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….”

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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.”

 

 

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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.

 

 

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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.

Dammit!

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.

“Aaaah!”

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.

 

 

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Stalled

“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.

“Oh…no…ouch…”

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.

Indeed.”

 

 

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Candy

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.

15

14

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

9

8

7

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

3

2

1

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.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“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.

“Thanks.”

“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.

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House Call

“I don’t have a lot of time.”

The sibilant whisper against her ear blew a soft puff of hot breath against her skin. Gooseflesh pebbled across her neck. Her other ear, pressed against the cold wall, heard nothing but the noises of the house as it settled for the night. Her breasts pressed against the chill surface, nipples pearling into tight buds after the warmth of her bed.

Her hair was pulled into a taut ponytail, held by his hand, controlling her head with the tight grasp. She inhaled sharply as his free hand pressed into the split of her ass, pressing against that dark, private rosebud. If she could have shaken her head no she would have. The whine she would have whimpered was sealed behind the duct tape covering her mouth.

“He’ll be home soon, won’t he? Cuddling close to you in your bed, his arms wrapping around you, his cock slipping between your pale thighs. He’ll fuck you, perhaps, before he falls asleep. His mouth will suckle on your tits, his hands will grasp your hips as he slides in and out of your eager hole. I suspect you’ll be less eager for this…”

His voice trailed away as the sound of a zipper unzipping came to her. There was the faintest of snicks as the snap was undone, and the sound of fabric sliding down skin, a subtle sound for all its threatening promise. The heat of a cock pressed into that tight crevasse, pressed harder at her bumhole. The fist holding her hair tightened as the shaft began to enter her.

“It’ll be easier if you don’t fight. We both know you love it up the ass, don’t we? And when he spoons you tonight, perhaps some of my gift will seep out of your ass, and paint his thighs. Take it, take it deep…”

He grunted as his cock pierced her entry, as the tight grip of her anus parted to allow him entry.

He filled her, hurt her. The full heat of him pressed behind her back and inside her warmed her; the throb from her rectum kept pace with the her heartbeat. A single tear slid down,  down her cheek and then the wall where she was pressed tightly against it. Her breath came in a rasping grunt through her nose, barely heard over his thrustings. His hand grabbed her hair even tighter, her eyes widening, tearing at the pull. She knew his eruption was near. But for those few noises, the house was silent.

“My gift…” he panted quietly in her ear. She shivered, knowing he was close.

He withdrew, his cock thick and heavy against her ass. Pausing a moment he slid between her thighs. She struggled then, knowing what his ‘gift’ was.  Before she could even attempt to wriggle free, he was once again inside of her, deep in her belly. She swore she could feel the sudden pulsing jets of his come filling her womb with his seed. She was ovulating, dammit! She shuddered as he released her hair, leaning numbly against the wall. He guided her across the room to the bed by her hair, bracing a pillow under her hips. A bulbous plug pressed against her, into her. The tape was pulled gently from her mouth.
“Tell him you fell asleep masturbating,” he whispered, his hand pinching one plump nipple as she lay in a semi-stupor. “Then morning sex. He’ll be a father –and you’ll be a lovely mommy–by autumn.” He kissed her on her mouth, the gentle touch at odds with his assault on her ass.

He slipped away, though she didn’t hear his footsteps in the house. The room was illuminated a few minutes later by the slash of light against the wall and ceiling. Her husband was home from work. Yet she knew she’d never tell him about the ‘housecall’ from her OB/GYN.

 

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Anything (A Tale in Three Parts) Ending

previous chapter here.

There were no names, their faces became blurred. Cum in her eyes stung, and no way to get it out other than crying and blinking furiously.

“Whore hates cum in her face,” said the one who’d just finished her. Her lips ached from the gag holding her mouth agape. For a moment there was silence, then laughter.

“Good to know…I’ll be sure to add to her discomfort!”

The bed creaked as a body moved behind her. Her ass was squeezed, the round globes pulled apart.

“Your girl has a nice chubby ass. Got some good grip here.”

Clearing his throat, there was the distinct sound of hawking, and the sudden hot slap of wet on her ass.

“That’s all the lube you get, my little anal whore.” The voice was husky as he leaned over her hip. She felt his cock searching her slit, slipping through the wad of saliva until it pressed against her already sore asshole. His hand snaked over her side, grabbing her tit, squishing it between his fingers.

“Nice tits, too.”

The bed squealed as his weight shifted. She squealed as his huge shaft pushed into her. There was no “no” and no way to back out now. Her ass screamed in protest as he pressed onward-she wondered how fucking big it was. It felt like he was inserting an arm into her. Her clit pulsed, her cunt twitched despite the pain in her bottom. She couldn’t ask permission to cum, her mouth opened this way. Eyes closed, she let the sensations overtake her. The orgasm shuddered through her. A shadow fell across her face. Eyes parting slightly, she had but a moment to register that another cock was right in front of her.

The cage holding her lips apart wasn’t like a voluntary blow job. It’s sole purpose was to use her mouth as another fuck hole. Hands grabbed the headboard as his body levered over her face, the dangling appendage heading for the opening. His hips churned as the cock filled her, as he smash-banged his crotch against her nose. Choking, gagging, shaking her head, she could do nothing to stop the surging shaft. The pain in her ass tugged her attention for a moment as she was filled, stretched to the point of absurdity. When he started to fuck her she yelped, but the cock in her face silenced her.

“Ready!”

The cheerful sound nearly escaped her, but for the presence of yet another cock, pressing into her cunt. As he slid into her wet hole, she felt fuller than she ever had before. Gagging, throbbing, cumming, she felt, not a person, but a thing, a warm wet series of holes to be fucked.

*******************************

She faded in and out of consciousness. He must have had a lot of friends, or friends on drugs, because there was never a moment when a cock wasn’t pounding some part of her. If there was a lull, it was filled with beating. Hands slapping her tits, her thighs, her ass, her face or belly. Grunts and spurts and yells and smacking noises filled the room. The bed shook, her body trembled. She stank of semen, piss, the unending drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. She hurt everywhere…and yet she felt more alive than she had in years. The floaty sensation surprised her–she’d never thought ‘subspace’ was a real thing. The bed shifted as another cock slid into her softened bottom. She wasn’t conscious when he filled her ass with semen.

******************************

Waking slowly, she felt the weight of a man behind her. His hand was cupping her breast, his leg thrown over hers. The curtain moved slowly in the wind. Terribly disoriented, she couldn’t, for a moment, remember where she was. Trying to move away, she moaned at the shocking pain. Everything hurt. His hand tightened, his arm drawing her closer.

“Need to pee,” she whimpered.

“Go.” His voice was gruff. The hands holding her fell away. Carefully she shifted off the bed, stifling the moan that was born when she stood upright and tried to walk. Gods her asshole hurt! The demands of her bladder made her shuffle quickly across the room. Thankfully she remembered where the bathroom was. Last time she’d asked he’d made her crawl there, not an easy task when one had the urgent need to go. Stepping onto the cool tile was nearly her undoing. What was it about that sudden sharp slap of cold that made ones bladder want to release right then?

Washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. By the tiny glow of the night-light, she could still see the bruises blooming on her breasts. Hand prints and lines and the polka-dotting of bites painted the pale flesh with hues of red and purple and blue. Running her  hands over her skin, she sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers grazed the sensitive tips. Pain and pleasure prickled. Her pussy had been wet when she’d wiped–and most of it wasn’t urine. What a fucking perverse creature you are, she muttered at her reflection. Quickly moving to the bed, she paused a moment looking at him. Mean, yes. He was the cruelest man she’d ever met. But dear gods he was good-looking, sexy as fuck. As fuck. That made her smile.

“Get in the fucking bed and stop grinning at me you sick fuck.” His voice sounded both terse and amused. She had no idea how he did that. Into the bed she all but leapt, snuggling up to him.

“Your fucking ass is cold! Geezuz!!”

He pushed her away, rolling her onto her belly. She felt him bending over her.

“Lucky for you I know how to fix that.”

He whispered the threat in her ear, the warm breath teasing the curved shell. Hands battered at her sore flesh, making her whimper and moan and writhe. She felt the sting, then the pain, the fire as he smacked her all over her bottom. Rolling her onto her back, he continued the smacking over her tits, her belly, before pulling her legs open and wide.

“Legs up on my shoulders. You keep them there or else.”

His hands battered at her pussy next, slaps alternated with punches. Her clit screamed, her lips swelled. Finally he grabbed her thigh and drove his hips forward, impaling her aching cunt with his swollen cock. He took her hard, fucking her with a force that moved her up and up the bed, until her head was banging the headboard, and still he pummeled her. Her pussy took it and begged for it never to stop, even as it hurt.

He came then, his breath gasping as he spurted deep in her belly. With a last groan, he fell atop her, seemingly asleep instantly.

When she woke again, it was morning, and he was gone. There was no note, no orders to follow. Easing out of bed, she paused, looking at her image in the mirror over his dresser. She was…purple. Black and blue. Fat bruises, skinny bruises. Her hair was a tangled rat’s nest and there was an enormous deep blue mark on her hip. Turning, she peered over her shoulder at the damage to her backside. It was as equally marked as her front.

“Pretty.”

Her eyes rose to his in the mirror. He’d come into the room quietly, standing nearly in front of her.

“You take marks well.”

His finger poked at a dark spot on her left tit. She winced, but held still. He smiled, a look she’d already learned was dangerous in him. Stepping closer, he pressed the mark harder. She moaned. Fingers pinched over the mark. Her head fell back, her mouth open and panting.

“Look at me. I want to see you hurting.”

Short gasps of breath, then her eyes opened. He watched her hungrily, greedy for her pain. He frightened her even as he intrigued. An inadvertant yelp escaped when his free hand pinched her nipple. She swore she could feel the bruise deepening, but it was hard to say which pain was the worst of the two.

“Please…” she gasped out at last, all but falling to the floor. He held on, bending into her collapse, still pinching.

“Oh GAWD,” she moaned, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Pretty,” he said again as he released her and turned away. He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ll take you home soon. Clean your skanky ass.”

Home? Already? She felt deflated by that, though the very thought of intercourse made her want to puke. Her pussy and ass were so sore that she’d be walking funny for a week. With a little frown, she turned and moved to the bathroom.

************************

I know I said this was a tale in 3 parts, but I really need one more to finish this naughty tale. Thanks for waiting so long for part 3… ~nilla~

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Bent

His hand is in her hair, pulling her face toward the microwave. She smells the fusty remnants of the mac ‘n cheese she heated at lunch, nose crinkles in reaction. Her eyes well with tears as his fingers draw into a fist, as her head is forced down until her nose is all but pushing into the counter. He slaps the back of her head, speaks a terse word.

“Stay.”

The quiver starts in her belly, shivers out her shoulders, her knees quake. A foot lodges between her ankles, kicking them apart, as hands lift her skirt, baring her pantiless ass. Those fingers that had torn into her hair, now dig into the soft skin of her buttocks, red marks left on white flesh.

The globes of her bottom are tugged roughly apart, exposing the long, dark exclamation point which ends at the round rosy pucker of her anus. He pokes there, one finger sinking knuckle deep. Her mouth opens in a silent O of shock, lips parting, scraping against the unwashed counter. The sharp tang of cheddar against her bottom lip tugs her attention away from his hands, from the finger inserted to the second knuckle now, screwing itself into her butthole. The finger withdraws. Her anus is not left alone for long- cold metal pierces the tight sphincter.

He laughs as the tight ring grips whatever he’s stuck up her ass.

“You look fucking stupid with the whisk handle up your shitter,” he says cruelly. Her pussy begins to wet. He pulls it out, pushes it back inside, fucking her with the tool. Tiring of the game, he shoves it back inside. She hears him rummaging through her tool drawer.

The sharp, stinging slap against her ass makes her rise to her tiptoes, squealing. Her head stays against the counter.

“Hurt?” He speaks conversationally, but she cannot reply, her breath lodged deep in her throbbing butt cheek. Her head nods once, sharply. He follows the first slap with a second, harder than the first. It nearly overlaps the first one.

“Pancake flipper…sure making a mess out of your ass.” He laughs again, as his cool hand cups her right cheek.

“Fucking hot…I could cook a pancake on your skin, slut.”

Her breath is a hard gasp, her fingers drawn into tight fists as she manages the pain. He doesn’t stop until her entire ass is red, fiery with the precision of his strikes. His hand digs in the drawer again.

This slap is different, thuddier, noisier.

“Nah, too easy.”

The thunk of a wooden spoon being thrown into the sink startled her. More noise, some grunts as he weighs his options. She can breathe normally again, coping with the sensation of the tool in her bottom, the steady throb from her aching bum. The squeak slips from her as he slaps her ass with something flexible, cool and rubbery.

Spatula, she thinks to herself. That won’t be too bad.

His hands belay the thought immediately. The strikes are hard and fast, landing on already sensitive skin. Her bottom squirms, seeking to avoid the blows, avoiding him. His hand grabs the wire whisk sticking out of her asshole, lifting it, stopping all movements, as his other hand works over the hot aching flesh. The sound from her now is a soft and steady uhnnnnnn….uhnnnnnn.

When it ends, she doesn’t sense it for a moment. The spatula is thrown into the sink with the spoon, then the whisk is tugged from her butt. He drops it onto the floor.

“You’ll clean that later.”

Again she nods once, tersely. The tang of shit reaches her nostrils. Gross. But hot, very hot. Her pussy drips.

His hands lift her hips, curling her spine, raising her cunt. The tip of his cock brushes against the swollen, damp folds, before slipping inside.

“Like a hot ass against my belly,” he growls, fingers gouging into her hips as he fucks hard. Her butt hurts from his spanking, but his belly is cool against her burning flesh. Despite the pain, or because of it, her hips rock back, begging for more as her head remains bent over the counter.

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She Knew

for Will…for the idea…

He watched her walk down the hallway. He  was at work, he had self-control, he wasn’t a kid– he was 45 years old for fuck sake. Yet she did that thing, that thing that girls forever were doing, ever since grade school, high school, college.

The hair flip.

The long silky mass would wave over her shoulder as her arm lifted. As her arm lifted, her blouse — or tee-shirt or tank top or bathing suit — would tighten over her tits. NO! Would stretch across her breasts, dammit.

Can’t think of them as tits. Can’t. Can’t. Think of the Fucking French Revolution…viva la guillotine…

His cock half rose, softened at the thought of rolling heads, then dammit. Just fucking dammit. She did it.

The hair flip.

The sudden lift and swell of tit against soft fabric.

Fabric straining at the buttons.

NO..nononono…not…not…

The rise of nipples against that fabric, the once-hidden nubbin pressing hard against the crush of cotton, undeniable in its thrusting need to provoke him.

He held the nipple accountable. The sudden surge in his pants, the unbearable, uncomfortable rise of his own flesh in response almost, nearly, made him moan aloud. He couldn’t turn away, frozen as he was with his rock hard cock pressed against a poly-cotton blend. He felt the unwanted ooze as his randy shaft mouthed its own ‘come on baby’ and prayed the wetness didn’t soak through his boxers.

He watched her walk towards him.

He’d kept his eyes averted, of course. Accidental tit-glance happened all the time. She likely didn’t even fully know what that hair flip did to him, to any sentient man. He moved carefully, like a man on Death Row, prolonging the agony of bouncing breasts as they passed.

The tease of her fragrance came from no bottle. It rose up and enfolded him as they passed a fingers breadth apart. There was no cologne on earth that could compete with that from the silky soft folds between her thighs.  The scent  beguiled, and befuddled him. His Adam’s apple bobbed hard down, up, his cock-head twitched, down, up as he swallowed a wad of pure lust.

He glanced over his shoulder, unable to stop the sigh of regret and relief. Her ass was a soft round invitation. Her skirt hem fluttered as she moved away. By damn he was like a horny, undisciplined teenager. He shook his head with regret. Unable to act on the need to leap on her, to thrust his throbbing shaft deep between the cleft of her ass, to dig his fingers into her hips, to grind his way into the hot wet center of her. Unable to tangle his finger in that mane of wantonness, to draw her back into a bow and thrust his arrow deep, then deeper still, until his seed pumped its way into her belly. Civility ruled.

A movement caught his eye as he stepped into the elevator, as he turned to push the button for the 5th floor. She had stopped, turned, cocked her head, and smiled.

Looking at his crotch.

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