside.

He clicked on a different icon, seeking the view from outside. Ah, there. He could see a man coming up on the porch, but not the face, damn the glare. Watching, he saw the scene unfolding, watched the unknown person lapping at her cunt, watched him fucking her. Unconsciously, he began rubbing himself. When his balls tightened, as the stranger stiffened, he spurted onto the floor. Shocked, he looked away from the screen at the blobs of cum between his feet. Fuck, that had been hotter than he could imagine.

Still, it was interesting that she hadn’t mentioned it. You’d think if your girl was raped while stuck through a window that she’d at least have a crying jag or something, rather than sleeping soundly in their bed. Being well fucked would do that to a girl, he guessed.

He clicked off the computer, grabbed a napkin and wiped up his junk, then headed to bed. Laying in the dark he began to think about how best to handle the situation. When the solution occurred to him, he smiled into the darkness, snugging her close to him, and fell asleep.



The Window- View 1

If she had the leverage, she would have kicked the wall. Hanging over the window sill, half-way in, half-way out of the house, she had given up all hope of rescue until her husband got home from work. The sun shone on the back of her legs, heating her up. She’d have the strangest sunburn, one that was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.


If only she’d thought to check the lock before going outside to clean the pool. If only she’d hung a spare door  key in the garage like she was always saying she was going to do. If only she hadn’t decided to boost herself up onto the window sill, popping the screen, and had the inner window casing fall. Thank the powers that be that she’d been able to reach behind and catch it before it fell upon her back–thinking that she could be laying stuck here with a broken back had terrified her for hours. The old window was too big and heavy to lift from this position, wedged against the small of her back.

Carl was going to shit himself laughing, when he saw her bikini-clad ass hanging out the window this way.

A hand stroked across her nearly bare bottom, startling her from her thoughts.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

The voice was distorted by the window resting against her body. Too fatigued from the uncomfortable position to lift her torso and see who was rubbing her butt, she moaned.

“Thank god. Can you lift up the window and help me out?”

There was no answer. Had she imagined it? Was there no one there after all? Her legs were suddenly kicked apart, and she realized what was about to happen.

“No! No you can’t…”

But the head of his cock rubbed her inner thigh in denial.

yes,” it seemed to whisper, “yes I can….”

Fingers tugged the small bit of fabric to one side, before stroking at her slit. Her ass and pussy were hot from the relentless sun beating down on them.  The seeking fingers lifted away. She tried to wriggle, to kick out, but her belly hurt from laying over the windowsill for so long and her legs were nearly numb. The reprieve was momentary; she felt something wet rubbing against her hot pink flesh. A tongue. His tongue! He was licking her. She didn’t mean to moan when the arrow of his tongue stabbed into her cunt hole. She hadn’t meant to respond when the seeking tip of muscle flicked at her clit. Long lapping strokes along her slit were followed by short quick stabs into her. She whimpered now, feeling the undeniable stirrings of need growing in her pussy. He suckled her clit like a baby sucks on a bottle, until she shrieked and shivered and came hard. The tongue lapped at her, long after it was comfortable. Her clit throbbed in the aftermath of her orgasm, yet he kept lapping. When she came again, she nearly fainted at the overwhelming rawness. Two orgasms?  She’d never had two orgasms back to back in her life. Fingers slipped inside her cunt, fucking into her as the sucking lips gobbled at her aching clitoris.

“Goddddddd,” she screamed, feeling the sudden spurting from deep in her belly. She swore she felt him laugh against her pussy. She lay collapsed over the window frame, shaken by the fierceness of the orgasms he’d sucked out of her. The heat of him moved away from her cunt, and part of her wanted to cry with the loss. This did not resemble any account of ‘rape’ that she’d ever read before. What rapist gave his victim orgasms? More than her husband had in the last month, even?

Hands grabbed at her thighs, lifting her legs into the air as the seeking prick slid into her opening.


She yelped, feeling the size of his rod and the not-ready-for-something-that-big tightness of her cunt. Still, her cunt, now desperately wanton,  only needed a few strokes before it welcomed the punishing, brutal thrusts. She’d never been fucked like this before. Despite the overload of orgasms, she felt her pussy clench around his surging cock, felt the quiver growing inside, until it burst. The pounding grew harder, grinding into her as she came. Again she thought he laughed, but he didn’t speak another word as his body filled her. Through the window there were only faint grunts and the slapping sound of a man’s body against hers, and the squeaky rattle of the window frame wiggling against her back. There was no counting the number of times her cunt clenched on the intruding cock, wetting him, slicking the hot tunnel he was pounding with her juices. The fingers on her thighs tightened, pulled her back hard into the last thrusts, rubbing her back against the bottom of the window as he ground into her. Knowing he was coming was a relief, but her pussy pulsed with its own needs now.

When he pulled away the sound was wet and syrupy and loud enough to be heard through the window glass. Legs falling uselessly against the siding, she whimpered. The window opened suddenly. Hands lifted her legs, pushed her inside. The window fell with a thunk as she lay on the floor, stunned. She’d just had the best fuck of her life.  She half-crawled to the window to see who it might have been.

There was no one there. But his come was deep in her belly.




“Sure, I can fix that right up for you.”

How she wished it wasn’t dark. Wasn’t 15 fucking degrees. Wished she wasn’t the last person to leave the parking lot at work, but working hard for that promotion meant that she’d been the last to leave work for months now. And she wished the tow guy wasn’t semi-leering at her. Or maybe that was just her imagination. She was hungry, cold, tired, and now her fucking battery was deader than the undead.

“I don’t care how much–I just need it done soon, like before I freeze to death.”

“You can go on and wait there in my truck.” He gestured to the rig pulled up nose to nose with her little white Subaru.

“You’re kidding right? The step is almost up to my middle…how on earth will I get up there?” She rolled her eyes. Men and their big fucking toys.

“I’ll give you a boost. Nice and warm up there.”

True to his word, he helped her up the step that wasn’t really almost up to her waist. She sat in the roomy cab, unable to see over the opened hood of his truck into her vehicle below. The warmth, after sitting in her frigid car, made her drowsy. It was warm enough that she unzipped her coat, then slipped it off. Her light blouse and skirt had been no match for the cold outside. Now, in here she could imagine she was basking on some warm Bahama beach. She closed her eyes, just for a moment. She didn’t sleep so much as drifted, the heat from the blower easing her shivers, until finally all of her body unclenched, warm down to her bones. Gosh, she hadn’t realized just how cold it had gotten. Opening one eye reluctantly, she blinked at the temperature number on his dashboard. She closed her eye again, fast, trying to unsee the ungodly number. Good thing he’d arrived when he had; at 7° she’d have been frozen like a tv dinner by morning. Thank goodness Cilla had insisted that she carry the number of a reliable 24-hour towing company when she learned just how late she’d been working.

“I know you’re up for the promotion–you’re giving them exactly what they want,” Cilla had said, a bit ruefully. “I’d thought maybe they’d consider me, but gosh, you’re just a workaholic like Mr. R. I’ll bet they’ll vote you in at the next board meeting…why, that’s in January, isn’t it? Anyway, here’s the number, and you keep it with you now, alright?”

The slam of metal tugged her away from the memory, then the closing of his hood echoed inside the cab. The driver’s door opened and he appeared. Older than she’d thought when she was half-frozen, eyes like flint.

“Colder than a witches tit out there,” he said, peeling off his gloves and rubbing his hands in front of the blower. He made no apologies for his rough language; she felt her cheeks pink at the word “tit”.  Geeze, she’d heard men swear before. How fucking prudish was she, blushing like a girl? He rubbed a moment more, then turned to her.

“How about we discuss the cost of this here service?”

His hands flashed out so quickly that she couldn’t even form a response other than a gasp. Fingers curled into the vee of her neckline and tore the fabric as if it were gossamer. Those big, strong hands grabbed at her bra, tugging down quickly, freeing her breasts. They filled his hands as she tried to pull back. His eyes never left hers as  those fingers kneaded the tender flesh, rough and painfully, not letting her escape.


Gripping his wrists with her hands was stupid. It took him less than a second to capture both in one large hand, to reach into the open space of his cluttered cab and come up with a thick black cable tie. His grin was wolfish, hungry even, as he wrenched her arms behind her, all but thrusting her tits into his face.

“Eager, I know, they’re eager to be chomped on. Don’t worry little girl, I know you’ll take good care of me, since I missed fucking my date to come to your rescue.”

Her hands behind her, she could do nothing as he patted his crotch. She hadn’t noticed the thick bulge before. It was, frankly, rather frightening. It seemed…huge.

“You can’t…” she sputtered.

Unceremoniously, he knocked her back until she lay on her bound arms.  Grasping her left ankle, he knelt on the seat between her spread thighs, using his leg to press it against the back seat. She was stunned at how fast it happened-one moment sitting there warming up, the next bound and splayed and helpless to stop him. Ripping the belt from his jeans, he folded it, shook it in her face.

“Don’t give me no trouble, girlie, or you’ll get a lickin’ from my leather friend here. He loves a good smackdown, so you best behave.”

He looped the belt over her head, sliding the end through the buckle and drawing the end tight around her throat. Dear gods, was he going to strangle her? Her heart raced, her mouth emitted noises that sounded like a wounded creature. Her nipple tightened into hard nubs as the end of the belt scraped across it.

“Your titties sure are liking that belt. Maybe we’ll give ’em a taste. Later.”

Jerking up her skirt, those strong fingers made short work of ripping a gaping hole in the crotch of her pantyhose. Roughly he jerked aside the crotch of her panties and thrust several thick digits into her pussy. She groaned at the sudden assault. Then they were gone. In moments his pants were down to his knees, and he lowered his hips towards her.

“Please…” she whimpered.

“Oh, I’ll please you all right, and myself more.”


He was inside her cunt, one hard shove and he was buried balls deep. He let out a harsh ‘fuuuuuck’ as he lay on her; he lowered his head, dropping his mouth to her breast, sucked hard on her right tit. She didn’t know where to hurt more, the sharp tug of teeth bearing down on her tender flesh, or the enormity of his dick piercing the deepest part of her. His hips pulled up, away, before slamming down. Short and hard thrusts alternated with long, slow, filling drives. She heard the wet sucking and realized her pussy was wet, to her shock and shame.

“Fuck…your cunt is hot,” he panted, finally lifting his head from her throbbing tit. “I’m gonna cum inside of you, deep up inside of you.”

She would have moaned, would have said no, if his mouth hadn’t covered hers, fucked her tongue with his. She screamed as the last hard thrust drove his cock up against her cervix, at the shocking pain. Railed against the thought that his swimmers were being pumped right into the doorway of her womb.

He pulled out, wiping his slick cock on the crotch of her panties as he tucked them tight against her cunt.

“Gotta keep all the baby juice in there, don’t we girlie?”

He loosened the belt from her throat, slapping the end of it against her tits. She arched, crying from the hurt.

“You’ll remember this as they fade, them bruises. One nice big old hickey right there. Of course, you won’t tell nobody, because they’ll all think you were fucking the boss again in the break room. Them rumors are pretty hard to lay to rest once they get going.”

She moaned, awash in pain. Her wrists and shoulders ached from being laid on by him, by her own body weight. He tugged her up by her tits, cut the ties that had bitten into the skin of her wrists.

“Go on now, get yourself home, girlie. I’ll follow you…to make sure you’re safe and all.”

The grin scared her, as she rubbed feeling back into her lifeless hands. Leaning over her he reached to open the door. Cupping her head with one large, pussy-scented hand, he bit her lower lip.

“Til next time, girlie,” he murmured, pinching her nipple. She pulled away, scrambling across the seat, all but falling out of the truck as he sat back, stroking his semi-soft cock. In her car, which he’d left running with the heat jacked, she slammed it into reverse, and squealed across the parking lot before heading into drive, and taking off for home. His headlights followed her, stopping to watch her drive into the driveway of her little house 35 minutes from her work. Heart tripping a mad frenzy in her throat, she paused like a deer in headlights as he toot tooted when she ran up her walkway and opened her door. Once inside, she watched until he finally drove away.


The nausea came on quickly. Rolling out of bed she thought ‘not again’ before the dry heaves caught her. Third morning in a row.


“Thank you Daddy, yes. I’ll call you soon as I know.”

Cilla hung up the phone. Her sly smile went unnoticed by her co-workers, who were all still stunned by the sudden resignation of the woman everyone had thought was next in line for the vice-presidency. Pregnant, the rumormongers had whispered , in a company notorious for long, vicious hours. Too much for a woman who was pregnant, certainly not one who would be required to work all those long hours–not to mention maternity leave. No, the partners would definitely frown on that.

Too bad that I was the next to last person out of work that night, Cilla thought, and turned her car lights on before I left. Too bad her battery had gotten drained so quickly in the cold December air. But fucking lucky for her that Daddy owned a towing company and was hornier than an old goat. And didn’t she have eleven siblings to prove the strength of his baby-juice?

“Cilla?” Mr. Reingarden’s secretary appeared by her desk, breaking into her moment of happy reflection.

“Mr. R would like to see you.”

Her voice was calm, professional. Yet in a quiet aside not able to be overheard by anyone nearby she whispered, ‘looks like you’re in line for a promotion, Cil, but you didn’t hear that from me. Just didn’t want you to be shocked. Go get ’em! One for women’s lib, eh?”

Cilla’s smile was serene as she murmured back.





This started it….FullSizeRender (10)

She stood in line in the store, feet throbbing. It had been a long, long day, and this was the final errand before the end of the year. Shifting from her aching left foot to her less aching right, she looked a the long display rack that cleverly ran along the register waiting line. She wasn’t hungry, exactly, but she was running out of steam. Spying the bag of gummy worms, she reached for them. But the little bag of gummy Octopi fell free from the loop above.

What the hell, she thought, a sour gummy was a sour gummy. Tucking them against her shirt, behind the two bags of chips and the liter bottle of soda, she hoped her body heat didn’t melt them before she ate one. At long last it was her turn at the register. Paying for her New Years eve treats, she scurried from the store with her bags, and headed home.


The sun had fallen hours ago, the television was playing music in the background. Shoes off, clothing shed, she moved around her apartment naked. With the curtains drawn, and only herself to please, she’d eaten a light dinner curled on her couch with a soft fleece throw from her mom wrapped around her. The bottle of champagne that she’d bought to toast the new year sat waiting on the kitchen counter, and they were counting down in minutes now in Times Square. She had no desire to be one of those teeming in the massive crowd, but it might have been nice to cuddle someone. She ought to get a cat, since a boyfriend didn’t seem to be in the offing.

Rising from her couch, she uncorked the wine, and poured herself a generous glass. The bubbles tickled her nose as she took an appreciative sniff. No sipping until the clock wound down, she reminded herself reluctantly. Setting the glass carefully on her coffee table, she went to her bedroom to retrieve her favorite dildo. The vibe hit the exact perfect spot when it was inside of her; having an orgasm just as the old year ended and a new one began seemed like a great way to make that transition. Slipping the end of the silicone rod between her lips, she licked it, sucking on it to wet it. Glancing at the table, she grinned, before dipping the fake cock into her wine goblet. She licked at one drop, then slipped the dick along her slit. The wine tingled on her clit, on her tongue. Mmmmm, she thought as she settled back on the couch. She popped another gummy octopus into her mouth (they were surprisingly good, tart and not too sweet). She sucked and chewed it as she slipped the dildo up and down her pussy lips, teasing herself.

The last seven minutes of the old year were ticking down on the television as she inserted the shaft. She swallowed the last of the octopus, reached for another. The fantasy grew in her mind, the thing in her mouth growing gigantic as she twisted the cock into her belly, back arching. Close, she was so close to coming, the fantasy, the need building  as she stroked herself.

Two minutes, she noted, panting, as she looked at the clock. What the hell, she could toast out the old year and  toast in the new. She sipped the champagne, murmuring at the taste of the fine wine mingling with the tart sweetness from the candy. Her other hand slowed, teasing her clit with the shuddering toy.

Her head fell back as the clock continued to tick down. Gulping the wine, such an abuse of fine wine, her father would have said, she tossed another candy in her mouth. Chewing and sucking, she watched the enormous ball begin its descent to Times Square, the camera panning the frantically joyful faces peering up and counting down.



She stroked harder, teeth grinding on the candy, her pussy starting to clench.




She was almost there, almost there, her clit cramping up, her insides clamping around the thick dildo buried there.




At the stroke of midnight her pussy convulsed, a jet of come shooting from her, leaving her gasping, drained, on the couch. Her body was covered in a fine sweat, and her hand trembled as she reached for the wineglass.

Sip, she told herself, her pussy still throbbing. She sipped. The camera panned to the celebrities, close ups on faces, a blur of images as the crowded streets of New York cheered in the new year. Her pussy had cheered too. Wetly. Setting down the wine glass carefully, she tugged the fleece blanket around herself.

Stroking herself with both hands, she could feel the wet, the steady oozing of fluid. Amazed at herself, she lifted wet fingers to her face, sniffing. Wow. She had never come like that before. She touched her fingertips together, smiling at the sticky thick wet that glued them together. Wasn’t come a strange substance, she mused. Not thick like snot, but similar in some ways. With a shake of her head at her crazy thoughts, she reached for her wine, came up with the bag of candy instead. One left. Snagging it in her sticky fingers, she gave a half-shrug. What the hell, tomorrow she’d worry about eating better. It was new years, after all, and one was supposed to have some sort of excess. She licked the sugar from her fingers, sugar and come, smiling.

She fell asleep before she could eat the candy.


She awoke, coming hard.

What the…she wondered, as her body arched in ecstasy. Something was filling her, stuffing her. Something was probing at her anus, too. She tried to move, but was immobilized. Her wrists, held up over her head, her tits thrust upward, nipples hugely erect. She could feel them throbbing with an ache that was foreign to her.

“What…” she started to speak, but something filled her mouth. It was sweet, yet tart. Her mouth was stretched as the thing twisted down her throat, gagging her. She wanted to bite, but just as she started to, the thing probing her ass rammed its way inside her. Rather than biting, her mouth opened still wider, attempting to scream. Only a muffled sort of grunting came through her nostrils as she fought for breath, for a way through the pain. Her lower body was stretched beyond anything she had ever felt before. Her rectum throbbed, but somehow that transitioned to a deep pleasure at her clit. She came again, feeling herself grow limp as fluids rushed from her. The fucking didn’t stop, seemed to intensify. Her tits were squeezed, her nipples starting to ooze fluid. How was that even possible, one corner of her mind asked. The thing in her mouth withdrew, the tip of it touring her mouth, rubbing along teeth and tongue, tracing the inner flesh of her cheeks. Slipping from her mouth, it outlined her lips, ran along each ear, making her quiver.  A low moan came from her at that seductive touch. She couldn’t move, could barely do anything other than come, it seemed.

As if thought created deed, her body arched again, as her pussy convulsed. It was erotic pain, coming so hard, so often. The taking of her pussy and ass, the squeezing of her tits–her whole being was being assaulted and she couldn’t seem to care. Again she felt the gushing of liquid from tits and pussy, liquid that didn’t seem to make her wet. Was it…whatever it was, drinking her fluids? Would it drink her to death? Panic made her struggle, a pointless endeavor. The fucking grew to a frenetic pace, her body drew taut as the most enormous orgasm of all was ripped from her. She did scream, then. As the echo of her scream faded, the room went dark.


She woke on the floor between the coffee table and the couch, wrapped in the fleece. Her wine goblet had tipped over, but thankfully she’d consumed that before it made a mess. The sun filtered in around her curtains, sliding across the room until one beam fell upon her outstretched palm. It was that warmth that had woken her, she supposed. But man, she was tired, and thirsty as hell.

Untangling herself from the covers, she made her way to the kitchen, and drank a glass of water, and a second. She’d heard that doing that after drinking could get you re-drunk, but what the hell. She was ready for the new year now, a sudden surge of energy rippling through her. She felt…different, somehow. As if a thousand cares had been sucked away, and hope rushed in to fill her back up.

Striding into the living room, she grabbed up the fleece, the empty glass, and the bag of candy with one lone octopus within. She didn’t notice the blue eye blink. She put the bag on the counter for later as the doorbell rang.

She didn’t bother to look through the peephole, just made sure her important bits were covered before she opened it a crack. It was her neighbor, Brian or Bryce or somesuch.



“uhm…this is…awkward…kind of…”

He was cute in his sudden embarrassment.  She just looked at him. He seemed to notice, of a sudden, her state of dress. Or lack thereof.

“Nice blanket.” He grinned.

She smiled. A month ago she would have died of the embarrassment. Hell, a day ago she might have.


“I was wondering…ah…if you’re alone for the holiday, perhaps you’d like to come over for breakfast?”

Without hesitation she grabbed the apartment key from the table next to the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“That sounds lovely. I hope I’m dressed appropriately for the occasion.”

His appreciative “oh hell yeah” was all the reply she needed. Slipping her hand into his, she gave it a squeeze. Without another word,they stepped into his apartment.

In the little crinkled bag on the counter of her kitchen the little octopus smiled, and vanished.