Published Sex Stories

LISA

francis on Teen Stories

LISA

My wife had recently left me, running off with the husband of one of the couples that made up our circle of friends.  It was obvious that it was the final event in a 12-year marriage.  So, I decided to clear out all her possessions and her jungle of house plants; either to the garage or for the dustbin.  Then I could decorate the house to my taste - not hers.

The chap she ran off with had a seventeen year old daughter - Lisa - who used to take my two dogs for walks in the surrounding fields of the village that we lived in.  On this particular afternoon I was sorting through the cupboards and draws to de-clutter the house.  When Lisa returned with the dogs that afternoon, her bright red hair was parted down the middle and back into tw
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o plaits and  she was wearing a pair of jeans with a white string strapped T-shirt.

It was a warm day and Lisa was perspiring and looked hot.  I asked her if she wanted a cold drink, which she accepted.  When I returned from the kitchen, she had found some photo’s in the pile of rejects I had made.  Some of them were of friends, including some with her father in them.  His leaving had badly upset her and she had started to cry.  I was kneeling next to her, with her drink - which I now placed on a nearby table.  She asked me why he had left, and I told her that it was probably lust, love or boredom in a marriage.  She looked at me and started crying harder.  I reached for some tissues and wiped her eyes.

As I did so, she lent forward and we kissed.  It was obviously not the right thing to do, but it had been a long sexless time for me and how can you resist a horny young teenage girl - especially a redhead?  Her tongue searched out mine, as we fell full length onto the carpet.  As we continued to kiss, my hand reached up to her breasts.  Under her t-shirt she was braless.  Her breasts were firm and pert, I started to pull her t- shirt out of her jeans, and we rolled on the floor to facilitate its removal, Lisa raised her arms and it was soon over her head and thrown onto the floor.  I pulled my polo shirt off, and started to undo her jeans, Lisa was now laughing and giggling.  She lent back and I took off her canvas deck shoes and then gripped the bottom of her jeans pulling them down her slim white legs.  I lent towards her, slowly kissing my way up her legs.  Lisa parted them as I reached her thighs.  I kissed the inside of her thighs and stroked her though her white cotton briefs, which were becoming damp, as the cleft of her vulva started to open - giving of the sweet, fresh smell of an aroused woman.  She was starting to moan with pleasure.  I continued to stroke her cunt though the cotton material, as I kissed my way up her flat belly and onwards to her breasts.  As I did so I pulled my shorts off and my erect cock brushed against her knickers.

I took one of her nipples into my mouth, gently putting pressure on them with my lips, and teasing the rosy tips with my tongue.  The other tit, I squeezed and stroked with my left hand.  My right hand eased its way inside the waistband of Lisa’s briefs and carefully prised her vaginal cleft open.  I introduced first one finger and then a second, then slowly pushed them in and out of her.  As I was finger fucking her Lisa reached down and pulled her knickers over her bottom and onto her thighs, exposing her beautiful golden red pubes and pushed her briefs the rest of the way down her legs, using her foot hooked into them.  I increased the speed of the thrusts, and put more pressure on the front wall of her vaginal passage.  Lisa’s moans became noisier, and shouting that she was cumming; she stiffened and pushed herself onto my fingers.

 Her hand now reached for my prick and gripping it, rubbing it up and down.  I was soon near to cumming, so I released myself from her pleasurable grip and moved so I could probe her with my tongue.  I ran my tongue around first one cunt lip and then the other, repeating this as Lisa said how good it was.  I probed her cunt and brushed the hood of her clitoris, then her little love bud which was just exposed.  Lisa was now having a series of increasingly powerful orgasms, until with a final shout she came noisily. and relaxed back onto the floor.

She started wanking me again, and said that she wanted to feel me inside her.  She asked if I had any condoms,  I said I did but they were upstairs.  We rapidly went up to my bedroom and Lisa jumped on the bed.  I opened the bedside draw and pulled out some condoms, throwing them on to the bed.  Then I joined her on the bed.

Lisa then pushed me onto my back and reached for my cock, and again started to pump her hand up and down the shaft.  Very soon as it was at its full length and she eased the glans into her mouth, running her tongue around it and up and down the shaft, as her moving hand allowed. I told her I was about to cum, so she took her mouth away and with a grin picked up a condom, opened it and rolled it down my penis.  She then straddled me and guided my erection into her quim.  As she pushed down onto my prick, she exclaimed that, “Fucking hell that’s good.”  

She pushed her self up and down my cock and soon stared to cum.  I was now becoming to feel the rising tide of an orgasm, so began to thrust into Lisa, matching her motion, until my balls started to tighten and I pumped into her with increasing speed until with a final thrust I shot spurt after spurt of spunk into her.  As I came Lisa let out a loud scream and came as well, then moved forwards and kissed me.

Sliding out of her we rolled onto our sides.  Stroking and kissing each other I again started to work on her breasts with both hands and mouth.  Lisa said that none of her boyfriends had gone down on her and she said that from now on they would have to or get the push if they did not like licking pussy, also they would have to spend more time  working on her body and cunt before starting fucking her.
 
Lisa noticed I was erect again, and reached for a condom.  Lisa said no, she wanted to feel me bare inside her.  After rolling it onto me, she knelt on the bed and said she wanted to be fucked from behind this time.  Griping her hips, I pushed into her.  Lisa pushed back and lowered her face onto the bed and arched her back.  I took hold of her red plaits in one hand and reached around her so as to rub her clit.  This soon had her cumming, and I pulled on her plaits, rising her head.  I was again felling my climax starting, so I moved so my hands were on her waist.  I thrust quicker and harder, and pulled out,  spurting  four  jets of come over her fiery red pussy hair.

Lisa cuddled up.  I reached down and gently stroked her pubic area.  Soon, she reached out for my cock and wanked it.  She then moved and took me into her mouth, giving a splendid blow job.  I reached for her cunt and finger fucked her again.  We soon both came.  Lisa then said that she could do with that drink I had fetched her,  as she was much sweatier now than after the dog walking.  So we went down stairs, had some drinks.  I suggested she have a shower before going home in case her Mum could smell cum and love juice on her.  She did and I joined her, where we fucked again.  When she left she was no longer tearful and had a big grin on her face.

That autumn Lisa was to go to college, so I ended up as what is now called a ‘fuck buddy’ for the spring and summer, rather than for her find a young boyfriend until college.  We also fucked on her visits and holidays till she graduated, and started working.       

 

The Debate Team Part 2

Dafunks on Sex Stories

The Debate Team Part Two

-this is the continuation of The Debate Team... hope you like it.

*** 

As soon as Cherry got out of the room, she sighed in relief. She began to wipe the cum off her face with her bare hands and looked at them. For some reason, she didn’t find it disgusting. But she was confused.

God, what happened back there?
It was as if she was in a different world now, different from that surreal world she was in just a few seconds ago. She looked up and down the corridor. Thank God nobody’s around. She saw the room in front of her,
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Rica’s and Joanna’s room, and realized that it was slightly open. She knocked.
Tap tap tap.

“Rica? Joanna?”

“I’m here!”, said Joanna.

Joanna is the youngest member of the team. Just a freshman, she was definitely a rising star in the Debate community. A standout in high school debating, great things were expected of her and she immediately proved her worth by breaking into the line up of a very crowded Ateneo pool. She was half Chinese and the only person in the team who was shorter than Cherry. She was very pretty in a Chinese way although her body is definitely still not developed. She was actually only 17 years old and has no other life other than school and debating. Cherry liked her. In fact everybody liked her. She was bubbly, she was sweet and she seemed sincere in her greetings.

Cherry entered and saw Joanna brushing her hair by the mirror in the middle of the room. She ran past her and went straight to the comfort room, saying

“I need to use your comfort room.”

Inside the CR, she began to wash her hands and as she looked in the mirror. She was shocked to see the extent of what just transpired. Nearly half her face was glistening with cum with some drops on her hair.

Oh my god…. She kept saying to herself. She tried to spit out what got into her mouth but most of it was already gone, either inadvertently swallowed or absorbed by the mouth. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she saw. It was the most amazing thing she has ever seen and that’s saying a lot considering she’s been to Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon just that past summer. She shook off the thoughts in her mind and focused at the task at hand. She washed her face again and again until there was no more trace of any cum left. She wiped her face with a towel and got out.

“Hi Cher! How come you’re still here?”, asked Joanna.

Cherry knew she had to think quickly. If she tells her that she got back to her room, it might get back to Paul that she was in the room when he did his thing. Her excuse must not be far

from the truth.
“Oh I was going back to my room to get my breakfast stub but when I got the key from my back pocket, it was there. That’s when I saw that this was open so…”
“Ah okay. Is Rica downstairs already?”
“Yeah, everyone is. Except you and Paul…I think”
Rica finished fixing herself. She looked cute. She knew that and she knew that she has to make a good impression with the international debate community. Who knows? Maybe some boy will notice her.
“Let’s go?”
“Yup… come on”, Cherry smiled. They walked out of the room and got to the elevator. A few seconds after pressing down, it opened, surprisingly empty.
“I guess everybody’s downstairs already,” Cherry quipped.
They got in. Just as it was about to close, a hand stopped it and it opened again.
“Paul! Good morning!,” Joanna excitedly said.
“Good morning Joanna Banana!,” Paul said as he entered the elevator. He gave her a warm smile. He looked at Cherry and said, “Hey how come you’re still here? I thought you left like twenty minutes ago?”
Cherry didn’t answer. There was a mixture of embarrassment and seething annoyance that she felt towards Paul. Even after what happened, she didn’t like Paul. The dick was different from the dick owner. As far as she was concerned, they were two completely different entities and as much as she liked the former, she hated the latter just as much. She just stared ahead.
Joanna answered for her. “She went back to get her breakfast stub. But before she got to her room, she found it in her pocket.”

Thank God she told her that story! Cherry thought. She congratulated herself for a job well done.
“Ah okay.” He pressed G for Ground Floor.
“Are you swimming in the pool later this afternoon?,” Joanna asked, hopefully.
“Oh ahhh… probably not. I didn’t bring my swimming trunks,” Paul lamented.
Cherry’s mind began to wander. She thought of Paul by the pool wearing tight swimming trunks. She could just imagine how that monster cock of his would definitely protrude at such a flimsy material. What a sight to behold!
“Earth to Cherry!” Paul said to her. Cherry snapped back to reality and realized that they were already on the ground floor and that the two were already outside the elevator waiting for her.
“What are you thinking about anyway?” Joanna laughed.
“You look like you saw a snake or something!” Paul said. He then walked off towards the buffet.

7:00 am, Dining Hall. Ateneo table,
Paul comes up to the table. “Good morning!”
Rica smiled at her, “Good morning Paul!, Here take this seat, it’s unoccupied” she motioned to the seat beside her.
“Thanks Rica. Wow you saved me a seat!” Paul smiled and sat down.
“In your dreams!” Rica said and elbowing him playfully in the process.
“Good morning dude.”, Alex said. “How’s your roommate?”
“I don’t know… she’s right behind me with Joanna”, he answered and yawned.
Cherry and Joanna arrive and they take the seats beside Rica as well.
Paul took this as his cue and stood up. “I’ll get some breakfast”
The Breakfast was not exactly part of the debate tournament. It was more of a custom where each school participating show their appreciation for the hosts and their commitment to the spirit of friendly competition. It was also a way for friends from different countries and schools to meet and catch up. Each school will be acknowledged by the hosts and in response, the team would stand up and acknowledge the host.
Back in the table, everybody was excited about the upcoming tournament.
“Guys, let’s focus on the task at hand. We have a really good chance this year,” Alex said.
“I agree, I think we’ll do well.” His partner Marvin said.
“Easy for you to say. You have the best teammate,” Shelly said. She was the 5th best Debater in the team and the anchor of Team C. Shelly was more on the voluptuous side. She had a pretty face and could’ve been sexy if only she could control her eating habits. This is in stark contrast to her partner, Kristine, who was very slim and barely registered in the triple digits in the weighing scale.
“So what are you saying? You’re disappointed with having me as a teammate?” Kristine, her teammate, countered.
“That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying..”
“Yeah yeah yeah… I can say the same about you anyway.” The best of friends, theirs was a love-hate relationship.
“The British and Australian teams are always good. Especially that girl from  Monash A. If she hits her stride in this tournament, and there’s no reason for her not to, there’s no stopping her., “Rica said nodding towards the girl at the buffet table getting some bread.

The girl was Svetlana Poriskova, the number one debater in the world in all the formats she participated in. She has been number one, two years running and was a success story in her own right. She was a British citizen yet her father was Russian and her mother was German. Now she’s debating for an Australian University.

She was a towering figure in the Debate community, figuratively and literally. She stood 6’2 inches at the age of 21, taller than any guy participating. She had a lanky frame and her height was accentuated by her statuesque stance and could pass as one of those slim supermodels. Her pale angelic face was hidden behind her thick dark-rimmed glasses which framed her almond colored eyes. She had dirty blonde hair which was always tied up at the back, with a few curls falling from each side. She had no suitors, the men intimidated by her height but even more so by her intellect. The smart guys were too small and the tall guys were not smart enough.
Paul looked at her. She seems nice.

“Anyway, we’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Alex said.
“So who’s swimming with me later?” Joanna asked.
“I’ll swim with you,” Rica said. “How about you Paul?”
“I already told Joanna I can’t because I didn’t bring any trunks”, Paul said. He lamented this fact even more now that Rica said that she’ll be swimming.
“Trunks?? From what era have you come from?”
Everybody laughed.
Nobody wears trunks you idiot! Yuck! You know what? I’m going shopping later, we’ll buy you board shorts.”, Rica said.
“Okay!”, As long as I’m with you, Paul thought.
“How about you Cher? You coming?” Rica turned to Cherry.
“Ah no. I need o catch some more zs. I wasn’t able to sleep well last night. Paul snores like a broken muffler,” Cherry said.
“Sorry I was tired. That’s how I sleep, deal with it”
“Well you better fix that. I want to be able to sleep at night. I need my beauty rest”
“Beauty and the Beast”, Paul muttered under his breath which Rica heard and laughed at.
“What did you say?”, Cherry heard it as well.
“Nothing I said you’re the best!”, Paul said with a fake smile.
“Guys remember, the Opening Ceremonies is at 7:15 pm. Make sure that you don’t get left by the bus to NUS. O, We’re about to be called.” Alex said, halting another word war.
“Ateneo de Manila University, headed by their President, Alexander Reyes.”, the announcer said.
They all stood up and waved and smiled while the rest of the participants applauded.

10:00 am. Hotel Lobby.

Rica was waiting for Paul in the Lobby. After breakfast, Paul said that he had to go up to his room to fix something.

Rica liked Paul in some ways. While he was definitely not of her social class, he had a lot of things to offer. Paul was sweet and unassuming. Unlike all the blowhards she’s dated in the past, Paul was a real person. She always found him interesting. He was a very smart guy but he never pretended to be smarter than he actually was. He didn’t have any money but seems to get everything that he needs and never seemed needy. He was a real guy. Interested in sports, read that part first in the newspaper and not the society pages. He was funny, better yet, he was corny. Which she liked because she was too.

But now she was getting antsy. What’s taking him so long?

The elevator opened and out came Paul. Paul was wearing denim shorts, an Ateneo shirt, and some walking shoes. Rica took note of that. Every guy she met tried to impress her.

They’d be like going to a mall and all the guys in her group would be totally made up, obviously trying to impress her. She’d pas through a door and they’d scamper to open it for her. On simple movie gimmicks, the guy would always wear long sleeves, hair all gelled up. Paul was different. Paul would wear what he wanted. And what he wanted was comfort.
“Sorry I took so long”, Paul said, looking confused.
“It’s okay, was there a problem?” Rica asked.
Paul was in fact confused about something. The reason he went back to the room was to clean up the mess he made under the table when he came a few hours ago. He forgot about it when he went down for breakfast and only remembered it after. He went back to the room immediately but he was surprised to see that there was very little cum on the wall or the carpet. He knew he came a lot but can’t seem to find it.
“Ah nothing.” He let it go. “So are we shopping or what?”
“Yup”
“Where are we going anyway?”
“Just come with me. We’ll buy you board shorts and I’ll buy some stuff too.”
“Okay, I’ll just follow you wherever you go.” He opened the door for her. A taxi was already waiting outside and Rica got in the back. Paul made sure that Rica went in first. As Rica went in, he again took a glance at her ample butt, now covered with tight white pants. Rica sort of knew what was happening and took a bit longer to settle in. Finally, a guy who was not too much of a gentleman, she thought.

Paul got in.

“Orchard Road please” Rica said.

Room 507
As soon as she saw Paul leave with Rica, Cherry went back up to her room. She had no intention to sleep as a matter of fact. She was so horny all morning that her panties were practically drenched. When she got in, she immediately took off her clothes and immediately touched her pussy. Oh shit!

She thought. “OOHHH” Finally, some relief. She continued rubbing right there on the doorway, bending her knees a little to open her pussy up a little more. She had two fingers in and was rubbing furiously. She could feel her juices flow down her thighs and she loved it. She rubbed her clit with the other hand, going around in circles while her other hand worked her cunt, thrusting two fingers in and out. She was wet. She was horny, yet she felt as if something was missing.

She begrudgingly stopped playing with herself. She walked into the room and saw the table she was under just a few hours ago and felt the compulsion to get under there and she did. She assumed the position she was took when she watched that magnificent cock get jerked and stroked. She was squatting, her pussy wide open, exactly what she wanted. Her hand went down again and her pussy willingly accepted her two fingers again.

“Ohhh shit. Ohhhhh yeahhh that’s it… finally” She was impossibly horny. She could just imagine that cock again getting pumped in front of her. She could remember the cock with amazing detail, the product of staring at it intently for about five minutes. She continued to finger her wet cunt.

She was disappointed however that no matter how horny she was, something seems to still be missing. She got out. She knew what she wanted. She knew that tis would make everything complete.

She went to Paul’s side of the room and saw his bag. Very carefully, she opened it and searched. She couldn’t find the thing she wanted and was getting very agitated. Just then she saw a small blue bag beside it and opened it. There it is! She took it out and practically ran back to the table.

She went underneath and squatted. With one hand rubbing her pussy, her left hand adjusted Paul’s used white briefs and put it on top of her nose. She inhaled deeply. Immediately, Paul’s manly scent filled her nostrils. She inhaled deeper. She could smell the scent of his raw dick on the briefs. She loved it. And her pussy loved it. She was transported to a different place. A dream world. It was almost like she was on drugs. After two inhalations, she came. Her body convulsed and shook with the force of the orgasm hitting her.

Nevertheless, she never took the briefs off of her nose and instead she inhaled even deeper. She absolutely loved the smell of Paul’s dick. With it, she can imagine the scene better, as if it was actually happening again. She even stuck her tongue out to taste the cloth. She could taste precum on the briefs, a taste she recognized after going down on her past boyfriends and lovers.  She sucked on the briefs and inhaled again. She continued to finger her pussy with her fingers. Her pussy hair was matted as it got soaked by her cum. “Mmmmmm, Ooooh” She kept saying. She was close to getting insane with ecstasy. She inhale again and again.

She could not get enough of the smell of Paul’s dick. She continued to finger herself as she did so. She wanted one more finger in but her small pussy couldn’t take it. “Oh shit Paul”. She thought. She was disappointed with herself in some ways when she couldn’t push one more finger in because it meant that she couldn’t take that gorgeous cock in if she had the opportunity.

She forced it in, and it hurt. Three fingers in and she was in pain, but instead of stopping, she went on fingering. She inhaled some more and every time she did, the pain became less and less. “FUUUCKKK!!! I WANT YOUR COCK!!!” She screamed. She was about to cum. “YOUR COCK! YOUR COCK! OH THAT FUCKING COCK! Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT. ARRGGGHHHHHHH!”

Another orgasm hit her. It was intense. More than the first one. She lost her balance and had to let go of the briefs to balance herself. Instead of dropping the briefs on the floor, she stuffed it in her mouth. Her orgasm made her cunt convulse and forced her fingers out.

She finally lost her balance totally and fell on the floor, still shaking like an epileptic. Her clit was throbbing fast and her cunt lips quivered. Without any strength, tired and visibly spent, she fell asleep, with Paul’s briefs still in her mouth as her cum flowed freely out of her quivering, exhausted cunt.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

New Forest - New position

stevejo98 on Anal Stories

I met Jennifer through work at a retirement event for her uncle. She was a big noise in tourism, and I was Sales Manager for the company her uncle owned near Southampton.

She was very in her early thirties, attractive, slim, tall and alone! I was on my own, the recent divorce having just come through. I looked at her, and saw she was being bored out of her mind by a guy from accounts. We smiled at each other, then I moved closer and spoke to try and break the hold of the boring old guy from her attention. It worked and she spoke. 'Thanks for that, I was ready to kill him.' Her voice was what is now called posh English, but on her it was an incredible sexual style.

I looked again at her. She was small breasted and the dress she wore was close fitting, showing

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a trace nipples and of high cut panty. I am a panty man, and love seeing a little VPL. I also saw she was drinking a large wine in fair gulps while eating small pieces of salmon off the buffet'.

'Hey slow down, or you will have indigestion' I said 'You won't get home safely'

'Who want's to go home' she said bitterly. I replied too quickly 'Not me, nothing to go for.'

She looked at me and smiled 'You too? Im just selling up the old house now HE has gone.' The words were said to hurt. I changed the subject and asked about her work, in small talk ways. But I liked what I saw. The was sex on legs. The guy must have been a real dipstick. (Which turned out to be true). She told me about her job as regional tourism manager, and I told her about my work in aircraft. She grabbed another drink off a passing tray and half drained it. I took her arm and guided us to a couple of seats at the corner of the board room.

'Thanks' she said 'I am sorry, but I don't want to be here. I don't mind uncle, but I can't take people at the moment'. I thought thats it, she has given me the brush. My face must have said so when she looked at me and said 'I didn't mean you, you saved me from a fate worse than death', She nodded toward Mr accounts. She turned and gave me a peck on the cheek, which oozed sex, and had me growing hard. I wanted this woman, and grabbing her hand, kissed her on her lips.

'Come on' she said grinning ' lets get out of here. Can you drive me home. Its 15 miled away though.'

I said yes, and wouldn't have minded if it was 100 miles away. She said she would let uncle know, as he had picked her up to bring her, and five minutes later, after I had said my good bye's we were in the company car park.

'So where to?' I asked as she slid into the seat, her dress riding up as she relaxed. She told me that she lived near the New Forest and gave me directions.

3O minutes later it was a mist which caused the problem as I got lost on a lane in the Forest when she was slow at telling me the turnings. I stopped the car, and reached across to the glove compartment, by hand brushing her right nipple through the dress as I did so.She felt warm, I quickly pulled my hand away, and she as quickly grabbed my hand and put it back. Her nipple grew, and although her breats were small, the nip was really big.

'I want you - now' she said. She pulled her dress up over her head, and I saw this body to die for with her pink bra and panties.

She reached across and helped me, or rather himdered me in getting undressed. Thank God I had worn decent stuff as she yanked at my boxers and grabbed my cock.

Now, Im not going into the fantasy side here, because I am a normal just over 6 inch guy, but I am quite wide, and she just slid across , slid her panties over and jumped on me. She gasped as my cock penetrated her. No foreplay, just a straight in fuck. And she was tight, but very wet. But she rode me in a frenzy and continued to ride me hard, when she came with a real scream, I came right into that warm silky cunt with as much juice as I can ever remember. She kissed me again, this time biting my lip.

'That was the best fuck I have had in years.' Hearing these words from this English rose in her pure English did something to me, because I started getting hard again.

I took command and told her to get off me and get out of the car.She slid off me and opened the door and stood naked by the car. I got out and grabbed her in one long french kiss. Then she moved and bent over the car bonnet.

'Now do me from behind' she husked at me.

'Your wish is my command' I said as I slid my cock toward to cunt.

'No' she said 'Not there. The other one. I want you in my bum'.

I had not had anal. My ex didn't approve. But here was a beauty who wanted me to fuck her arse. I knew my birthdays had all arived together, as I held my even stiffer cock and slowly pushed into her gorgeous puckered anus. She gasped and flinched, but I pushed on and slowly but surely hit base.

'O fuck me - please'. she whimpered, as I pulled out, watching her bum grip my cock, and then push back as I pushed home. The feeling was sublime. I kept pushing and pulling and she kept up little moans which made it more sexy still. After several minutes she said 'Go for it. Fill me' and that was it, We started a fast and furious fuck which only ended with both of us yelling our climax.

We spent the rest of the night in the car, fucking and kissing and talking. It was the start of a brief and very exhauting affair.

Fucked BY Teacher

Saif on Exhibitionist Stories

" Saif, get up and explain what a market economy is'' Ms. pamela ordered. i gulped as i haven't prepared for the class. she looked at me and smiled her sexy, seductive, wicked smile and said, '' oh look, somebody forgot his homework, that's it saif detention after school''

let me describe myself, i'm 5' 8'' and have fair complexion with green eyes and a muscuar body. i was actually looking forward to the detention as i would get a chance to be wih her alone. Ms. Pamela had huge tits and a nice body and a nice ass. she had green eyes as well and had blonde hair.

I went to her after school and she told me to sit down in the nearest desk. i worked for about an hour and she said that as i had worked althroughout my detention period i deserved something. with that she
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came closer to me and gave me a very passionate kiss on my lips. i got up and responded. suddenly she drew back and said one minute and went  towards the door to lock it. she came back and pulled down my pants and started to suck my cock. i had the greatest feeling at that time. i had started to take off her dress while she was sucking my cock. she got up and told me to fuck her. i put my cock into her pussy and started to fuck her rilly hard. i rammed into her again and again and finally blew my load into her.
she gave me another kiss and with that she left.
i sure spent a lot of time in detention after that marvelous afternoon and got to know Ms. Pamela even better.


A Chinese Dish Part 2

publisher on Taboo Stories

A Chinese Dish

 

Part 2

 

 

The next morning I saw Susie coming across the street. This time she just walked right in and came to face me. I started to say Hi but she stopped me.

 

“ Don’t say a word pervert. You just do what I say and remember all I have to do is report you and your life i

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s over”.

 

I just looked down at her and nodded. She said, “Now drop your pants and sit down”.

 

I did as ordered by this little 13-year-old mistress. She walked over to where I was sitting and took my cock in her hands. I immediately started growing at her touch. She started stroking my cock slowly but with a firm grip. I got hard and was oozing pre-cum when I leaned back and closed my eyes. She reached up and slapped me and said,

 

“Open your eyes and look at me.

 

You’re going to watch every stroke”. She started stroking faster and faster. Her tiny hands were a blur as I felt the pressure building in my balls. I was so close when she stopped.

 

She said, “Oh no, not yet”. She told me to lay on the floor on my back. I did as she commanded then watched wide eyed as she stripped off her pants and panties. She had the most beautiful tiny hairless cunt I had ever seen. She stood over me straddling my head with one foot on either side while I just stared up at her little pussy. Just then she let go a stream of piss right in my face. It hit me in the mouth before I could close it and close my eyes as she pissed on me.

 

My cock was ready to explode on its own. She turned around to show me the most perfect round ass I have ever seen. It was flawless. She squatted down over my face putting that perfect ass right on my mouth. She ordered me to lick her ass hole. I guess she didn’t realize I didn’t need any encouragement as I stuck my tongue out to taste her wonderful ass hole. I started licking and sucking for all I was worth. I felt her start grinding her ass down on my mouth and heard her moan quietly.

 

I started to reach up to her tits when she smacked my cock really hard. She told me not to move just keep licking her ass. My cock was standing up rock hard and ready to explode.. She started moving her hips more and moaning. She was getting close to coming. Then she really pushed her ass down on my face and started yelling,

 

“Oh my god I’m going to cum. Eat my ass pervert, eat it all up.”. Then she stiffened and actually had a great squirting orgasm. Her cum shot across my stomach and hit my cock. When I felt that that was enough. My cock shot off with the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. The first shot must have gone 6 feet straight up, followed by at least a dozen weaker shots.

 

I was exhausted and totally spent. She just sat there on my face catching her breath. When she finally got up she started putting her pants on but handed me her little panties. She said, “This is your reward for doing a great job”. With that she smiled and said, “See you tomorrow”. As she left I couldn’t help thinking, I’m being dominated and controlled by a beautiful 13-year-old girl that just gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life. I couldn’t help but smile and wonder what “punishment” I would receive tomorrow.

 

 

Part 3 coming soon

Whores And Pimps - Part I

PantyhosePrincess on Transgender Stories

Whores and Pimps - Part I

 

By

 

Michele Nylons

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Malcolm was a middle manager in a small business in a large city.  Malcolm led a pretty boring life; he in his forties, single, devoted to his work, he liked to keep himself fit, all of his family lived interstate except for his older sister who lived nearby, and he led a quiet social life.  Malcolm had a few girlfriends over the years but never anything serious; he kept himself to himself and rarely socialised outside of a small circle of colleagues and close friends he had cultivated over the years.  Malcolm was boring really; but he one closely guarded secret.  Malcolm was a crossdresser.

 

Once or twice a week Malcolm liked to lock all the doors of his modest two-bedroom suburban home, close all of the blinds, take the phone off the hook, and dress like a woman.  It had started as nothing really serious; as a child he had liked to play with his older sister’s panties and nylons; he loved the feel of the garments against his skin and occasionally he would wear his sister’s underwear for an hour or two and then carefully place it back in the laundry basket.  His fetish continued into his teens and when he finally left home and got a place of his own be bought his own panties, stockings and pantyhose and would spend the odd evening dressed in the silky articles.

 

Malcolm enjoyed his fetish alone and never talked about it to anyone, not even to whoever his current girlfriend might be at the time.  Every now and again he was successful in talking a girlfriend into wearing stockings or pantyhose during sex and he loved the sensation of fucking her as she wrapped her nylon encased legs around his body; but it was not the same as wearing them himself.  After a few years he also added petticoats, slips, suspender belts and other lingerie to his collection.  Then the internet explosion happened.

 

Like most men Malcolm went searching for pornography on the net and concentrated on searching for sites which contained lingerie and hosiery fetish.  Then one day he typed “men in pantyhose” into his web-browser and as he explored the matches to his search he came across a few sites dedicated to crossdressing.  He followed the links further and further into the cyber-world of crossdressing and he was fascinated by it.  He saw so many pictures of guys dressed not only in lingerie but fully dressed as women; wearing women’s clothes, shoes, wigs and makeup.  He became hooked.

 

Eventually he summoned up enough courage to acquire some clothes, makeup, shoes and a couple of wigs.  He would buy the items whilst he was away on business; never in his home town; he was terrified of being caught.  And so Malcolm went on year after year, dressing up once or twice a week, home alone and surfing the net where he entered chatrooms to chat on line with other closet crossdressers about all sorts of TG issues.  He soon discovered that the world of the Transgendered was often confusing and mostly secretive.  A few of the girls he chatted with on line were Transsexuals and wanted to live their lives as women.  Some Crossdressers dressed so well that they could pass as women but were not at all interested in becoming women; they just loved to dress as women and sometimes they got together.  They called themselves Transvestites and some of them met up to share their experiences or just to be in each other’s company; some of them belonged to an organisation called the Seahorse Club.  Other Transvestites met up to have sex with each other or with men. He discovered that the men who liked to have sex with Transvestites were called Admirers and they trolled the chatrooms and websites looking to arrange meetings.  But most of his online friends were like him; for reasons many and varied, all they wanted to do, or most often all they could do, was to dress up at home and enjoy what they could of their fetish, alone or in the cold world of cyberspace.  A lot of them were married men who kept their crossdressing activities secret or ‘in the closet’ as the colloquial term was known. 

 

Yes it was a very exciting but confusing world out there in TG land and up until now Malcolm was content with his lot; he never dreamed of going out dressed as a woman and even though he sometimes fantasised about meeting other Crossdressers or Admirers he was too scared to do so.  Malcolm was just too terrified of being caught; he was horrified of what the consequences might be if his colleagues and friends; or even worse his if his family found out about his secret.  A couple of times he had summoned up the courage to wear pantyhose and panties to work under his male attire and even though it had thrilled him he had one bad incident which had scared him from ever doing that ever again.

 

Malcolm got on with everybody, especially everyone at work; he was friendly, cheerful, a good listener and worked hard.  But there was one person there who just didn’t like him.  The guy’s name was Eddie and he was the office jerk.  If there was an office prank or someone was the butt of a practical joke, then you could pretty much guarantee that Eddie was behind it.  He was annoying, but harmless enough and very productive; the bosses liked Eddie and turned a blind eye to his misgivings because he earned well for the company.  In fact the only other manager whose department earned more than Eddie’s was Malcolm’s; maybe that’s why Eddie was particularly vindictive to Malcolm with his petty practical jokes.  Malcolm mostly ignored Eddie’s jokes and snide comments but one day he let his guard down and paid a hefty price.

One day Malcolm had gone to work one day wearing black sheer to the waist pantyhose and pink nylon panties under his business suit and was enjoying the thrill of being dressed that way secretly in public.  On the rare occasions he went to work wearing pantyhose and panties he was very careful to make sure that his secret was safe; if he had to go to the toilet he would use the cubicles that had full length doors and when seated at his desk he checked every few minutes to ensure that his shirt remained tucked in, in the unlikely event that the waistband of his pantyhose or panties might show.  This day he had to go pee and went to the men’s room and locked himself in the end stall, contented that he could lower his trousers and do his business without being caught dressed in panties and hose.  He hung his suit coat on the hook on the back of the cubicle door, lowered his pants and sat on the toilet seat with his panties and pantyhose bunched around his ankles.  What he didn’t know was that Eddie had followed Malcolm into the toilet to play a prank on him.  Malcolm never found out what the prank was; all he ever knew was that it somehow involved Eddie standing on the toilet in the stall next to his and looking over into Malcolm’s stall; maybe Eddie was going to throw a glass of water over  him or something equally inane. 

 

What did happen was that Malcolm heard snickering and looked up to see Eddies grinning face peering over the adjacent stall. Malcolm was horrified and just looked up slack jawed. Eddie just said,

 

 “Nice underwear sweet-cheeks,” and his face disappeared from view.

 

Malcolm spent the rest of the day, then the week, and then month in agony waiting for Eddie to torment him and ridicule him in front of his colleagues; he thought up ridiculous excuses as to why he might be dressed that way but the best he could come up with was that it was a bet; but with who?  As it turned out Eddie never said anything to anyone else; he just occasionally sidled up to Malcolm and whispered,

 

“Are you wearing them today?” winked and walked away.

 

Eventually Malcolm decided that Eddie was too scared to bring up what had happened because he would have to explain his own actions; spying on a man doing his business in a toilet stall.  Malcolm figured Eddie was content to just torment him occasionally with the question as to wether he was wearing female underwear to work.  Malcolm never wore female underwear to work after that; he remained content to just play dress-up at home.  Until one day………………

 

Every year on the anniversary of firm’s founding, the bosses paid out for a big party; it had become a tradition.  The party was fancy dress and it was held on the evening of the last working day before the Christmas break.  Over the years it had become customary for the party to have a theme; and the theme had a twist. The twist was that whatever the theme was, the women dressed in the male or dominant role and the men dressed in the feminine or submissive role.  One year it was ‘cops and robbers’; where the women came along dressed as policemen or prison warders and the men arrived dressed as criminals or prisoners (lots of horizontal striped shirts and black masks that year; like the Beagle Boys in the Scrooge McDuck comics).

 

One year had been ‘toffs and paupers’; lots of the women dressed in top hats and tails and the men dressed in the rags similar to the scallywags in Oliver Twist.  There had been ‘cowboys and Indians’ (girl cowboys, boy Indians); ‘heroes and villains’ (girl heroes, boy villains); and last year, the best yet, had been ‘knights and damsels’ with the girls dressed as knights, valets and lords of the realm, and the men dressed as medieval princesses and ladies of the court.  Everyone had a big laugh at that one, especially the men who had really got into the spirit of the thing with lots of them dressed up in drag in crinolines and ball gowns.  It was a big laugh for everyone.  Malcolm was tempted to dress up in his favourite lingerie, a ball gown, wig and makeup; but in the end had chickened out and came dressed as a court jester.

 

This year it was Malcolm’s turn to choose the theme because he had been voted the worst dressed at last year’s party.  The judging panel had decided that his court jester’s outfit was a copout on the theme and, as per tradition, the person voted worst dressed had to choose the theme for the following year.  It was considered a task not to be taken lightly; the more outrageous the theme the more acclaim it received; and the person who chose an interesting and outrageous theme became the most popular man in the company; for at least a few months anyway.  Malcolm had wrestled with the decision as to what the theme for this year’s party should be.  Malcolm being Malcolm, everyone expected something boring like ‘spacemen and aliens’ or some other safe subject matter, but they were all surprised and delighted when in late November Malcolm posted the theme for this year’s party on noticeboard. It was ‘Whores and Pimps’.

 

Of course Malcolm had his own secret agenda; for years now he had wanted to go out in public dressed as a woman.  Not like last year, dressed in a costume, but dressed in real women’s clothing, fully made up and feminised.  This was his big chance, and of course the more effort he made to be feminine the more he could justify it; after all, as the party’s organiser it was expected that he would endeavour to dress up as realistic as possible in keeping with the spirit of the theme.  The only concern he had was when he received an email from an anonymous address that simply said; ‘I might have guessed’, Malcolm was sure that Eddie had sent him the email but after a few days he pretty much forgotten about it.

 

Malcolm agonised for weeks as to how he could get away with dressing up as realistically as possible and to have a valid excuse as to why he looked so good dressed as a woman.  Last year the men who had dressed as ‘damsels’ had looked pretty ordinary; sure they had hired great costumes, crinoline ball gowns, tiaras, ladies slippers and so forth; but most of them had five o’clock shadow and their makeup was garish and clown-like, their wigs cheap and knotted poor facsimiles.   Then he had a brainwave; he would get his sister to dress him and make him up!  He could answer any questions as to why he looked so good dressed as a woman truthfully; “My sister dressed me and made me up,” and if anyone asked her, she would verify his claim.  She would be his unwilling alibi.

 

Malcolm hit the chat rooms in the days leading up to the big party and all his online friends encouraged him and offered advice; everything from “Don’t do it!” to “Go for it honey; stay out all night and pick up a nice man!”  Malcolm was a little perturbed about that last remark because sometimes, when he home alone dressed as a woman, he fantasised about what it would be like to be with a man whilst he was feminised.  He also hit lots of Transvestite web sites like TVChix, KTM, Crossdress World and so forth looking at pictures of Transvestites he admired to find the right ‘look’ for the party.  He wanted to look slutty but not trashy; sort of up market streetwalker.  He found a lot of girls in the UK and Europe had mastered the look he wanted capture; that dark haired beauty Lyn in the UK had the look; so did Janet Petteflet in Holland, Wendy Stockings in Scotland, and Cherry in Melbourne Australia.

 

Malcolm finally made up his mind as to how he wanted to look for the party; and then he had a dilemma that he hadn’t thought of before; one of his online girlfriends had asked him what fem name he was going to use.  When he was online he just used the handle ‘loves-to-dress’ and because he had only ever dressed alone he and had never talked to anyone in the real world about his transvestism, there had  never been a reason to have a fem name.  It would be easy to think up some trashy name to use at the party; everyone wore nametags at the party and they were usually the same absurd double entendres you heard on bad British comedies.  Names such as: ‘Sir Shagsalot,’ ‘Baron Ivor Bigun’ and ‘Princess Swallows’ had been some of the more ridiculous names used by partygoers last year.  He wanted a name that he could use at the party and that he could keep forever as his own secret name for when he crossdressed.  He thought about it for a few days and finally decided on a name.

 

He wanted a first name close to his male first name, but not so close that it was obvious; and his crossdressing had originally started out as a fetish for panties and hosiery; so the name came to him in an inspiration.  He played with the name Melanie for a while but decided that it was too close to his real male name.  He settled on Michele; Michele with one L, because it was a little bit different.  Malcolm decided his fem name would be Michele Nylons.

 

By the time the day of the party arrived Malcolm had made all of the many arrangements required of him as the organiser. The venue was the small function room of one of the cheaper city hotels, the catering, drinks and entertainment were part of the venue’s package; the firm paid for the party but they didn’t lend themselves to extravagance; after all the party was just really an excuse to dress up stupidly, get drunk and let off steam.  Also the firm’s thirty or so employees preferred the venue to be at one of the cheaper hotels because, as most of them and their partners got drunk at the party, they usually rented hotel rooms at the venue.

 

The previous weekend Malcolm had called his sister on Friday evening and explained to her about the party and his need to dress up as a whore for the theme; he then went on to clarify why he needed to look as realistic as possible because he was the host and organiser it was expected oh him, and begged her for her help.  He went on to say that he had some ideas as to how he wanted to look and that he had even got hold of some pictures off the internet to help him decide how he should look.  As he had no idea how to dress like a woman she would have to help him.  She eagerly agreed and was pleased that the normally quiet, reserved Malcolm was coming out of his shell for this event.  She told him to bring along the pictures on Saturday morning and they would go shopping for everything they needed so that Malcolm would look as whore-like as possible; it would be fun!

 

When Saturday arrived Malcolm met his sister Angie in the city outside of a large department store.  He had already figured out that he needed to behave naive when it came to world of women’s clothing and makeup; but he was determined to ensure he got exactly the look he wanted; he would have to be cunning that’s all.

 

“Hi Angie,” he said, and kissed her cheek when she arrived outside of Myer; one of the better stores in town.

“Hi Malcolm,” she responded.

“Let’s get you feminised then, you hussy,” she laughed, and Malcolm blushed; ‘If only she knew the truth,’ he thought.

“Come on; lingerie first,” she said enthusiastically and took his hand and led him into the store.

They made their way to the lingerie section of the store and started looking around.

“When you say you have to look as realistic as possible does that mean underwear too?” she asked.

“We can get away with some cheap foundation garments if you like; we can squeeze you into a cheap bra and you can just wear your own underwear under women’s clothing if you like?” she added.

Malcolm was horrified at the prospect.

“No; definitely not!” he enthused, “If we are going to make me look like a hooker, then lets go all the way; I want to win best dressed and who knows how good some of the other guys will look; it can be quite competitive you know and it might come down to who is wearing the best knickers!” he laughed, hoping he hadn’t gone to far and given his real motive away.

“Alright then; lets turn you into a complete slut,” Angie giggled, “This is going to be fun!”

“My boring, unadventurous, brother is really getting into the swing of things.  It’s about time!” she added.

Angie led Malcolm to the brassiere section of the lingerie department and he pleaded ignorance as she expounded the various virtues of the different types of brassieres.  They eventually settled on red satin full cup, size 14C.

“Red is definitely a whore’s colour,” she chuckled “and your panties should match; they usually have a matching panty for the better quality brassiere you know?”

“Do they really?” Malcolm responded feigning ignorance of such things.

“Here they are!” she quipped, delighted at having found the matching item on the rack of panties below the bras.

“Now I reckon any whore would love these,” she laughed, “here; what do you think?” she asked holding a pair of red satin bikini panties up for him to see.

“How the fuck would I know Angie? And do you have to hold the fucking things up for everyone to see they’re for me?” he pretended to be angry.

“Oh don’t be silly Malcolm; if anyone asks we just tell them the truth.  Besides you will have to try on some of the clothes anyway, at the moment I’m just guessing your sizes,” she responded.

“You mean women have different sizes to men?” he quizzed.  Malcolm knew exactly what size he was in women’s clothes and shoes but he couldn’t let on.

“Of course; at the moment I’m guessing your about a 14; a larger size for a woman even though you take a medium size in men’s clothing.”

“Ok,” Malcolm tried to sound befuddled but she had nailed his size in one guess.

“Now if you want to look like a real whore then we had better get you some stockings; we can get stay-ups or we can get the type that require garters or a suspender belt; what do you think?”

“Definitely suspender belt!”  Malcolm responded a little to eagerly.

Angie looked quizzically at her brother and he reddened.

“Angie; I’m a man so I have seen plenty of pictures of scantily clad women in my time and the sexy ones always wear suspenders and stockings,” he responded.

“Suspenders and stockings it is then,” she laughed.

“Oh I just love this one; and it matches the panties and bra,” she said, reaching for, and then holding up a red lace garter belt with six long red suspender straps hanging from it.

They wondered over to the hosiery section and began to browse.  Angie rummaged around and eventually held out a package to Malcolm.  ‘Sheer Fully-Fashioned Seamed Stockings by Kaiser” the label said.  A little clear window in the package displayed that the stocking were black.

“Perfect,” Angie said. “Whores always wear black stockings.”

“Mmmm,” she mused, “Show me your legs.”

“What?” Malcolm responded caught unaware by the request.

“Show me your legs stupid,” she repeated and reached down and pulled up one leg of Malcolm’s pants up to his knee.

“Just as I thought; hairy! That will never do!  Even though these stockings are black your hairy legs will show through; we’ll have to get you some pantyhose to wear under them,” she went on; dismissing Malcolm and rummaging again amongst the many packages of hosiery on the shelves.

“Just the thing!” She sounded delighted and flung another package at Malcolm.

This time the label said ‘Kolotex Sheer To The Waist High Sheen Pantyhose.’ ‘Colour – Taupe’.

“Jeeze, I didn’t realise it was so hard being a woman?” Malcolm laughed; again pretending ignorance but secretly pleased at all of the selections Angie had made so far.

“Ok buster; now comes the hard part; skirt and blouse.” Angie went on and led Malcolm further into the store.

“Didn’t you say you had some pictures?” Angie asked.

“Well I got these off the net,” Malcolm said. “Apparently the women in the photos are really men; Transvestites I think they are called.  They look realistic to me though.”

“Malcolm; you are the dark horse; I never dreamed you would know about such things!” Angie looked shocked as Malcolm handed her the pictures.

“Well I never did know anything about this until I had to organise this fucking theme party!” Malcolm pretended to be angry again.

“I just entered a few keywords into my browser and these are some of the pictures that it came up with.  And I’ll tell you what; some of the other pictures were actually pornographic.  Do you know there are some sickos out there that actually LIKE dressing as women?” he went on.

“Malcolm you have led a sheltered life haven’t you,” Angie answered but she was now too busy looking at skirts to carry the conversation on any further.

Angie looked at the pictures and looked at some skirts on a rack.  She poked around for a while selecting items and then putting them back. Finally,

“Yes; this is it!” she squealed.

Angie held out a black leather miniskirt looking extremely pleased with herself.

“It’s just like this one the girl; well man; well whatever; is wearing in this picture,” she said; pointing to a picture of Janet Petteflet which Malcolm had downloaded from KTMGirls. 

“Now for the awkward bit; you will have to try it on.”

Malcolm paled; he hadn’t though of that.  He knew that he was usually a size 14 in a skirt but also knew that sizes varied; he had a couple of 12s and even a 16 at home.

“It’s no good frowning and looking sorry for yourself.  If you are going to spend all this money to dress up for one stupid party we at least better make sure the clothes are going to fit you.” Angie scolded.

As it turned out it wasn’t that difficult.  Angie being Angie just went up to the floor supervisor and told her the truth; that Malcolm had to dress up in drag for a party.  The supervisor, an attractive woman in her fifties, was only too delighted to help.  She led them to a single fitting room that had a full length door that was separate to the rest of the female fitting rooms.

“We keep this room for special clients and the handicapped; It’s separate to the rest of the fitting rooms and very discreet.  Just find me when you have made your selections and I’ll see to you personally,” the floor supervisor smiled.

“Right; now a blouse!” Angie went on and charged on through the women’s clothing department to where there were what looked like thousands of blouses.

Malcolm was so glad that he had though of using his sister as a ruse; she seemed so enthusiastic and was actually having fun selecting clothes for him.  This was going a lot easier than he thought it would; he didn’t have to explain what he wanted at all; Angie was taking the lead and selecting just what he would have chosen to wear himself.

“Finally!” Angie exclaimed holding up her prize after what seemed like eternity as she waded through a sea of blouses and tops.

It was a sheer nylon leopard-skin patterned, longsleeved blouse and it was perfect to go with the black leather miniskirt.

“Right lets get you sorted brother of mine; go and wait by the fitting room.” Angie dictated and stormed off back towards the skirts.

A few minutes later Angie returned with the floor supervisor; her arms loaded with clothing.

“I’ve got the skirt and blouse in size fourteen and sixteen,” she said “Try them on in there and make sure they fit properly; can you do that?”

“I know,” she went on, “take this in with you and try to make sure you look as good as the girl in the photo,” she said, handing him the picture of Janet Petteflet.

Malcolm went into the booth knowing that the size 14 skirt would be perfect; and it was.  The size 14 blouse was too short in the sleeves and tight in the shoulders; the size 16 would have to do even though he would have preferred it to be tighter around the waist.  Malcolm came out of the fitting room and handed his selections to Angie and the others to the floor supervisor.  Angie wasted no time and dragged him over towards the footwear department.

“The fucking blouses button up the wrong way,” Malcolm whined; again pretending ignorance in the matter of female attire.

“No they don’t; men’s shirts button up the wrong fucking way, you lummox,” she quipped, and continued to drag him along by his sleeve.

When they got to the ladies footwear section it was blessedly easy.  Angie went straight to a pair of black, patent leather, high heeled sandals. Malcolm made a stupid gaffe as Angie looked at a size chart,

“Size ten,” Malcolm said, not thinking of the consequences.

Angie spun around and looked him quizzically.  Malcolm blushed a deep red and stammered,

“I read somewhere that women’s sizes are two sizes smaller than men’s.  You know it’s one of those bits of useless information you pick up,” he offered as an explanation.

Angie continued to stare at him questioningly for a minute and then turned back to the rack of shoes and selected a pair of size tens.

“Here; try these,” she said handing him the high heels.

“There’s no one around, just try them on ok,” she warned before Malcolm could offer a protest.

Malcolm sat on a stool and removed his loafers and socks and tried them on; a perfect fit.

“Lovely! I’ll show you how to walk in them tomorrow Malcolm; you will find it difficult but no self respecting whore would wear anything except high heels,” she laughed, regaining her previous joviality.

“Accessories and makeup next!” Angie charged ahead again.

“Accessories? Makeup?” Malcolm quizzed.

“Oh just go to the in store coffee shop Malcolm and I’ll meet you there later,” she tried to feign anger but laughed.

Malcolm did as he was told and Angie joined him about twenty minutes later.  Sipping on a latte she showed him what she had acquired in his absence.  There was a slim gold belt with a silver buckle, a gold clutch purse, a selection of makeup (to which he showed absolute ignorance for sake of appearances), and what seemed to be far too much jewellery for one night’s dress-up.  They finished their coffee and took their selections to the checkout where thankfully Angie presented the purchases to the cashier and all Malcolm had to do was hand over the cash.

Angie again led the way and this time they stopped in hairdressing salon.  Angie explained that it was her favourite salon. And the best hairdresser in town worked there.

“I could take you to a fancy-dress store and rent something tacky or we could go to a novelty shop and get one of those awful novelty wigs but you did say you wanted to look as feminine as possible so I’m afraid you will have to fork out for something good.  On the bright side; if the wig looks good on me too I might buy it off you after the party,” she said.

Angie took charge of the situation and entered into a deep discussion with one of the hairdressers whilst Malcolm stood there with his hands full of shopping bags trying not to look embarrassed.  Eventually he was led into a small room at the back of the hairdressers where he was seated and introduced to Stephan, Angie’s hairdresser.  Angie and Stephen then seemed to have the time of their lives trying different wigs on Malcolm.  They finally both agreed on one, and Stephan held up a mirror so that Malcolm could see.  It was brunette with some lighter highlights; the hair was straight but curved slightly at the neck and fell to just on his shoulders; the fringe just covered his eyebrows.  It was lovely but of course Malcolm just said,

“Well if you think its ok we’ll take it” and paid up.  He made a fuss about the price, secretly pleased that the wig was perfect for the shape of his face.

Outside the hairdressers they parted ways; Malcolm was disappointed when Angie took all the purchases from him,

“It’s not as if you need them until next Friday is it? And as you are coming around my place to for me to dress you properly and make you up I might as well take them home,” she said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek and walking off towards where her car was parked.

“Thanks for all the help,” Malcolm responded and walked away excited. He could hardly wait for next Friday.

All week the office was abuzz with talk of the party; many of the staff discussed how they were going to dress.  Some were just going to squeeze into their wives clothes; some had gone to costume-hire specialists.  The girls were having a great time rummaging out old flared purple pants, platform shoes and other outrageous seventies pimp apparel. Malcolm kept quiet despite the friendly ribbing that he copped from some of the staff; they joked that boring old Malcolm wouldn’t know a whore from a boar or that he would probably come looking more like a washer woman than a prostitute after last year’s feeble effort.  The only quip that disturbed him was an aside from Eddie,

“She’ll look gorgeous I’ll bet.”

Malcolm didn’t know if Eddie was joking or being sarcastic but he didn’t care; he was too excited and looking forward to the party for reasons that none of his colleagues could imagine; Michele was making her debut!

Friday afternoon finally came and Malcolm drove around to his sister’s place in eager anticipation.  The firm had finished work early and he had a few drinks after work with some of the staff and they had said cheery farewells until later that evening.  He arrived at Angie’s place as instructed at five o’clock having showered and shaved as close as possible ensuring his face was smooth and without a trace of stubble. He had a gin and tonic to steady his nerves before leaving home and Angie greeted him at the door with another.

“To help you relax dear brother,” she laughed and led him through the house into her bedroom.

Angie had unwrapped all of last week’s purchases and they were laid out on her bed; Malcolm get excited just looking at them and gulped down his drink. Angie went to fix him another.

“I’ve been thinking Malcolm; how serious are you about looking as feminine as possible?” she called from the lounge.

“I really want to win the prize Angie; I want to really make up for last year,” he shouted back.

Angie returned with a drink for both of them.

“Well there is only one thing for it then,” she said and reached into a draw in her dresser and held out a pink plastic object that looked like some sort of alien ray gun.

“It’s my Lady Shaver,” she responded to his quizzical look, “were shaving your legs ok?”

Malcolm was now a little drunk and laughed out loud,

“Well if that’s what it takes Angie; let’s do it!”

After a brief argument in which Angie explained that she had seen her younger brother naked when she bathed him as a child.  She also went on to explain that in her eyes seeing a man in his briefs was no different to seeing a man in his swimming costume so Malcolm stripped down to his briefs and sat on the chair in front of the dressing table.  Angie ran the shaver up and down his legs until they were hairless; this was achieved with much howling and complaining from Malcolm who was reminded by Angie that women had to suffer far worse to look good for men; as he was about to find out.  She shaved the hair off his feet and toes and examined her handy work.

“You’ll still have to wear the pantyhose I’m afraid; your legs are lily white and some of those varicose veins look like roadmaps. It’s a trick I used when I was younger when I couldn’t be bothered shaving my legs before a date; just wear two pairs of nylons,” Angie explained.

“You’re the boss,” Malcolm chuckled and took another sip of his drink.

“Ok; sit still, keep quiet and just do as I say and we’ll have you looking like a girl in no time,” Angie laughed and moved in front of him and went to work.

She had quite an assortment of cosmetics laid out on the dressing table along with various sized brushes, sponges and applicators.  Malcolm forced himself to relax and let Angie go to work.  He had made himself up hundreds of times before but now he was going to be made up by an expert so he payed attention to every detail so that he could pick up any pointers.

First Angie patiently painted his finger and toenails; two coats of glossy plumb red.  She told him not to smudge the nail polish before it hardened and went on to explain how women often tried to match their nail polish with their lipstick.

Angie applied a thick coat of foundation to his face and neck and then set it with a liberal dusting of matching face powder.  She then went to work on his eyes.  Next she brushed dark blue eyeshadow onto Malcolm’s eyelids working from the inner corner of each eye to the centre above her pupils. She worked the powder upwards right up to his eyebrows and then she applied a coat of lighter blue out to the far corners of his eyes, lightening the makeup as she worked it up to his brows and blending the two shades where they merged.

“I’m no expert at hooker makeup,” she said, “but I’ve seen enough movies to know that usually go for these garish colours.

“Whatever,” Malcolm said pretending to feign interest whilst paying close attention.

Angie tut-tutted a little and reached for some pink eyeshadow and applied it liberally around the edges of the two coats of blue that she had already applied; blending the eyeshadow with a small brush and making final adjustments with her fingertip.  Malcolm loved the effect and filed the snippet away for future use.

“Ok brother; keep very still now and just close your eyes half-closed for me; here comes the hard bit; the eyeliner.” She said, concentrating on her task.

Angie applied jet black eyeliner to his upper and lower eyelids as close to his lash-line as possible. She started in the very corner of her each eye and worked outwards applying three coats and touching up where necessary so that his eyes were framed by the black makeup.

“Open your eyes; lift your head up but look down at my tummy and keep still for me sweets ok; I’m going to do your mascara next.  I hope you are taking mental notes so that you can touch up your makeup during the evening.” Angie said.

“What do you mean; touch up my makeup?” he asked; knowing full well what she meant.

“We girls don’t stay looking good all night without touching up our war-paint you know” she giggled, “that’s why we spend so much time in the john; why do you think we call it the powder room!  I bought you some makeup yesterday that you can take with you tonight; you can give it to me later as you won’t be needing it,” she explained.

She applied plenty of thick black mascara to his upper and lower eyelashes; fiddling a little as she worked.  She explained that as his eyelashes were very fine she had to apply lots of the product to get a good effect,

“I wish we had bought falsies,” she muttered.

Malcolm laughed inside because he had three sets of false eyelashes at home.

“Ok nearly there,” she sighed and took a sip of her drink.

Angie applied blusher to his cheeks, feathering it along his cheek-line and smoothing it up so that it almost merged with his eyeshadow.  Then she dusted his whole face and neck with a coating of sheer-glow finishing powder, being careful not to smudge her mascara and eyeliner.

“Ok Malcolm I want you to play particular attention to how I do your lipstick; you will definitely have to touch up your lippy tonight,” she lectured.

She opened a long slim box that contained two slim tubes and unscrewed the first tube to reveal a slim applicator coated with plum coloured liquid lipstick.

“This is the first coat and it is long lasting colour; be careful how you use it honey because it is really hard to get it off if you fuck up ok?” she instructed, “so pay complete attention and when you touch it up tonight make sure you don’t go outside of the lip-line that I put on you.”

Malcolm had never used a two-coat lipstick before; he just used ordinary cheap lipstick at home and he paid very close attention as Angie coloured his lips with the first coat of colour and then took the other tube which she screwed at the bottom to reveal what looked more like the lippy he was used to, but slimmer and it was clear not coloured.  She waited a minute and then applied the clear top coat over the base colour coat.

“Perfect,” she whispered more to herself than him, “now leave your lips parted for a second until its dry ok?”

Angie took the brunette wig off the wig stand and brushed it out while Malcolm sat still and let his makeup set and lipstick dry.  After a minute or two Angie put the wig on his head and fiddled with it until it was sitting perfect with the fringe straight.  She brushed it here and there and then stood back to admire her work.

“You look stunning; take a look,” she said, pointing to the mirror.

 The transformation was astounding; from a plain, smooth-faced man he had become a heavily made-up middle-aged whore.  Her brunette fringe framed her dark exotic eyes and her bangs caressed her rouged cheeks and highlighted her luscious red mouth.  Malcolm now started to think of himself as Michele the whore; not as Malcolm, the boring manager of a small department in a small business.  ‘From now on, for the rest of tonight, I AM Michele!’ she convinced herself.

 

“Ok let’s get you dressed then,” Angie said.

 

“You can have a quick drink and get into your pantyhose and knickers you hussy,” she laughed, playfully kissing his cheek.

 

“I’ll step out and freshen our drinks while you do that I think; I don’t want to see your wiggly bits,” she laughed, “put the pantyhose on first then the panties over them ok?  You’ve seen one of your girlfriends put on pantyhose I take it? You don’t need my advice,” she joked; then added as she walked out the door, “don’t ladder the fucking things!”

Michele sat on the edge of Angie’s queen size bed and kicked off her men’s briefs; they now seemed ugly and inappropriate for a lovely whore like her. She eased the pantyhose from the slim packet and slipped the hosiery over her pretty painted toes and slid the sheer nylon up her feet one foot at a time.  She carefully eased the pantyhose up her legs keeping the nylon taught; smoothing out the wrinkles as she went.  She stood up and pulled the waistband of the pantyhose up over her crotch and smoothed the nylon gusset around her midriff to just below her bellybutton.  She slid the red satin bikini panties up her nyloned legs and pulled them snug around her arse and crotch. Michele felt the beginnings of an erection and nearly panicked; but then the though of her sister finding her aroused soon made it go away.

“Ready sis;” Michele called through the door.

“Oh lovely,” Angie joked as she came back into the bedroom with two more gin and tonics.

“Ok let’s get a move on, I don’t want you to be late for your own party,” she said in determined tone.

“Stand up and just do as I say buster,” she joked; but in a tone that bore no argument.

Angie took the red lace suspender belt and adjusted it so that it sat tightly around Michele’s waist and so that the top of garment covered the waistband of the pantyhose.  Next she knelt down and drew the diaphanous black nylon stockings up Michele’s legs one at a time; the stockings sighed their nylon on nylon whisper as they glided over her pantyhosed legs.  Angie carefully adjusted the back-seams so they lay straight and centred along the back of Michele’s legs and then clipped the garters hanging from the suspender-belt to the reinforced stocking tops.  As Angie smoothed the nylons along her legs Michele suppressed the shiver of excitement and felt a little uneasy about experiencing such emotions; especially with her sister’s face so close to her sex organs.  Michele swallowed and tried not to think too much into it. 

Next Angie hooked the brassiere around Michele’s chest and settled the cups into the right position; she walked over to a drawer and took out several pairs of old pantyhose which she stuffed into the cups of the bra to fill them.  Then she had Michele step into the black leather mini which she pulled at and played with until it was adjusted nicely at the waist and the hem was nice and straight at mid thigh; she left it unzipped for now.  Angie handed Michele the leopard-skin nylon blouse to put on while she went to the dresser and took a drink.  She gave Michele a sip of her own drink and put the glass down on the table.  Michele noticed that she had not left any lipstick on the rim of the glass as she often did when she was dressed at home. ‘That two-coat lipstick really works,’ she thought pretending to struggle with the buttons because they were on the opposite side to men’s shirts.  Angie came over and finished buttoning the blouse and tucked it into Michele’s skirt and zipped it up. She buckled the slim gold belt around Michele’s waist and adjusted it so that it sat nicely.

“Nearly there; just jewellery and shoes to go” she sighed.

Angie opened the packet which contained the cheap costume jewellery that she had bought for her brother last week. She clipped silver mounted ruby drops to Michele’s ears and hung a matching silver and ruby necklace around her neck and matching bracelets on both of her wrists.  She put on four large silver rings, two on the fingers of each hand; the rings were set with emeralds and rubies. 

Angie sat Michele back on the bed and slid her feet into the black leather high-heeled sandals; buckling the thin straps which came to just above Michele’s ankles. 

“Now for fuck sake be careful when you walk in these Malcolm,” Angie said; “ lean a little forward and make sure you come down on the balls of your feet first, not the heels, when you walk.  It will take some practice but it’s only for one night.  You should know what we girls have to put with when we wear those fucking death traps anyway,” she chided playfully.

Finally Angie fastened a silver anklet below Michele’s left ankle; another fake ruby glittered as it hung from the thin silver chain fastened to the anklet.

“You’re done honey; take a look in the mirror,” Angie said and helped Michele to her feet. Michele stood up and walked over to the mirror and looked at herself.

She looked stunning; the best she had ever looked dressed as a woman.  She had just the look she wanted; in her mind she decided the look was to be called ‘London streetwalker’ because she looked just like the English prostitutes she saw in the TV shows.  Michele walked over to her sister and kissed her on the cheek and said,

“Thanks Angie; you are a doll.  Oh! One more thing; pin this on for me will you?”

She handed Angie a large white name bar embossed with the firm’s logo in one corner and a Christmas tree in the other; in gold pen script in the centre of the name bar was written: MICHELE NYLONS.  Angie pinned the badge to Michele’s left breast.

“Michele Nylons; cute name,” Angie said.

“Ok Malcolm; err I mean Michele; lets do the last finishing touch.”

Angie went to her dresser and took a small green bottle of the cologne ‘Poison’ and sprayed a liberal amount of the perfume on Michele’s neck and décolletage; then she reached down and playfully sprayed under Michele’s skirt and on her thighs.

“Just in case you get lucky honey,” Angie teased.

Michele blushed a deep red,

“Fuck off Angie!” Michele responded a little hurt.

“Don’t be such a girl Malcolm; here take this,” she said dropping the small bottle of ‘Poison’ into the small gold clutch purse that they had purchased last Friday and holding it out.

“The purse has got powder, eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, blush, and lippy in there sweety; so you can touch up your makeup as you need to.  There’s also a hairbrush; everything an old whore needs to ply her trade,” she laughed.

Michele stepped forward and took the purse from her sister and bent to kiss her chastely on the lips to bid farewell.  Angie shocked Michele by pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her, closed mouth but forcefully, on the lips; then Angie astonished Michele completely by sliding her hand under Michele’s skirt and gently stroking her manhood through her panties.  Angie whispered into Michele’s ear,

“I know about you, you know!”

Michele pushed her sister away and looking absolutely stunned; she gasped,

 

“What do you mean; you know!”

 

“Oh Malcolm; I mean Michele.  I’ve suspected since we were kids.  All the times I found my nylons and panties dishevelled and stained; who else could it have been?  One day I even saw you putting a pair of my pantyhose in your pocket as you left the bathroom.” Angie explained in a soothing voice.

 

“And last week you knew your ladies shoe size; you insisting on wearing a suspender belt; you had those pictures of Transvestites; and you pretended not know that blouses button on the opposite side to shirt.  You sat uncomplaining while I put on your makeup; but the real give away was the way you walk in those high heels honey.  It took me fucking months to master high heels when I was a teenager; and you glide around my bedroom like you were born wearing the fucking things!” Angie finished.

 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of; your secret is safe with me.  And you look positively gorgeous; if you weren’t my brother I’d fuck your brains out; now get the fuck out here and go and enjoy yourself before I throw you on my bed and ravage you.” Angie pushed Michele towards the bedroom door.

 

Michele was stunned but accepted what she had just heard and realised that she had been stupid to think that she could get away with using her sister to help her crossdress and still keep her secret.  In hindsight Michele knew that she would slip up some how.  Then a question lanced into her head; ‘What did Angie mean about ravaging her? And what the fuck was that passionate kiss and quick fondle all about?’

 

“Angie; are you a lesbian or something?” Michele asked her sister as they walked to the front door.

 

“I’m an ‘or something’ ok; but that’s a conversation for another day; now get the fuck out of my house and party til you drop bitch! Oh; and come around for coffee tomorrow afternoon and tell me all about it!” she laughed and pushed Michele out of the door and into the night air.

 

Michele walked over to her car, stunned at what had just happened; even though she had lost count of the number of gin and tonics she had drunk over the last few hours she now felt completely sober.  She dropped in behind the wheel and her skirt rode up revealing her stocking tops; she smoothed down her skirt and slid her hands along her stockinged thighs and sighed with desire at the feel of her feminine attire.

 

Michele smiled to herself and drove off into the night trying to get her head around the last few minutes.  Eventually she settled down enough to realise that she had been particularly stupid drinking so much alcohol with a three quarter of an hour drive ahead of her from the suburbs to the city; the police were ruthless when it came to alcohol breath testing during the festive season.  She decided to use a little used back road that bypassed most of highway into town; it would put an extra twenty minutes or so onto her journey but she was better safe than sorry.

After she had driven a few kilometres down the dark road she realised that the effects of the drinks she had imbibed earlier had far from worn off; she had to really concentrate and to make matters worse she had never considered the difficulties of driving a car whilst wearing high heels.   Michele checked her mirrors and then reached down and attempted to unbuckle her right shoe so that she could better control the brake and accelerator.  It was a huge mistake; as she struggled with the buckle on her high heel her car swerved violently to the right and she had to correct the vehicle quite quickly on the dark narrow road.  As she gained control of the car and was congratulating herself for avoiding disaster she saw blue and red flashing lights in her rear vision mirror.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, and pulled her car over into a darkened rest area at the side of the road. 

She followed the small dirt track to series of marked parking bays behind a darkened toilet block and pulled into one of the spaces; she looked around and saw that the rest area was deserted except for her own car and the police cruiser that had now pulled up beside her.  A fat policeman squeezed from behind the wheel of the police car, turned on a large black torch and sauntered over to her driver’s side window; Michele wound down the window terrified.  She didn’t know wether to be more worried about being out dressed up in drag or being over the prescribed alcohol limit.  The fat policeman shined his torch on her face, smiled and said,

“You were all over the road back there miss; have you been drinking?”

Michele summoned up all of her courage and answered,

“I had a couple of drinks an hour ago officer but I’m sure I’m under the limit; I swerved to avoid a small animal on the road,” she lied.

The policeman looked at her for a nearly a full minute shining his torch inside the car and up and down her body and back to her face.

“Jesus Christ you’re a fucking guy aren’t you?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes officer; let me explain…….” and Michele went on to explain that she was dressed in drag to attend a theme party at work.

After listening to her story for a few minute the officer cut her short.

“Well that may be sir, ma’am; whatever.  But I still think that you are under the influence of alcohol and I intend to issue you with a roadside breath test.” He said and waddled back to the cruiser and returned with an alcometer.

He pushed it through the window in front of Michele’s face and said,

“Put your lips on the tube and blow; words I’m sure you quite used to;” he added cruelly.

Michele did as she was told and heard the machine beep rapidly after a few seconds.  She hung her head and contemplated what would happen next.  She would be taken to the police station and have to suffer the indignity of waiting around for bail dressed up in drag.  Undoubtedly the policemen at the station would ridicule and taunt her.  Even worse; what if they put her in a holding cell?  She had read about what happened to some young men in prison at the hands of jailhouse thugs; what chance would she have dressed as she was?  Could she ask for protective custody?  Her head was spinning.

The Policeman took the machine away from Michele’s lips and looked at the reading and smirked.

“You’re shit out of luck tonight sweety,” the cop smiled evilly at Michele through the window.

He turned on his heels and wobbled back to his cruiser; ‘He’s calling it in or whatever they do!’ Michele thought to herself.  She was on the verge of sobbing.  She looked across at the police cruiser and by the light of the dome light she saw the fat cop leaning inside talking on the radio.  Then the flashing lights on the top of the police car went out, closely followed by the head and tail lights.  The cop slammed the door and the rest area became hauntingly dark and deathly silent.  Michele could just make out the dimmed glow of the policeman’s torch as he returned to her car; as he approached she saw he was shading the light with his other hand.  He leaned on the roof of her car and it lurched under his added weight.

“Look honey, I’ve dealt with your type before ok; you don’t do thirty years on the force without dealing with the occasional trannie now and then.  You are in all sorts of problems here; the reading on my little machine there says you’re at least twice the legal limit to be driving.”

“Now, we can sort this out one of two ways; you can accompany me to the police station, and I’m sure the ramifications of that option have crossed your pretty little mind; and also you will lose your license and cop a hefty fine.  Plus I’m betting someone who drives a car like this has a job where a DUI will not be particularly welcomed,” the fat cop droned on.

“Or I can get in the passenger seat there and we can settle this quickly, painlessly; and to both our advantages if you know what I mean?” he finished.

Michele was now totally confused; was there a way out of this?  Was he asking her for a bribe?  Thank god! There was a way out of this! All she had to do was let the cop get in passenger seat and she would hand him some cash and he would be gone.  Yes; it made sense!  He wanted to sit in the car so no one passing by could see her handing him the money; that’s why he turned off his flashers and headlights.

“Well sure officer; get in and let’s settle,” Michele sighed, relieved.

The fat cop had trouble squeezing into Michele’s small BMW but he finally got settled and closed the door.  The dome light went out and Michele heard a rasping sound that she couldn’t quite figure out.  ‘Of course he’s opening the zipper of his wallet to hide the money,’ she concluded.

“Turn on the dome light honey; I want to see you do it,” the cop said.

That made sense to Michele; he wanted to make sure he was giving her the right money; when you take bribes you have make sure the person paying the bribe isn’t ripping you off.  Michele turned the dome light on and turned her head towards the cop and started to say,

“How much?” when she glanced down and saw the policeman’s stubby fat penis sticking out the front of his uniform trousers.

“Well I won’t be long honey; I haven’t had any for ages,” the cop chuckled and reached out and pulled her head into his lap.

Michele was horrified; it finally dawned on her what he had been talking about all this time; she had completely misunderstood his intentions.  These thoughts sped through her mind just as her lips came into contact with the man’s fat smelly cock.  Michele sputtered and tried to move her head but the heavy cop held her down.

“Suck it good babe; come on,” he moaned; and he pushed down harder and Michele had no choice but to take the appendage into her mouth.

Michele sputtered and blubbered trying to spit the fetid member out of her mouth.  Her efforts to get away from the cop’s penis in fact stimulated the glans of his organ as Michele’s lips and tongue lashed at the stubby little cock trying to spit it out.  The cop pushed down so hard on her head that it hurt, and at the same time he pushed upwards, lifting his fat arse out of the seat; Michele had to open her mouth or choke and as she did the whole of the diminutive fat member slid inside her mouth and started to convulse and throb.

Michele gasped as a torrent of semen filled her mouth and then she started to gag.

“Don’t you spit it out bitch!” the cop warned, holding her head down in his lap.

“Yeah baby that’s it; swallow it; oh fuck you’re good! Suck it baby; suck it! I’m coming; oh yeah,” another stream of obscenities issued forth from the policeman as he ejaculated into Michele’s mouth.

Michele was helpless; held over the cop’s small throbbing cock as it continued to flood her mouth with sperm.  She had no choice; Michele swallowed.  The policeman’s secretions were not actually that foul; they tasted musty and creamy.  She sucked and swallowed knowing she had no choice.

“Ok baby; daddy’s finished now; just lick it clean and I’ll be on my way,” the cop chuckled.

Michele realised the worst was over; she licked the fetid member clean and swallowed the last of the cop’s secretions.  The cop lifted Michele’s head out of his lap and leaned over and kissed her full on the mouth before she had time to react.

“Thanks hun,” he whispered in Michele’s ear; then zipped his fly and struggled out of the passenger door.  He walked away towards his police car and waved over his shoulder without glancing back,

“Drive careful now sweetheart,” he shouted and climbed into the police car and drove away.

Michele sat there stunned; she couldn’t believe what had just happened; not only had that fat smelly, little dick cop raped her mouth; she was rock hard in her panties.  What the fuck was going on?

To be continued………………………………………

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hence The Name

h4x0rLuvZSex on Erotic Poems

Hence my name, call my cry, take me to the moon.
The pain is fine, the pleasure is great, take me with I will be cumming soon.
Chant those words, the plagued one words, that get me wet and twisted.
Lick me soft and kiss me slowy, make sure you can handle this.
Call my cry and make me scream, as the ecstasy prevails.
The concretes cold, make me love you, scars in the ground from my nails.
I love the strife, make me cry, the pleasure I give to you and yours.
The cum I let go, it gives me relief, makes me feel as if even I can soar.
Anywhere may fit this night, in the bed or in the tub.
I love those words that call my cry, hence the name my love.




Willing Hostage Part 1

M. Twain on Forced Stories

I’m being held hostage, but not against my will. I know that sounds funny and maybe I should start at the beginning.

Not trying to sound obnoxious or self-absorbed, I’m drop dead gorgeous. I’m not bragging, it’s a fact. I am of Spanish and Italian decent. I’m 5’5” tall with straight, shiny, black hair, almost to my waist. My skin is a light olive color, my eyes almond shaped and a deep emerald green. My facial features all compliment each other to perfection. I have 36DD breasts on a small frame that measures about 24” at the waist.

You would think that a girl that looked like me would have the world by the balls but that was not the case. I quit college after two years because I was bored and felt I could catch

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the man of my dreams on looks alone. I entered the work force and got a job as a legal secretary at a prestigious downtown law firm. You would think that being around lawyers I’d be able to snag a great husband, but I was so beautiful and self-absorbed that the men who weren’t too afraid to asked me out would soon tire of my self-centeredness. Soon enough, word got out in legal circles that I was a stuck up bitch not worth the time of day. Even my fellow secretaries avoided me.

I had very little social life, and when I got horny I would hang out in the bars of fine downtown hotels hoping to meet a successful business man, or at least have a one-nighter with one.

About a year ago, I was working late and decided to hit a bar and see if I could get lucky. I hadn’t been laid in almost two months and I was hornier than hell. I left the office a little after 8pm. It was late September and already getting dark. I got into my Honda Accord and cruised a few blocks to the Four Seasons. I found a place in the lot just a short walk from the hotel and shut off the car. I was checking my make-up in the mirror when a conversion van parked in the space next to mine. It was white with gold pinstripes and the windows were darkly tinted making it impossible to see inside. It was almost full dark now and nobody exited the van, making me nervous. I slid over to the passenger side and exited through the passenger door so my car was between me and the van. (Better safe than sorry) I looked at the van and detected no movement. I spun on my heels and half walked - half ran to the hotel.

I made my way to the bar and, damn the luck, it was almost totally void of customers. The only patrons in the place were two old codger business types who barely took the time to ogle. I sat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver. I told myself to take it easy as it looked like I would be driving home tonight. Maybe one more after this and then get something to eat. I hadn’t eaten since noon and I was famished.

I asked the bartender to turn on the news channel and removed my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. About half way through my drink I noticed out of the corner of my eye that somebody else had entered the bar and was standing one seat away from me. He ordered a scotch on the rocks and told the bartender he would like to buy the young lady a drink if she would accept.

I heard him order and thought he might be drunk as his speech sounded slurred. The bartender stood in front of me and conveyed the man’s desire to buy me a drink. I accepted. When the bartender set my fresh drink before me I spun my stool around to thank my benefactor.

I drew in a sharp breath as I raised my glass to the stranger and our eyes met. He was a big man, about 6’4” tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He was nicely dressed but he was hideous looking. His head was badly misshapen and bald reminding me of that character Shrek. His face was scarred on the right side causing the corner of his mouth to droop on that side. His right nostril was almost completely shut and his right eye was red and watery looking.

I was able to maintain my composure as I thanked him for the drink and then turned away from him to watch the news. After about ten minutes, I heard the stranger ask for another drink and offer to buy another one for me. I was only halfway done with my present drink and didn’t want to feel obligated to converse with this hideous creature, so I spun on my stool and told him I had to go after this one, holding up my half finished drink to show him I wasn’t ready for one anyway. I then excused myself and headed for the restroom area.

When I got into the ladies room I laughed quietly out loud. Imagine me and Shrek out there hooking up, I snickered to myself. What a Beauty and the Beast story that would make. I was warming to the liquor and didn’t really want to leave, but there was no way I was going to spend the evening talking to that ogre. I would drive closer to home and have a couple more drinks nearer to my apartment. I checked my make-up in the mirror and ran a brush through my hair. Perfect, I smiled to myself and exited the ladies room.

I went back to the bar and hurriedly finished my drink. I shrugged into my jacket, nodded to the stranger, and offered another mumbled thanks before exiting the bar. As I made my way through the hotel lobby my head started to swim. I must have drank that second drink too fast I thought to myself, remembering that I hadn’t eaten since noon. I exited the hotel and made my way through the parking lot to my car. My head was swimming and my eyes were having a hard time focusing. I reached my car and fumbled in my purse for my keys. Damn, you should have had them in your hand already, I admonished myself. I found my keys but couldn’t seem to get one into the lock. I dropped them and bent over to pick them up. Suddenly the world went black and I could feel myself falling backwards. The last memory I had was a pair of hands catching me before I hit the pavement.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when I came to I was lying on my back and we were moving. I waited for my head to clear and realized I couldn’t move my arms. I raised my head and noticed a thick leather belt around my midsection, my hands manacled to it at my sides. My legs were spread eagle and fastened to the sides of the van, a piece of duct tape over my mouth. Unable to move, I tried to scream. All that came out was a high pitched hum behind the tape. I heard a voice from the drivers seat say rather casually, “Relax, we still have a way to go.” The voice sounded slurred and recognition came to me in a rush. I had been kidnapped by Shrek. I struggled against my bonds but it was no use. I couldn’t move any of my extremities more than an inch or so. I tried to see out the windows but saw nothing. No trees, no buildings, nothing. I couldn’t even tell if it was night or day because of the tinted windows. Again my memory came rushing back. The van in the hotel parking lot!

I lay there asking myself why. Did somebody pay to have me kidnapped. Not too many people liked me, but would anybody go this far? Was it random? My stomach growled from hunger and my throat felt dry. How long has it been since I left the bar? I dozed off again. I don’t know how long I slept but I woke up when I felt the van stop. I heard a creaking noise outside and tried to scream again. Another high pitched hum. The van began moving again and then stopped about a minute later. I heard the driver get out and then the back doors opened. Sun poured in and I squinted my eyes. Daylight!! How far had we driven and where the hell was I?

He freed my ankles, then grabbed them and dragged me out of the van until my ass was at the tailgate. He grabbed my shoulders and sat me upright. I was right. It was Shrek. “Welcome home,” he said with a lopsided smile.

We were in a garage with the overhead door wide open. There was a beautiful home about a half a mile away surrounded by a well manicured lawn. The house seemed to be perfectly centered on the lawn. The property was surrounded by a wall which was surrounded by woods on all sides. I saw animals in the distance running about the property. At first I thought they were horses but then realized they were dogs. Dobermans! About a dozen that I could count. It all seemed so peaceful.

I was pulled from my reverie by his slurred voice. “My name is John,” the Shrek thing said, stepping in front of me. “I’m going to take the tape off of your mouth in a second. If you scream, no one will hear you, and your reward will be a new piece of tape. Do you like the taste of duct tape?” he asked.

I shook my head no.

“Good, let’s see how well you listen.” He grabbed a corner of the tape and ripped it off.

I felt a terrible sting as the tape was ripped from my mouth. “”You lousy son-of-a…“ WHACK, the side of my face went numb and my head rocked backwards.

“You’re in no position to get ugly young lady, you will learn manners and obedience. What’s your name?”

“Gina” I spat out, tears running down my cheeks.

“Very good Gina. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He helped me to my feet and led me to a work bench in the garage. “Do I need to manacle your feet Gina or are you feeling cooperative?”

“I’ll cooperate,” I replied, not seeing any other option. He opened a drawer in the workbench and pulled out a very sharp looking knife with a six inch blade. I froze, tears running down my cheeks. I begged him not to kill me.

“I’m not a killer Gina,” he said cordially. “Now stand real still so there isn’t an accident. He bent over and I felt the blade of the knife against my skin as he shoved it under my pant leg at the ankle. I closed my eyes and heard a soft tearing sound as he slit my pants from ankle to hip. He went to the other side and did the same. My pants fell to the ground leaving me in the red silk panties I had worn in hopes of getting lucky the night before. I felt a blush rising on my skin but he didn’t seem to notice. Two quick flicks of the knife blade and my panties joined my pants on the floor. He pulled my blouse out from under the thick leather belt and unbuttoned it. A couple more cuts with the knife and my blouse floated to the floor behind me, joining my pants and panties. He finally cut my bra straps and pulled it from my chest. My tits sprang forward in all their glory.

He stepped back, my bra still in one hand, the knife in the other. He looked me up and down and whistled. “You are probably the finest young woman I’ve ever seen outside of magazine.” he said admiringly. He dropped the bra and took one of my breasts in the palm of his hand, hefting it as if trying to guess it’s weight. He circled around behind me and gave me a gentle shove between the shoulder blades forcing me to bend forward. In spite of all that had happened, my body was betraying me as I felt a drop of my own pussy juice running down my leg. His hands were probing my ass cheeks and then I felt one of his long thick fingers push easily into my sopping wet vagina. He moved his finger out and in a few times and my body quaked with an explosive orgasm. My knees buckled and I felt his hands go to my hips, holding me up.

“Why are you doing this and what do you want with me? I asked, my voice quivering.

“I like to make love to beautiful women,” he replied. “Unfortunately, beautiful woman no longer want to make love to me because of this,” he said, pointing to his face. “Ironically, it was a beautiful woman who supposedly loved me that caused my disfigurement. She’s rotting in prison for the next forty years but that doesn’t give me my looks back. I have taken you as my bride.”

“You mean your sex slave.” I interrupted.

“You can call yourself my wife, my sex slave, or my hostage. I don’t care. I am going to remove the belt now and release your arms. It is useless to try and get away, though I don’t doubt you’ll try it at least once.”

He undid the leather belt from behind and my arms fell forward under the weight. He pulled a key from his pocket and undid my wrists one at a time using his knee to support the weight of the belt. When I was freed I rubbed my wrist to get the circulation going. He opened a small refrigerator that was sitting on the workbench and handed me a Snickers bar and a can of Diet Pepsi. “This should hold you until we can get some food into you. I hungrily gobbled the candy bar and drank the Diet Pepsi down in huge gulps. When I finished he put his huge hand on the back of my neck and said simply, “C’mon.”

We walked out of the garage and he turned to shut the overhead door. Seizing the opportunity, I made a beeline for the house screaming at the top of my lungs. I was hoping somebody would be there to save me from this maniac. John let out a shrill whistle and I was immediately surrounded by a dozen growling Doberman’s. One nipped at my thigh puncturing the skin. I fell to the ground and curled up in a naked ball expecting to be torn to shreds. When I opened my eyes, to my amazement, the dogs were sitting quietly in a circle surrounding me.

John came forward laughing. He walked through the circle of Dobermans and picked me up by the waist as if I weighed no more than a rag doll. “Rule number one Gina. When I’m on the property I need only whistle and these dogs will bring anything to bay, man or critter. If you freeze or drop to the ground, they will simply surround you and wait for my command. If you had continued to run, they would have brought you down. And Gina, just so you know, if you’re outside the perimeter of the house when I’m not around, they will tear you to pieces.”

“Now let’s get to the house. By the way Gina, you were running in the right direction. That house is mine, and yours too now. You are welcome to enjoy all the amenities and live the life of Riley or you can fight it and be miserable. It’s your choice.”

“My thighs bleeding,” I said, holding up my leg for him to see.

“That must’ve been Buster,” John said nonchalantly. “He gets a little overzealous. Let’s get to the house and Paula can take a look at it."

So we continued on to the house. John leading, me in all my glorious nakedness, following.

Paula???

 

Dolly's Check-Up!

woolywombat on Forced Stories

DOLLY'S CHECK-UP 
 
  
 Visiting hours were over, Stan Witcoski was leaving the Wyattville General Hospital
after seeing his favorite uncle, Harry Barson. As he walked up the ramp to the foyer, he saw
Dolly Hamlin. Dolly who was the Director of Nurses at the hospital was a platinum haired, blue
eyed beauty of mature years. She carried her 5' 2" frame in a regal posture that showed off her
spectacular figure. She weighed about 135 lbs and sported a rack of 38DD tits. Her ass was
round and firm for her years and she knew she turned heads where ever she went.
   
 Stan caught his breath when he passed Dolly as she walked down the ramp. Jeez! What
a broad! What a
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tasty piece of ass she would be! He was developing an obsession about this
woman he had just seen for the first time. Dolly smiled at Stan as she passed him and he felt his
balls tighten up. He HAD to have this woman! He started to formulate a plan to enjoy that
voluptuous body on his own time.

 As the days wore on, Stan visited his uncle at least once every day and sometimes twice. 
He thoroughly checked out the hospital and learned about it's nooks and crannies. He cultivated
a friendship with some of the hospital personnel, particularly Terry Wilson, a black CNA who
helped care for his uncle. When he casually mentioned how good looking Dolly was and what a
fine piece of ass she would be, Terry agreed enthusiastically. And with that the plot was hatched.

 Terry showed the men the greatest find, the vacant doctor's office at the end of the west wing. 
He found that it was a simple task to get into the empty space. He saw the scattered left over
furniture from the previous occupant. The former tenant has thoughtfully forgot to remove a
break bed in an isolated exam room. This was where Stan would satisfy his carnal desires to
fuck Dolly Hamlin's eyes out.

 Next he had to figure a way to get her alone so he could work he sexual magic on her. He
was known to his friends as a inveterate cockhound. He had had more women than most men
twice his age. He was a muscular, handsome young man who knew what women liked and he
knew how to have them savoring after him. Any girl he had ever fucked wanted his large 9 inch
cock again. He was very proud of his cock. While it wasn't as long as some monster cocks, it
was as thick as his wrist. It so stretched and widened the cunts that he screwed that the feelings 
he caused made them feel totally filled and satisfied.

 After a week, he came up with his plan. He would steal a doctor's lab coat and
stethoscope and ambush her when she left work for the day, at about 3:30 PM. He would use a
stun gun to disable her near the door to the outside and to the vacant doctor's office. If he could
get her immobilized and quiet on the break room bed, he could leave and come back when the
hospital was calmed down for the night shift. It was a good plan, and he was sure he could pull it
off.

 He could almost feel how her tits would feel, how her cunt would respond to his thick
cock, how her ass could feel as he massaged her firm cheeks. He made the mistake of telling his
best friend, Mace Wayne about this hot momma that he had stumbled on to at the hospital. After
Mace had accompanied Stan to the hospital, he too wanted a piece of Stan's discovery.

 He asked Stan if he could use a back-up for his plan. Stan considered it and agreed that Mace could have sloppy seconds ,if everything went right. Mace had a truncheon that was more formidable than Stan's. While not as thick, certainly longer. A real pussy lengthener. Stan and Mace figured Dolly would get to enjoy a double dose of real men's fuck engines.

 The two picked F-Day to me the next payday at the hospital. Dolly distributed the paychecks to all the staff. She did the incoming morning shift and the out going night shift at 6:30AM, she waited for the incoming evening shift until 3PM after which she left for the day. The hospital started to wind down after payday in anticipation of a quiet weekend. With the incoming evening shift the place would be almost on skeleton staff. Not much chance that their fun would be interrupted.  

 The day finally came! The boys were as hot and horny as two rutting bucks. There balls were full and hot. Time passed slowly as they waited in the vacant office. At precisely 3:22PM, Stan put on the doctor's lab coat and stethoscope and wandered into the opposite hall from where Dolly was due to appear. As he walked toward the side hall through Dolly would have to go to reach the outside door, she appeared as if on cue. He reached the side hall slightly before she and turned down it absent mindedly. As she rounded the entrance to the hall, he turned and struck. ZZZAPPP!! The stun gun sent a high voltage shock through Dolly's shoulder. She gasped and started to slump to the floor. Mace seeing his tableau from the vacant office rushed to help Stan drag the helpless woman into their lair. They quickly got her into the exam/fucking room and duct taped her to the bed frame in a spread-eagle posture. They place a piece of duct tape over her eyes and mouth. After they were satisfied that they had secured their prey, they left for a beer and a burger to flesh in their plan for enjoying the lush woman they had just abducted.

 At about 6PM, all was quiet after the supper hour in the hospital. The two studs returned to have their way with the beautiful body of Dolly Hamlin. As they entered the exam room they noticed that Dolly had regained consciousness and was struggling with her bonds attempting to free herself from the situation she found herself in. To no avail, however, she only succeeded in twisting them tighter. Stan chortled at her failed efforts and said to her, "Relax, lady, you can't get out of them. We'll let you go once we're through with you."

 With that, the boys began to strip Dolly down for the fucking that was to come. Stan popped the buttons on her light jacket. Having come prepared, he then opened his knife and cut the from the center of the jacket down the sleeves and slid the garment from underneath the terrified unseeing woman on the bed. Next, Mace cut and ripped the blouse from her body. When they saw her heavy, rounded breasts encased in her tight minimizer bra forcing her tits into gorgeous cleavage, they glanced at each other to signal the upcoming good time. Not wanted to waste time, Stan slid his knife under the center of her bra and with a smooth deft movement sliced the bra in half. Dolly's bra sprang apart and her gorgeous globes lolled out upon her chest. Mace could not control his lust for these fantastic tits. He dove down on the helpless Dolly and grabbed her left breast and pulled and squeezed. His mouth covered her right nipple and he sucked greedily. He teased the nipple with his tongue and felt it engorge, stiffen and harden. He ran his tongue around the pink aureola and felt it swell to his touch. This woman was responding and he was certain that when they really got started, she would cooperate.

  Just about this time, there was a knock on the locked door. Mace opened the door and in walked Terry Wilson, chomping at the bit to be inon the mighty fucking of Dolly Hamlin!

  "Oh! WOW! You got almost ready! Jeez, she's beautiful! Look at those honkin' tits! I'm a stiff as a steel rod right now...I can't wait to drill my cock into her!"

 Stan glanced at Mace working the woman's tits and smiled. He soon would have a pussy to work with and he had great plans for the event. Dolly's slacks were being sliced down each leg and pulled from underneath her as her blouse had been. Only her pantyhose stood between her and complete nakedness. ZIPPP! Now they were gone. The men stood back and admired their prey. 

  Dolly was having a difficult time breathing with the duct tape over her mouth and was trembling with fear and anticipation. Her chest and tits were heaving and she was still struggling to get free. The excited duo went quickly back to the task at hand. Stan rubbed Dolly's pussy mound with his hand and was slightly surprised to find it already wet. He slid his finger into her cunt and found it satiny and slippery with fuck juice. Then two fingers, then three fingers. He said, "She's wet already and hot to fuck, buddy!". 

 "Come over here, Terry. Check this out. J'ever see anybody get this wet so fast?"

 Dolly was making uummph, uummph, uummph sounds beneath the duct tape covering her mouth. She was breathing heavily and having a hard time through her nostrils alone. Stan ripped the duct tape off snarling, "if you scream, lady, you're dead!". Dolly's sounds changed to "Ohhhh, Ohhhh, Ohhhh!" as the two worked her into a state of sexual frenzy. Dolly's head rolled from side to side in time with her moans. Her cunt became wetter and wetter as she moved her pelvis in fucking motions. Stan's maddening fingers kept massaging her clit and pussy ring. She moaned in ecstasy and pushed up to help his fingers do their magic work. All along, Mace and Terry worked her tits. Squeezing, kneading, tweaking and pinching and pulling her erect and stiff nipples. Mace had brought a small bottle of baby oil to the session and went about drizzling a slender stream in a random zig-zag pattern over Dolly's stomach, tits and chest. Terry slid his hands sensuously over ever square inch of Dolly's voluptuous body. Over her chest and her rising mountains of quivering tits, over her slight little paunch of her abdomen, over her smooth thighs, over her lightly haired pubic mound. 

  Every nerve ending in Dolly's body was screaming, "fuck me!, fuck me!, fuck me!" . She had become a quivering, trembling woman who wanted fucked, no, needed fucked, NOW!

 Throughout Dolly's warm-up both Stan, Mace and Terry were sporting raging hard-ons and their lust knew no bounds. Stan finally could not stand waiting any longer. He jumped on the bed and pushed Dolly's legs apart and began sliding his large cock up and down her soaking slit. Over her clit and along her swollen labial lips his cock was driving her insane. Then he slowly lowered his mushroom headed flesh bar into her wet and waiting cunt.  

 She felt her cunt mouth stretch as his cockhead widened her for his complete possession of her body. The feeling had always been so exquisite and Dolly had always reveled in the compete submission to a man's cock that the feeling brought on.

  OOHHHHHHMPH! Dolly exclaimed as he stretched and popped through the hymenal ring into her soft, wet and grasping warmness. As he bottomed out in her cunt, bumping up and elongating where her cervix used to be, she threw her pelvis into a frenzied humping. "Ooohhhh! Oooohhh! Oooohhh!" Stan pummeled her cunt with forceful thrusts that hammered her back onto the bed. Stan and Mace had planned the fuck fest with great care and now they were enjoying every moment of it. From the sounds coming from Dolly, so was she! Pumping her ass up to meet Stans every hammering thrust and moaning and mewing is cadence with her fucking, there was no way she wasn't loving every second of her rape.

 As Stan's steely cock pumped to the limits of her silky, slippery fuck sheath, he lengthened and stretched it to unheard of dimensions for Dolly. Stan asked Mace to release her legs. And when he had, Dolly instantly raised her knees and wrapped her legs against the back of his thighs and tried to pull him even deeper inside her. She felt these new and wonderful sensations in her belly and the wave of pleasure washed over her entire being. "Give It To MEE! GIVE IT TO MEEE! she wailed. Orgasm after orgasm swept her. "Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhh!" As she came, her cunt walls alternatively grasped and relaxed along Stan's big cock. To him, these sensations were more intense and much better than the young stuff he was used to. This chick was the great fuck he had thought she would be. 

  Her tits rolled on her chest matching every 8 or 9 inch pounding of his cock as he filled to her limit. Her head rolled back and forth. Stan would like this to go on forever, but he could feel his balls begin to tighten up and he knew that he would be cumming soon. He slammed into her cunt with renewed vigor and felt the boiling semen start it's passage to the center of Dolly's being. Aarrghh! Aarrgh! He shouted as the hot sperm bath shot from his cock and bathed the walls of Dolly's cunt with amazing force and heat. When she felt this she too exploded with another earthshaking orgasm and together they soared into the stratosphere.

 As lay, exhausted on top of Dolly's likewise spent frame. They both continued their fucking motions and a much reduced rate and intensity. Sliding slickly slowly in and out while his cock deflated, he reveled in the wetness and luxurious feelings around his cock. As he dismounted from Dolly's steaming pussy there was a distinctive "pop" as his cockhead cleared the spasming entrance. Spent fuck juices of Stans's jizm and Dolly's lubricating fluids seeped from her cunt and onto the bed in a opalescent "cream pie." Dolly lay still and blown away by the frenzied fuck she'd just endured.

 It was now Mace's turn to experience the softness and satiny feel of her cunt lips and her fuck tunnel. He scrambled to take Stan's place between Dolly's spread legs. Her cunt lay open with her purple and pink labial lips open like a beckoning flesh flower and had not yet returned to it's normal dimensions after her fucking. Still oozing fuck fluids, it was well lubricated and prepared for The onslaught of Mace's long cock. He worked his cock up and down her slit, stimulating her clit and the muscle ring at the back of her opening. She whispered, "Do it! Fuck me! Do Me! Please!". He lowered his muscular body and swiftly skewered her to his hilt with his cock.

  "Oooohhhhhh!" Dolly sighed as he took her. She started to move even before he did. Pushing her pussy up and raising Mace's body upward as she tried to get the most cock possible into her cunt. She wrapped her legs around his back as she had with Stan and tried to pull him deeper inside her cunt. Her tits were swollen from their squeezing and pummeling and her nipples were erect and stiff.  

 Her bountiful tits rocked up and down on her chest as Mace plowed into with a frantic rhythm. The fuck noises emanating from the couple were like a wet freight train. The fluids left inside her had provided the friction free ride of a lifetime for Mace. He flew in and out of her cunt with the speed of a dog fucking a bitch. 

  Dolly could not keep her breath as she tried in vain to keep up with his piston like thrusts. Ooohhh!, Ooohhh!, Ooohhh!, she gasped! In what seemed like only minutes, but was really about fifteen of them, Mace,s cockhead swelled, he stiffened and blasted a monumental load of cum into Dolly's cunt. 

 Again, she felt the hot bath of cum splash through her cunt and she came with a rush that astounded even her. "OOOOOHHH! OOOHHH! OOOOHHH! GODDD! OH, MY GODDD! Mace kept cumming and Dolly matched his fire with her own! He suddenly just collapsed on top of her and lay there draining his cock of every last drop of semen left in his ball It now was Terry's turn. He had lusted after his gorgeous, voluptuous, platinum haired boss from the moment he first aid eyes on her. He had fucked 98% of the white women of the staff of the facility and now he going to "BLACK" the boss!

 As much as Stan and Mace's cock were formidable trunchons, Terry's was a real cunt customizer. A full nine or ten inches long and round as a beer can...it could really stretch a cunt to memorable proportions.

 Terry moved above Dolly prepared to mount his prize and tailor-make her cunt to want a repeat fucking whenever he desired one. Dolly lay there, her legs spread obscenely, silver creamy semen leaking from her pounded cunt, looking dazedly up at the man who would make her a black cock hunter for the rest of her life...and...GAVE IT UP!  
 Terry's mighty cock rubbed up and down a few times to coat and lubricate for the perfect penetration he planned for his lovely boss! Then, as slowly as he could, he wanted to have her indelibly imprint this moment in her brain, began to rent her cunt to accept his giant black cock!

 Dolly felt it the second his huge swollen cockhead touched and started to push her cunt lips apart. OH! MY GODD! IT'S SOOO BIG! She thought! It will rip me apart. AND then, she felt it pop past her vaginal ring and now he was INSIDE her! Her cunt expanded as she felt the burgeoning pressure against the walls of her cunt. God, it felt sooooooo GOOD!

 Terry was taking his sweet time in possessing his prize. He worked his cock slowly into the squirming beauty beneath him. The residual cum from the prior fuckings served to provide luxuriant lubrication for his black truncheon. He relished the feelings around his thick cock as it re-bore Dolly's cunt for future fuckings. The vaginal rugae or ridges reluctantly gave way to smooth out as the steely invader drove home to the core of the gasping woman.

 As he finally reached the bottom of her velvet channel, he rested lest the exquisite sensations forced a premature orgasm. Dolly was thrilled by the continuing sensations emanating from her cunt and from deep inside her.

 At last the orgasmic tremblors subsiding, Terry began to seek his fucking rhythm that which had driven other white women to near hysteria.
Dolly came to wallow in the alternative stretching and elongating of her vagina. "Ohhh! Terry! Terry! FUCK MEEE! Ohh, so good, sooo BIG!! Ohhh!"

 The walls of the fucking room reverberated with wet sounds of Dolly taking the monster cock of her ravisher. "Ungg, Ungg, Ungg. Ungg, Ungg, OH MY GOD! Ungg!. Ungg!"

 Terry leering down at his writhing beautiful conquest, punctuated his strong thrusts by saying, " You like my black cock, Mrs H? You like it? I'll bet you'll even like it better the next time...and the next time! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!"

 Dolly's beautiful muscular legs were spread to their maximum, her feet pressed flat on the bed and she was forcefully driving her cunt up to meet Terry's fuck log as he hammered into her vaginal vault and customized it for any future fucks they might enjoy!

 The soaring sensations inside Dolly's cunt were about to drive her stark raving mad! Although stretched and lengthened to a degree she had never felt before, she wanted more! More! DEEPER! DEEPER! HARDER, TERRY! HARDER!!

 "I WANT ON TOP, TERRY! Let me ride this wonderful cock of yours!
Almost instantaneously, Terry flipped the gorgeous blonde over and suddenly she was riding on top of his towering truncheon. Dolly, by slamming down on his cock and compressing and flattening her puffy cunt lips was able to hammer another 1/4 " into her throbbing channel.  

 OHH! Ohhh! Ohhh! UGGH! UGGH! OHH Terry! GIVE IT TO MEEE! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH GOD! OH GOD! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! GIVE IT TO ME! OH! OH!"
Dolly was in seventh heaven as nerve endings in her cunt, tits and ass fired off with almost continuous rapidity! Her climax went on and on for several minutes before she actually collapsed on top of the totally winded and exhausted Terry Wilson!

 It appeared that there is a biological limit to how long and how intense sexual stimulations and orgasmic release can persist, and both Dolly and her black lover, Terry had reached that Rubicon!


 Eventually, the three sat down and admired Dolly, her tits, her belly, her cunt, her legs, and particularly her face. She was beautiful in every respect and they had fucked her eyeballs all but out. She had that dreamy "just fucked" look and made no effort the get up to release her still taped hands or to escape. She simply lay there breathing fast and deep Her cunt oozed a silver creamy ribbon of semen.. She looked like she could take a little more, the two men thought.

 Stan suggested that while it was still early, maybe they should try a double donging. Mace agreed and claimed the back door of her ass and Stan could fuck her cunt again. They undid her taped hands and told her they would allow to go once they fucked her one more time. Dolly weakly shook her head and prepared for the onslaught. Mace lay on his back on the bed with his new stiff truncheon sticking up like a rocket on the launch pad. Stan told Dolly to crawl up on the bed and put Mace's cock in her asshole. Dolly had never experienced anal sex before and was hesitant.

  As she slid down and settled on his hard-on, Mace dipped his cockhead into the dripping juices from her pussy and rubbed them on her asshole to lube his way inside her. The juices made her asshole slippery as glass and surprising her his slender cock slid right in clear to the hilt. Next, He reached up and cupped her enormous tits and pulled her back toward him. She felt his long cock in her bowels and felt strange erotic sensations start to happen. Then, Stan crawled up on the bed and inserted his cock into her yawning cunt hole. 

  Now she was doubly impaled. One cock in her ass another in her cunt. She had difficulty telling the sensations of a double fuck apart. Was that shiver from the cock in her ass or was it from the one in her cunt. It all felt wonderful to Dolly. She couldn't move very well in this position, so it was all up to the men to provide the movement. So they set to work. Each timing his in stroke to match the others. Each in turn lifted Dolly to new heights. She felt filled , completely filled with cock. Her head now lolled on her shoulders as if her neck had been broken. Her smile was half lust and beatified ecstacy.  

 Over and over she orgasmed. Over and over, the men beat into her body. The without saying anything, Stan cried, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!", stiffened and shot his load into Dolly's cunt. Within seconds, Mace followed with another blast of cum up Dolly's ass. Dolly did not want the feelings to stop and she kept almost jumping up and down on the men's cocks. First Stan pulled out, no pop this time. Dolly's cunt was stretched and extended to new dimensions that would take some time to return to normal. The men wiped their swollen and reddened cocks off and did their best to clean Dolly's dripping orifices. They dressed and threw Dolly the doctor's lab coat that Stan had worn. She shakily wrapped herself in the lab coat and was quietly helped out of the abandoned office and led her to her car. Making sure that she knew where she was the men ran to their hidden car and quickly fled the scene.

  Dolly sat still stunned and uncomprehending for 30 minutes or so before fumbling for her key. She started her car and very cautiously drove home. She met Rob in the doorway and kissed him. He noticed there was an aroma about her that he could not place. He did not associate that aroma from the four hours of rampant sex that Dolly had just endured.


  And after she had taken a hot bath and let the hot soapy water wash over her swollen and traumatized labia, wash into her raw vaginal walls, sooth her stretched and sore anus, it served to revive the memories and the pleasure. She gingerly fingered her open cunthole to allow the soothing water to enter her and wash out the fuck fluids still inside her. She tried to open her asshole but it was still too tender. Her tits felt wonderful under the warm water. She gently pinched her erect nipples and felt the rush of the strange men's hands working her tits into hardened excitement. She luxuriated in the bath for over an hour. When she emerged, she toweled her body and dressed for bed. Meeting Rob in the bedroom, she lovingly kissed him on the cheek and pulled the bedclothes over her. She had the memories and they were hers. She would not share them with Rob, or anybody else. They were hers and so they would be forever.