Lost (her) Will(MC, YOUNG TEEN-OLDER MARRIED FEMALE, MF, Blackmail, or)
** WARNING** ADULT MATERIAL!
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY!
ALL CHARACTERS ARE imaginary AND TOTAL FANTASY
FINGERPRO
(Authors
note: I prefer MSWord but also provide Html based. Originally posted
as Mind
Maul – Revised and completely reworked in this story. Comments welcome
Lost
Will
1.
First Hand
It was
her day off and she decided to spend it shopping. She loved to shop in the mall; there were so
many things to look at there. As she was
window browsing she realized she was being observed. At first she thought it was her imagination
and then later she knew it for certain.
A round plump teenager was watching her.
She'd seen him someplace before.
She realized then as she spotted him in the center of the mall that he
was the new kid that had moved into her neighborhood. His name was....Bobby something; she didn't remember
his last name. She did, however,
remember the geek looking kid who came around her house when she was working
outside last week. This kid and Bobby
were one in the same. She remembered
telling her husband that she thought the new kid that lived in one of the new
luxury style condominiums, several streets away, might have a crush on her. Her husband's response was that she shouldn't
consider that a bad thing, besides she was the prettiest forty four year old on
the block anyway. When the young man had
come over on his bicycle he had hung around for a while. She had gone about her activities outside
without too much more thought, but kept up with the polite conversation with
the youth. She enjoyed entertaining the
younger generation and when she did she felt some of their youthful feelings
spill over to her. There had only been
one group, a malicious group of teenage boys, who had ever exploited that
feeling she had of wanting to help them and be an older friend and aid. She had found out, first hand, how sometimes
the hormones of these teenagers were stronger than their moral convictions and
she had suffered greatly because of that.
But, as the old saying went, time had a way of healing old wounds. Just listening to the kid she was talking to
now she had found out that he was just starting at the high school and it was
difficult starting with a new school.
The conversation always seemed to come back to her and she found herself
giving the kid her name and what she did for a living, and on and on. It wasn't until the kid excused himself and
she was about to go back in the house that she realized her blouse had opened
and she must have put on quite a show for the youth. Thankfully she'd been wearing a bra,
sometimes she didn't, but she had this time even if it was a loose unsupportive
one. Still, it was flattering to think
that a kid his age found her to be attractive enough to want to peer down her
blouse at her.
Typically when she was window shopping her
mind wandered. That was one of the
little pleasures she had experienced when she went window shopping. It was the case on this particular late
spring afternoon as she suddenly lost interest in the youth tailing her (she
refused to think of it as stalking because he was simply too young for
that). As had been her habit before,
often times she found that her window shopping turned into actual shopping
especially when a mood change struck her.
It was funny how the spending mood came over her and her mind seemed to
focus more on what she was wearing and more on what she could be
wearing. Her husband had called that a
‘female thing’ which she sometimes thought was derogatory. Still her mood had changed.
She wasn't dressed right, she knew, she
just wasn't sure what it was that was wrong. Perhaps a skirt and blouse outfit, yes that
should answer the problem nicely.
The housewife and mother decided on a black skirt and found when
she tried it on that the hem line was too long.
She decided to try a skirt that had a little more cling to it as well as
a shorter hem line, closer to her knee's would be better, slight above her
knees would be best she thought. She
finally settled on one that was snug around her hips but flared at her thighs
allowing her freedom to move her legs rapidly when she walked. She really hated the tight skirts that were
tight all the way to the knee's, but this skirt also had a hem line that was a
good two inches above her knees; usually she found these skirts to be too
“showy”, as she wasn’t a trim woman, although she did have the legs for it, she
still felt that “proper” was better than showy.
In this instance, though and for some unexplained reason, it seemed much
more appropriate that the skirt be of the higher hem design. She tried on and modeled many blouses too. The blouses were always a little too tight
highlighting her large breasts and that was something she knew she should
avoid. But it seemed every blouse she
really liked fit a little on the snug side so she decided a jacket might
compliment the skirt and blouse. The
jacket hid the extra love handles at her waist and also made it possible for
her to show a hint more cleavage than she would have felt comfortable showing
without the jacket. Next she knew she
needed new shoes. The old lady shoes she
wore now barely had a heel to them. She
was uncertain as to why her shoes suddenly seemed to be “old lady” style, but
she just knew that they were. She didn't
want something spiked, but something higher would be nice. She finally settled on an open toed strapped
three inch point high heel. As she
modeled the shoe in the shoe store and in front of the mirror she noticed the
shoe salesman as he complimented her on her choice and then recommended
something extremely high and with spikes.
He recommended them with the added thought that maybe her husband would
like to see her in them too.
After she modeled those very high heels,
wobbling around the shoe store floor with some amount of difficulty she decided
perhaps her husband would like to see her in them but she also didn't want to
be wearing them in the mall. She bought
them and took them with her. She had
felt flushed when she realized that the shoe salesman was complimenting her
legs as well as her choice of high heels.
The spikes would require some additional breaking in, perhaps she could
get used to them, but she certainly couldn’t go wobbling around the mall in
that high of a heel! No, they were
better suited for when she was out flirting, or perhaps in the bedroom. That thought, of the bedroom, high heels and
the instant flash of gartered hose made her blush in self reproach. Still it was a flattering thought to realize
that even at forty four she could make boys, as well as men, turn their heads
when she put on a really high pair of heels.
She went out into the mall and sat down at
one of the hard cold stone seats in the center of the concourse not realizing
until after she had sat down that she had positioned herself next to the geek
looking neighbor kid that had been following her around. Sitting there she almost felt as if he were
undressing her with his eyes. He was
young enough to be her son yet she felt strangely uncomfortable as he observed
her. Finally she broke the silence and
said,
"Why
have you been following me around Bobby?"
"I
haven't been, Mrs. B, it's just we're in the same area."
This was true she reflected. Maybe she was too harsh in her evaluation of
the kid; maybe, then again maybe not.
She caught him looking up her skirt.
He had moved because of her sitting down next to him with her
packages. Now he sat across from her as
she tucked her skirt in closer to her thighs trying to cover her exposure to
the hot eyes of the youth. He smirked,
or leered, she wasn't sure which. She
thought about getting up and actually leaving the mall but there was something
nagging at the back of her mind like an itch she couldn't scratch and kept her
sitting there. It was really an odd
feeling.
"Looks
like you changed your clothes since you arrived.....though," he said
adding the last word almost like he intended on carrying on more of the
conversation.
"Ye-yes,
I-I felt uncomfortable in what I was wearing," she replied, stammering.
It was the truth, but again her mind asked
herself why she would bother to tell that to a hot eyed teenager. It
bothered her, too, that she stammered, almost like she was guilty of
something. She should get up and leave,
but she didn't. She momentarily
reflected on that. Was it that she
didn’t want to leave, or she couldn’t leave?
The thought momentarily paralyzed her and there was actually a slight
fear building up inside her that she no longer was in control.
"You
look very nice in your new look Mrs. B."
"Why
thank you
"You
could use some make up, though, don't you think? I mean you really are all dolled up, and a
little more make up would compliment you're already very attractive
appearance."
She frowned at the statement realizing he
was right. She would feel more
comfortable in more make up. She looked
around and saw a mascara booth in the center concourse of the mall and then
turned back to Bobby and said,
"You
know you are right. I think that's
what's been bugging me. Would you mind
watching my stuff while I attend to your, eh, suggestion Bobby?"
"Not
at all Mrs. B, help yourself. I'll just
wait right here and maybe when you get back you won't feel quite so shy about
showing me more of those pretty legs of yours."
"Why
thank you Bobby," she said as she blushed and stood up. She appreciated the compliment of a youth so
young and yet so polite. She went over
to the mascara counter and purchased the needed make up. She did her eyes with shadow and highlighter. She did her eyelashes with lengthener
darkener. She purchased red lip stick,
much redder than she usually cared for but she felt the need for risk, she
wasn't sure why. The lip stick went on
wrong twice and she had to redo it twice until it was rather heavy. Returning to where the young man sat she felt
better. The tickling, nagging feeling of
something not quite right was gone. She
suddenly felt comfortable sitting across from him and then she realized in some
amount of personal surprise that she had deliberately pulled her skirt up to
reveal half her thighs to the smiling young man. He was still a geek, but he was at least a
polite geek. Besides her husband had
said she was pretty and that it was ok to do a little flirting with the kid.
She realized she no longer felt
uncomfortable with the kid watching her.
In fact she appreciated
his attention. She could almost feel his eyes as they scoped
out her legs, exposed above her skirt hem and, she knew, her upper hose tops
exposed when she deliberately crossed her legs letting him see a shapely pair
of upper thighs. As she sat there
momentarily at a loss for words she felt something strange down below. God, she hadn't felt that way in years! She was getting a nervous tickle, a turn on
for her. Then the effects of the early
morning orange juice hit her and she said,
"Bobby
could you watch my stuff for me? I need-need to use the restroom and soon!"
"Certainly
Mrs. B. I'll wait right here until you
finish what you have to do."
She frowned getting to her feet as she
felt her skirt fall back over her knees.
It wasn't what she expected him to say.
Finish what she had to do.... Well she had to go to the bathroom
that was sure! She never quite made it
either, peeing her pants just before she sat down on the pot and exploded with
a stream of pee. Her soaked panties
weren't any good any more and even as she fretted about not having her panties
on she felt a twinge again down below.
Sitting there in her own private stall she wiped herself a second time,
then a third. Then she discarded the
tissue and used her fingers to fondle herself.
She felt herself getting hornier and hotter as she fingered her clit as
she sat on the pot. This was a first for
her! Sitting in a public bathroom and
masturbating! The thought made her blush
and she was about to quit it, even though she felt her pent up emotions ready
to bust. Maybe not a full blown climax
that would be too embarrassing, something smaller, and just to ease off some of
then pent up tension. She continued to
frig herself, rubbing her clit as she did so, her legs spreading out in front
of her. A wave of pleasure engulfed her,
taking off some of the hardness to her sudden arousal. She blushed sitting there, realizing she’d
had a mini-climax in a public rest room!
The pressure, the need for sex was still there, but at least she had
released some of the overhead steam a little, maybe enough so that she could
function in an appropriate manner.
After
all, she reflected almost with a tinge of guilt, she was still in a
public area. She quickly covered
herself even if her useless panties no longer were a help. Her nipples felt hard and she slapped her
breasts trying to make them go down but the twin peaks just refused and stayed
hard; little nubs on her big round protrusions obvious, even to her, as she
stared at her obvious arousal in the mirror of the bathroom. She threw her panties in the trash and washed
her hands. Grabbing her purse she headed
for the door and just before she got to the door she realized how wicked she
felt. God it was a turn on to feel her
hose pull on her upper thighs, her heels making her bottom swing against the
skirt; it was the fact that her naked bottom rubbed up against the skirt and
she was highly aware of her big boobs swaying from side to side, feeling the
hard nipples rubbing her bra; it was so vulgar and oh so sexy!
2. Two
Rides
She couldn't help herself as she walked
back to where the young man was waiting with her purchased items. She realized as she walked that most of her
purchased items were on her own body and that the items that Bobby was
"guarding" were actually the clothes she came to the mall in.
"Bobby
do you have a ride home?"
"No
I don't Mrs. B. and thanks for offering.
Maybe we can stop by a friend of mine's on the way home."
"Yes,
yes that sounds like a great idea Bobby.
Let's go to my car, ok?"
"Sure,
I'll carry your stuff, Mrs. B.."
"Why
thank you Bobby," she responded.
It wasn't that far out to her car and as
she walked she felt his eyes on her as he walked behind her. She could almost feel those hot beady eyes
tracing a path across her swinging rump and she delighted in her little
flirting by swinging her hips from side to side as she walked feeling the skirt
sway against her legs as she walked.
She realized as she started the car that
she was feeling pretty good with herself and the complimentary young man was
all eyes as she let him see the tops of her hose. She looked over at him, just before starting
the engine, and made sure he could see her, then slowly and with a deliberate
intent pulled her already rather short hem up past the tops of her hose to her
unclad thighs above. She looked over and
saw the youth swallow as he looked. She
smiled inwardly as she realized he liked what he saw. It made her feel real good to know she was
pleasing the young man. Even as she
thought that she corrected herself; it wasn’t just that she was pleasing a
young man but she was pleasing to this young man! A small warning signal went off in the back
of her mind as she continued to flaunt her legs to the boy. She considered herself a reasonable, intelligent,
adult woman. Yet, here she was flirting
with a teenager, even egging him on with a wanton display of her legs, and
instead of feeling embarrassed by it she was actually feeling a turn on. Something wasn’t quite right, but she
couldn’t identify what that something was.
Momentarily, she pushed the thought away as she then started the car and
even hiked the skirt a half an inch higher as she looked over to see a
perceptible bulge in the youths trousers.
Yes, he was looking, she knew for certain now. She felt good that she could show him
something that he might appreciate, even if she was an older married woman, and
he was a young man, young enough to have easily been her son. She left her skirt hem high, feeling the need
to flirt, as she drove down the highway making with the light conversation and
pleased that Bobby was so interested in her daily activities. His eyes, though, wandered from her face to
her exposed thighs and then back again.
She could feel her own heart thumping in her chest in response. She was so glad she was still desirable!
It was so very amazing; it was almost like
Bobby knew what was going to happen. He
had recommended stopping at his friends place.
The friend was an older guy who was an excellent mechanic. Her car had been giving her troubles and
Bobby sounded so convincing about his friend being such an expert mechanic that
she felt compelled to let his friend take a look at the car. His friend was indeed a little older than
Bobby convinced his friend Al, right in
front of her that it would be ok for the two of them to wait while Al looked
over the car in the back room, the room that Al used for a flop room when he
was tired. The room didn't have any windows
in it, only one door and only one table and a nightstand. There were no chairs, only a small cot
against the wall.
She sat down on the cot noticing with some
amount of pleasure that Bobby maintained his distance and even seemed a little
embarrassed. She decided she was going
to flirt with the kid some more and showed him a lot of leg this time as she
leaned back and let her skirt hem climb to just short of the tops of her hose. Bobby looked, but turned the conversation
around to her car saying that Al would look it over and maybe even fix it for
her free of charge because Al owed him some favors. She sat there deliberately crossing, then
uncrossing her legs causing the skirt hem climb higher and higher. She maintained a smile on her face but there
was also a thought of wonder in her mind; wonder over the way she was acting
around a teenage boy! After all, she
thought to herself, she was old enough to be the kid’s mother, yet here she was
flirting with him like some sort of lovesick school girl! Then she wondered what this kid could do for
the slimy looking Al. It didn't make
much sense but then his interest in her, an older woman, didn't make much sense
either.
He told her again that she had really
pretty legs and that pleased her beyond anything he had said so far. Vaguely she remembered having heard him say
that before to her but it had been under different circumstances. She was pleased that he was so aware of her
flirting with him and she was even more pleased and turned on when he told her
he thought it was really a nice thing to do by trying to turn him on! He was telling her some nonsense about how
shapely women, such as her, often had back problems. The back problems he explained almost
casually were because women with her size boobs often displaced their efforts
and it resulted in back pain, he said it so matter of fact that she had to
fight to repress a grin. She already
knew she had big boobs and that the sheer size of her boobs caused her back
problems. It was kind of funny, in an
innocent kind of way that the kid deliberately kept from being open about his
references to her big breasts. He told
her he'd read up on it extensively and even showed her a surprising technique
he had learned. Merely by rubbing the
top of her thigh he was able to relieve some of the actual stress she had been
feeling. She was intrigued by this and
commented that she was very interested.
He told her to just relax and let him touch her where she normally would
be upset, but if he did it while touching another part of her body at the same
time it would act as a relaxant and she would feel immediate results. If she didn't she could just tell him to stop
it. She realized as she agreed with him
to go ahead and give it a quick try that he was on the cot next to her and she
wondered about that because she couldn't remember when he had actually come
over and sat down next to her. She
should have remembered that because of the connotation of her being an older
woman and him a virile young man, sitting on a cot together in a closed
room! Just then his fingers found the
magic button just under her left breast and also on her inner right thigh. She gasped as she felt the tension slide away
and she thanked him for his efforts.
When he suggested that perhaps he should stop she actually begged him to
continue and he told her that the only way for him to "go to the next
step" was if she were topless. She
hesitated for only a minute then stood up and took off her jacket, following it
quickly with her blouse. She unfastened
her bra thinking of the tension release as she sat down next to him and let him
manipulate her nipples.
She
began to relax and to become excited at the same time. She was sure that something wasn't right but
she couldn't concentrate on just what that elusive something was. Bobby expertly worked the tension out of her
body by rolling her twin orbs around and hefting them in his hand. A part of her mind told her this was entirely
“wrong”, this boy feeling her boobs up, treating her boobs like meat in
the market. At almost any other time she
would have felt degraded and more than a little humiliated, but this boy
had some kind of weird tolerance about him that made it seem so….natural.
It wasn't long afterwards that she began to become even more excited by his
other hand which was busy stroking her private area. In a matter of a few minutes she was no
longer thinking of tension so much as she was of sexual release. A kid as young as Bobby couldn't possibly
think of her as being someone he'd want to be with, or could he? The thought turned her on even more and
within a few minutes she didn't care what anyone thought. She leaned back and pulled the young man on
top of her as she spread her legs. She
also worked at his fly, almost desperately as she finally got the fly down and
his surprisingly large penis out of the confines of the youths shorts and
pants. It took very little effort on her
part to guide him into position. It came
as a shock to her as she felt his hard penis penetrate her wet pussy.
God
she was turned on something fierce!
She
hadn't been this hot in years. It must
have been entirely because of the relaxing technique the youth had used on her,
she thought, as she screamed out the first of four intense climaxes. The first climax had been generated by the
way the young boy had positioned himself over her. He had used one of his arms to hold his body
away from her own and while he used the other arm and hand to fondle her big
breast. She had been completely unwound
by the boys charming hands and the feeling that she was giving herself to
someone who by rights would have preferred much more younger and supple girl
and not some older married woman like herself.
It was a real pleasure to feel her legs open and the boys form plummeting
up and down over her. She felt herself
actually loose control in wild abandonment that she hadn’t felt in a very long
time as she felt Bobby’s erection drive home in her slippery hot love hole
while she hooked her heels in the cot’s low posts and made several powerful thrusts
towards the boy who so completely satisfied her.
Her second intense climax had developed right after Bobby started
sucking and licking her breasts, as he rolled fully on top of her. She could feel the strain of her gartered hose
as he thrust deeply into her, his body moving over her in a pleasant, almost
soothing way. It was almost as if he
could read her mind, she realized, as he switched boobs and sucked the other
nipple to full arousal and hardness, trapping her swollen nipple between tongue
and teeth almost in an experienced kind of way.
She couldn’t believe a young man with so little in the way of experience
could foster such feelings of complete satisfaction with an older woman, yet
here she was not only engaging in complete sexual union but lewdly enjoying the
encounter as if there were no one else around.
Her third climax had come as a result of their shifting positions with
her on top, slamming her hot wet body down on his fertile youthful shaft and
enjoying the feeling that she was attempting to masturbate him, as well as
herself, by using her pussy as a moist wet glove over his long loving shaft of
pleasure. The feeling of her boobs
bouncing in his face, the loving tenderness of the youthful mouth on her
aroused nipples, the action of holding herself away from his crotch while she
pumped her own body up and down over his thick hardness caused her third
powerful climax resulting in a moan of pleasure. Her favorite position, one which she told him
in loving terms, was the doggie style with his fine hardness penetrating her
pussy from the rear. The slow,
methodical in and out action that the youth adopted from this penetration with
her leaning forward and one of her big boobs being held by the youth was enough
to make her climax for the fourth and last time. She was covered in sweat as she climaxed, not
a true orgasm because of the fear of possible discovery, but an intense
satisfying climax none the less. She
also was rewarded with the pleasure of knowing she had satisfied this youth as
she felt his organ expand inside her and then shoot almost like a toy water gun
as he sprayed his ejaculation deep inside her.
She wasn’t sure why she felt so completely satisfied by the boy climaxing
inside her but she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that this final act, on
his part, had allowed her to achieve a rather intense, very stimulating
climax. After it was over, she barely
remembered putting back on her blouse, over her sweat covered upper torso and
then barely managing to get her jacket over the blouse. She saw her bra lying off to one side, just
as Al returned to the room and she quickly hid the garment under the mattress
of the cot. She wasn’t sure why she had
reacted quite that way, perhaps it was the fear of being caught doing something
illicit with a boy so young, or perhaps it was sheer embarrassment over her own
actions. She managed, she realized with
some relief, to actually have accomplished the hiding of the garment before the
quick hot eyes of
Later, after she had dropped
3. Obsession
Revealed
His name was Bobby Pope, she had found out
from her son and he wasn’t fifteen like she had thought, but seventeen. Still, seventeen! She’d given herself in an adulterous affair
to a seventeen year old boy, younger than her own son! It shocked her. She looked into her mind, as she went about
her daily activities, almost robot like.
Buried deep, she found that the warning flag had gone up, she had an
opportunity to stop flirting with the boy but
something
had
overridden her inner warning.
There were three things in her mind that
totally confused her. First and foremost
was the sudden feeling that her bra didn’t feel right. She tried on at least four of them and all
the bras gave her the same ugly feeling; it wasn’t until she went braless that
she felt somehow normal and as it should be. Right behind that first thought was the
nearly constant image of her bouncing up and down on the rigid organ of Bobby
Pope. Her big boobs bouncing as she
lifted and dropped her body over the youths form. Her nipples hard, swollen in excitement, her
face red and flushed, and her breathing short and in
quick little gasps. That image made her
feel both sluttish and guilty at the same time.
For some reason she couldn’t get Bobby out of her mind. He wasn’t that attractive, in fact the poor
kid was kind of homely, chubby and overweight.
Yet, she admitted to herself, she’d had sex, adulterous sex, with this
teenager! She knew she had to address
the issue with the young man, she didn’t want this going any further and she
knew that the next time she met him he would be more than a little interested
in what she had to offer. The third
thing in her consciousness was the near guilt feeling. It was almost as if she wanted to do
wrong around the boy; wanted to feel sluttish; wanted, no something more,
something totally perverse, something like
needed
to be with
him. She knew she’d have to explain to
the boy that it was over, but even as she thought these thoughts, she realized
horribly that this wasn’t what she really wanted!
She decided to work off her frustrations;
it had always worked in the past and she fervently hoped it would work now.
It was late spring time and she needed to
plant some flowers she’d purchased as seedlings. The early sprouts needed to be put in the
ground so they would flourish. Her hands
were dirty, like her soul, she reflected absently when the youth named Bobby
Pope arrived. She immediately felt her
heart give a flutter and wondered at that.
There was something about this youth that she interacted with and she
couldn’t figure out what it was. She
would have gladly gone into her work, but she was off for two weeks and she’d
started off the two weeks by having an affair, brief though it was, with a
teenager
! That thought she tried to keep in the
forefront of her mind; he was only a teenager.
“Can I
help Mrs. Bergman?” he had asked as he had gotten off his bike, which he had
rode up on and then advanced to where she was sitting on the ground next to the
porch planting the last of a half a dozen flowers.
“Sure
you can Bobby, if you want to, besides, you and I have something to talk
about. My son will be leaving; then-then
we’ll talk privately, ok?” She tried to
make it sound light hearted, tried desperately to keep the fear, the anxiety out
of her voice and was even pleased with herself at her success.
“Not a
problem, Mrs. Bergman, I’d be glad to help,” said the alluring youth.
That thought crossed her mind,
momentarily, why was he alluring to her?
She couldn’t fathom where that thought had come from but it was there
overriding her consciousness; almost overriding who she thought she was.
Moments later her son came out of the
front door. The door made a loud
slamming sound that made her jump, startling her out of her personal reflection,
as she felt her big boobs bounce beneath her loose blouse. She immediately looked to see if Bobby had
observed and saw that he had. Instead of
feeling exposed, as she knew she should have, she felt a kind of perverse
pleasure.
“See
you later mom, you too Bob,” said her son as he strode quickly to his car.
“Yeah,
you too Mike,” said Bobby.
“When
will you be home, son?” she asked on a suddenly very dry throat.
“Don’t
expect me before this evening, ok?”
“I
won’t then,” she replied smiling to her son and waving. She knew that by waving as she was she was
wiggling too. Her son was either too far
away or really didn’t care. Bobby, however,
got a front row seat to the wiggling of her big boobs which were obviously
braless beneath the loose blouse top.
She went back to planting, as Bobby
helped. His arm brushed her naked right
breast. She should have pulled
away. She should have taken that
opportunity to bring up the subject of their affair. She did neither and what was more shocked
even herself as she leaned down applying even more pressure on the boys
outstretched forearm, letting the full weight of her naked breast beneath the
blouse fall over the boys extended arm and even roll off his arm as her big
breast wasn’t capable of being supported by the skinniness of the boys arm.
“What
kind of plant is this?” asked the youth not removing his arm, grinning
and enjoying the feeling of her breast being lopped over his arm.
“I…I
be-believe it’s called a…Mexican Sun Flower,” she responded.
“Does
it go by any other name, Mrs. Bergman?” asked the youth.
“Yes,
it’s got a …. Funny kind of vernacular name…called a boob plant.”
“Ah,
but not as pretty as your boobs,” he replied pulling his arm away as she felt
her boob released and fall by gravity away from his arm.
“Yes,
well, Bobby… that was the last of the plants.
We-we need to go inside and talk now.”
“Good,
Mrs. Bergman, and maybe you can change into something more suited for your
looks.”
Images of sex ran through her mind.
Where are they coming from?
Am I that desperate?
“Let’s-let’s
just go inside, ok, Bobby?” she stammered out trying to get herself
under control.
“Sure
thing, Mrs. Bergman,” replied the friendly youth. He was a caring friendly youth and she felt
bad even as she led the way into the house that she was going to have to hurt
him. This had to stop!
She closed the door after he’d entered and
turned and for the first time saw the black strap around his neck and angled
across his body to a black leather pouch.
“What
is that, Bobby?” she questioned as she could almost feel a fog pervade her
mind. It was a disconcerting as she felt
her resolve slip away.
“Why
it’s a camera, you were going to pose for me remember, Mrs. Bergman?”
She remembered! God, she’d asked him if he wanted mementos of
their “relationship”! That thought
shocked her, because up until right now she hadn’t remembered it. Something was very definitely wrong with her
something she couldn’t put her mental finger on. She chewed at her lower lip as she realized her
sudden change of mind.
She had to use all of her will power to
get out the words!
“I-I’m
not so….sure-sure that would be….a good idea, Bobby.”
“Why,
don’t you like me any more, Mrs. Bergman?” he asked almost too naively.
“I-I…
care for you a great deal…. I don’t know what’s come over me… lately.” She
replied stammering her reply and realizing horribly that whatever mental battle
she was waging she was losing and losing horribly.
“I will
always be here for you Mrs. Bergman, you know that.”
“Ye-yes,
I know you will Bobby,” she responded and did indeed realize he was there to
protect her, if only from herself.
“You
know older married women, such as yourself, often feel the need to go….well
outside of their normal routines….I provide a safe measure for them because I…
well I’m sort of a guardian, if you know what I mean.”
“You…you
mean…this isn’t the first time you’ve…..been around mature ladies?” she asked.
“Very
well put, Mrs. Bergman. What’s more I
enjoy being around
you
!” replied the youth.
She was losing! God she did feel protected around him! She needed a guardian against herself
too. How had he realized that? The question momentarily bothered her before
she blurted out of nowhere her major concern,
“You’re
not a slam-bam-tell it all man, then?”
She blushed right after she said it
realizing it was put so crudely and with a great deal more vulgarity than she
normally would have thought let alone say!
“Certainly, not, Mrs. Bergman!
I wouldn’t take advantage of an older married lady that has so many
needs!”
“Wha-what needs do you-you think I have, Bobby?” she asked
realizing she hadn’t sat down since she came in and this entire conversation
had taken place in her own front room.
“The
need to feel wanted, the need to feel feminine, the need to feel you are
guarded and protected, the need of surrender.”
“Wha-what do you mean ….surrender, Bobby?”
He stepped forward and lifted her right
breast. He hefted the breast flesh
beneath her blouse, rolling her breast around and fingering her nipple and she
let him! She let him and she almost
sighed and collapsed in front of him.
“The
kind of surrender that you need and more importantly
require,
the kind that only I can give, Mrs. Bergman.”
She had lost. She knew now she would do
anything
this young man wanted of her!
She felt him withdraw his hand and as he
did so she crossed her arms in front of herself, highlighting her naked boobs
beneath. There was a flash from his
camera and she smiled provocatively. Her
blouse came up and as it did so, she saw through her blouse another flash and
then another as she stood topless before the youth in her front room. She took off her shorts, then her panties,
and three more flashes. Then she posed
by placing her hands on her knee’s and leaning forward letting her naked boobs
hang from her body while she smiled as sexy a smile as she’d ever put on her
face. The flashes continued while she
changed from one position to another.
She fondled herself in front of the young man and there were more
flashes, she fingered her hot box and felt her juices flowing. More flashes and more pictures of her doing
her masturbation routine which only seemed to heighten her need for sex instead
of satisfying her desire.
She sat next to Bobby, stroking his
hardness. In her right hand there was
something hard too. She realized it was
the remote button he had given her for the camera. It was like she was on some kind of drug; she
was even taking picture mementoes of herself!
It gave her a perverse excitement to know she was doing this to herself
as she stroked Bobby’s big, erect penis.
She looked into the camera lens and placed her mouth down over his big
penis head snapping off a shot. She knew
the picture would show her mouth over his erect cock head as she sucked it and
she was pleased. She pulled her mouth
off his big cock and waited while Bobby cupped both of her big tits around his
erection snapping off a shot of him cupping her tits and jug fucking her. There were more than a few of these before
she engulfed him with her mouth again, sucking, enjoying his cock like this was
the most pleasure she’d had in her life.
She sucked deeply and when he moaned and climaxed in her mouth she took
three more rapid shots of his spunk invading her mouth and oozing out between
her lips still clenched around his cock head.
He took her sexually on the bed (for the second time), not
forcefully, not like a teenager trying to get his rocks off, but gently and
with a great deal of attention towards her needs. She came four times before it was over. She realized then that she was more involved
with this youth than ever before. She
realized too that she would do anything to keep him, anything at all.
After he had left, somewhere around five
in the late afternoon, she lay in her own bed fondling herself, half crying
half moaning. She was perplexed. She had intended on cutting off the
relationship but instead she’d given herself into the relationship with the
youth more than ever; what was worse she’d sucked his penis until he came and
then swallowed it. She would never
had swallowed her husband’s sperm, but she had this
child
!
She continued to fondle herself until she
climaxed again. It wasn’t nearly as
intense as what she’d experienced with Bobby.
After she awoke from her little nap, still quite nude, she dressed.
She was
convinced now she had to be with Bobby!
No more would she fight it; she’d do whatever the youth wanted her to
do! She blushed as she remembered the
photo’s she’d taken of herself pleasing the young man with her poses, her
mouth, her body!
God, she was perverted! She felt
suddenly sickened by her own perversity, but then remembered that she could
lose Bobby if she didn’t keep him happy.
Her stomach churned at both the thought of giving up her relationship
with the young man and what he had implied he wanted from her. He was her guardian she knew, but acting like
she was his “pet” or his “girlfriend” made her ill. In a way, she reflected, Bobby was the one
that had allowed her to experience, for the first time, true sexual
freedom. True, she was bound to him
through her obsession to be with him, but she had never had sexual release like
what she had with the youth. He seemed
to know exactly what she needed and then, yes then, he would deliver. Not like some other men she’d known who were
merely interested in how much she could show of her anatomy or how much
pleasure she’d deliver them.
Bobby delivered pleasure to her and she knew it. She also knew she must never displease the
youth. She must make an effort to wear
the clothes and the make up he liked, even though she felt like a tart, it
didn’t matter because she could not lose the relationship she felt with Bobby.
4. Obsessed
or Possessed?
Tuesday was just like Monday. It was a fuck day with her and Bobby
and she realized that this was the way it was meant to be. She enjoyed modeling for Bobby, both in and
out of clothes, and what before had been a distracting annoyance now became
something she needed. She needed
to be fondled by Bobby when her boobs were dangling and she was naked in front
of him; she needed to have her pussy lips caressed in only the way Bobby could
do it and she needed his pleasing cock deep inside her pussy satisfying her.
She
was his slut and she was proud
of it. It was while he was pleasing
her, deep inside her and sucking on her nipple that he stopped to tell her that
he wanted something special from her tonight late.
“Are
you my slut, truly Sara babe?”
She had allowed him to call her that. No one else could call her “Sara babe”, she
hated it when others tried to and she told them about it. But with Bobby it was different, because
first she was his slut and second she loved him deeply.
“Yes
baby, I love you,” she responded as she wiggled her hips and felt his hard on
move inside her, pleasing her, touching her special area and driving her crazy
with lust.
“Think
you could prove to me you’re my slut, Sara babe?”
“Anything,
anything you want, honey, name it and I’ll do it.”
He did too. Sara wasn’t sure about it, hesitated, but
with his total commitment to her she realized she’d have to prove she
was his slut. To be a slut and to act a
slut were part of the deal and she knew it.
Bobby had made it quite clear that this wasn’t going to be a one time
thing. If she was a slut for him she’d
have to prove it to him on an on-going basis.
If she truly loved him and wanted him inside her then that was one of
his conditions. Even the thought now of
Bobby rejecting her made her feel terrible.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to live if Bobby ever decided she wasn’t his
to do with as he pleased.
Somewhere
in the deep recesses of her mind she realized how terribly wrong these thought
patterns were, but in the forefront of her mind she had so little control that
she realized she was acting almost out of conditioning; but more than likely
desperation. It was distinctly possible
she was desperate in her endeavors to keep Bobby happy.
Previously, when she had reluctantly
agreed to his suggestion, he had made it quite clear that reluctance on her
part wasn’t acceptable. He said this as
he was rotating her big right breast with his hand while he slowly slid in and
out of her saturated pussy. He licked
her neck just under her ear lobe and she wondered about that.
How did he know where her most erotic
zones were at?
With a lovers
knowledge of her inner most being or was there something there that she
couldn’t put her finger on? Even as she
experienced a
very
intense climax she did wonder at his
foreknowledge of her inner most secrets.
To her awareness she’d never told him….at least she couldn’t remember
ever having told him what those zones were with her…but the nagging persistence
that if she didn’t please him she would lose him was enough to
drive her both over the edge of physical climax and loss of her will power to
succumb to both his wishes and his “requests”.
Sara knew, now, that she had passed some kind of mental threshold, some
kind of barrier, because she was now willingly a part of Bobby’s world; she
welcomed it, embraced it, wanted more of it and
had
to have
it! Even as the teenagers
penis spewed forth his sperm deep inside her she agreed to do what he
wanted. Strangely, she didn’t feel lost,
she didn’t feel manipulated, but she did feel accepted.
Bobby left her in early afternoon. His presence, somehow, was still with her
though. Sara could almost feel it. It was an experience very much like having
had an intense orgasm and the feeling afterwards….a sort of sense of
accomplishment; a sense of belonging and satisfaction.
Bobby had selected the sheerest set of
hose she owned. She reflected on that
momentarily as she was putting on the first hose over her legs and pulling it
tight up close to her naked uncovered crotch.
Soon, very soon, she would prove her loyalty to Bobby, by showing
someone else she was his slut. It made
her feel warm, slightly embarrassed, and very erotic to use those terms in her
mind; Bobby’s slut. She examined her full
figure leg, slightly plump, but rippling with well used muscles as she smoothed
out any wrinkles in the hose and made sure the hose was secured at the
top. She realized as she put on the
second set, on her other leg, that these garter belt supported hose were the
same ones she’d picked out when she was with Bobby at the mall. She tightened the second, her right leg, hose,
smoothing it out over her leg, feeling her exposed naked nipples touch first
her bare skin then the hose surface and feeling those nipples immediately
react; hardening and becoming quite aroused.
Making
sure the hose were complete she slipped into the medium high heels. These were not the very high, fuck me heels,
that Bobby liked, only the medium high kind.
Medium high, she reflected almost absently, medium high. She realized suddenly she would never have worn
four inch spiked high heels before she’d met Bobby. But Bobby was like that, he brought out what
made her feel the sexiest. She walked
around the room, experimenting with the new heels, feeling both the
uncomfortable tightness in them and the elevated sense of being thrust
upwards. At first it was an awkward
feeling she hadn’t experienced in years, and then like a sudden bolt of
lightening she realized she’d missed that feeling, knowing deep down
that high heels were actually the worst thing for her legs and feet. She could feel her thighs, her calf muscles
tightening, as she experimentally walked around the room in them. Then she went over to the dresser and looked
in the mirror at the face that stared back at her. Yes, she certainly was made up! Bright red lip stick and a heavy application
at that, complimented her white, almost pale she thought, skin. Her eyelids were tinted in a dark blue, and
the black around her eyes accented the roundness of her eyes. Her face make up almost screamed “tart”, but
she realized this was the look Bobby wanted from her. Sara looked at the clock on the wall and
swallowed, knowing it was almost the time.
The clock indicated that it was a quarter past eleven. Looking out her window, from behind the
blind, the street in front of her house was dark. It was close to
She was to go to the end of her street, close to the main thorough
fare and wait. She was to be nude
beneath the trench coat, wearing only garter belt supported thigh high
hose. She was to wait for five
minutes. A car would arrive and the driver
would know her name. As she walked down
the street, towards her goal, her heels clacking and clicking on the cement
pavement, she reviewed all of this information in her mind. She was to appear to be Bobby’s slut. If the car and driver didn’t show up at the
designated time she was to walk to the nearest southern intersection and wait
an addition five minutes. If the driver
and car still didn’t show up she could go home.
She was to appear to be Bobby’s slut.
The thought made her tingle.
There was also a fear of discovery.
She didn’t want to meet anyone out here that she might have to later
explain to. The idea of the suggestive
clothing she wore was enough to make her shiver. If the driver and the car showed up and the
driver knew her name she was to go with him
and do anything he wanted
. Anything meant a lot, Sara knew, but she also
knew that the way she was dressed, or in her case not dressed, was enough to
convince anyone she was an available commodity.
She was Bobby’s slut.
Sara
still tingled at the thought as she reached her destination and slowly paced
back and forth waiting for the car and driver.
There had been a part of her that wanted the car and driver to
come along while she waited and another more perverse part that didn’t. When after waiting closer to ten minutes than
five, Sara realized she was going to have to walk the two extra blocks, nude
beneath the trench coat, to the southern most intersection. She was Bobby’s slut. Her heels clicked and clacked on the cement
pavement, like before, as she walked.
This time, however, there was more of a resolve in the way she walked,
more determination than the timid way she’d approached the first point. She wasn’t any more reassured than she’d been
before, but she realized as she walked, the cool air whipping in under the
trench coat hardening her already very hard nipples, that there was more of a
possibility that this was merely a test….not some actual mysterious rendezvous
with an unknown man.
There was almost a sigh of relief as she
got to the intersection seeing the intersection, with the traffic light,
empty. No cars around,
and no cars appearing from anywhere she could observe. She was Bobby’s slut. She walked carefully around the edge of the
intersection before moving slowly off to one of the buildings. She didn’t want to linger at the
intersection, portraying herself as some kind of hooker,
instead she wanted to blend in as much as possible. She was Bobby’s slut. The continuous awareness of that thought, of
being Bobby’s slut, kept her somewhat moist down below and also aggravated an
already uncomfortable situation. Sara
was nude beneath the trench coat and the added moisture of her slight arousal
sent a shiver through her, forming goose bumps on her skin. She reached the shadow of the building, her
mind having started the count. Five
minutes, she realized was a long time, a very long time, three hundred
seconds. She could count from three hundred
and fifteen, the fifteen extra just to make sure she wasn’t counting too fast. She began he count down as she walked out of
the shadow of the building and back to the intersection. Reaching the intersection she turned back
towards her origin.
She had
counted down to two hundred ten. She
felt wicked, she felt excited, she counted down to two
hundred, when a car came up to her on her left side. She’d been down just under two hundred when
the dark car rolled to a stop. She heard
the hum of the electric motor of power window moving. The man’s face was hidden in the darkness of
the car’s interior.
He said
the fateful words,
“Get in
the car, Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara swallowed and froze. This was the moment of truth. She was Bobby’s slut. She walked around behind the car to the
passenger’s side door, hearing the motor whine of the power window as it went
back up. Her hand reached out to feel
the coldness of the metal of the car. Sara
was highly aware of her surroundings; fearfully so; not knowing what to expect,
other than she was to do as she was told.
She swallowed on a very dry throat.
Instead of the fluid motions she usually had, she noticed in this
heightened state of awareness, that she was jerky and hesitant about every
move. She lifted the handle to the car
door and swung it open. Sara closed her
eyes, took and deep breath, and then moved
inside. She felt her trench coat part as
she sat down, revealing the whiteness of her middle thighs. Before closing the door her hand moved to
cover the near gleaming of her white skin in the darkness but beneath the
street light.
“I like
looking at legs, even if they are a bit chubby, leave it open,” said the harsh
male voice.
Sara swallowed nervously. She nodded, too scared to talk, then reached
over and closed the door to the car with a thud. She was Bobby’s slut. She needed to prove it. She sat there a moment then looked over at
the dark face to her left. She couldn’t
make out any facial features. She wasn’t
even sure she knew this man. He appeared
to know her though, judging by his next comment,
“Seen
you around some, got quite a set on you, don’t you Mrs. Bergman?”
Was it all going to be crude?, she
thought.
Am I going to be subjected
to
something near rape?
Her
mind was filled full of these thoughts as she summoned some of her resolve and
said,
“I-I’m
sorry, but do I know you?”
“Maybe
you do…then again maybe you don’t,” he responded in his harsh voice, then he patted the bench style seat close to him and said,
“Scoot
over closer, no need to hug the door, eh Mrs. Bergman?”
Sara swallowed nervously. She hesitated only for a second, then moved closer, her trench coat opening even more. She reached to stop it, then froze feeling
his hard hand on her wrist preventing her from doing what she had intended.
“I told
you before Mrs. Bergman, I like looking at legs, even if they are chubby, like
yours.”
Sara clamped down on her teeth as she felt
the hand move off her wrist to her exposed middle thigh. He rubbed her nylon covered thigh flesh and
she felt suddenly very cheap. She was
Bobby’s slut. The thought allowed her to
feel better as the man’s hand continued to move from her knee to where the
trench coat parted, about her middle thigh.
“Much
firmer than I thought,” he said almost in a whisper, as his hand moved from one
thigh to the other, “soft though, nice, real nice. You know how to stroke a man, Mrs. Bergman?”
“Ye-yes,”
she stammered out, then reached with her right arm
across her body.
“Use
your left hand, Mrs. Bergman,” said the harsh voiced man.
Sara half nodded. If she used her left hand he’d have easier
access to her exposure. She lifted her
left hand off the seat cushion and placed it on the man’s rough right pant
leg. Closing her eyes, she forced her
hand to move towards his crotch. She
found the soft, pliable, member there, evidently unfettered by underwear. She squeezed his organ gently. It swelled and became more aroused. Using her finger tip she traced the length
and as much of the girth of the swelling organ as she could, feeling his
expand. She knew she was exciting him,
she knew it because of his obvious arousal.
She squeezed the end, the head, of the penis as it grew, not hard, but
enough to apply pressure. Instead of
feeling degraded by what she was doing to a strange man she felt somehow more
wanton, but not in a cheap way, more like she was meeting the need of the
situation.
“Wha-what should I call you….?” She asked in a low voice as
she felt the man’s hand move under her trench coat closer to the tops of her
hose. She stiffened when he did, and
squeezed his aroused organ perhaps a little too much.
“Easy, there honey, easy with the meat.
Just call me sir, for right now, ok, Mrs. Bergman?”
“Very
well…sir,” she responded as she now pushed with the palm of her hand against
the very aroused, thick, and still stiffening penis the man sported between his
legs, knowing that he hadn’t liked her sudden jerk on his penis “meat”.
His hand withdrew than came back to
unbutton the third button down on her trench coat. Sara swallowed and continued to slide her
hand up and down the still hardening member realizing in some amount of shock
that this man’s penis was bigger than she had thought and he was still getting
a hard on!
Sara felt his hand flat on her trench
coat, then slide along to the opening he had made by unbuttoning the third
button down. She closed her eyes as she
felt his rough hand slide inside her trench coat and touch
her sternum just between her naked boobs.
The mans hand rubbed to softness of her skin near the sternum with a
movement towards her right side, sliding over the soft rounded curve of her
naked boob. She felt, rather than saw,
the fingers move across the firm roundness of her boob, stopping, digging a
little, then moving further and further towards her
right arm. She heard the man inhale
sharply as his fingers rounded the round curvature of her naked boob and then
felt him cup her breast at the side of her boob his thumb rubbing her hard
nipple and his fingers hefting the weight of her right breast. She realized he had been surprised by her
size, but not by the fact that she was topless beneath the trench coat.
“Mighty
big,” he breathed, “mighty nice too.
Firmer than what I thought them tits of yours would be Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara continued to rub the man’s now hard
penis. He was getting a very hard penis
as she continued to stroke the man. She
inhaled sharply as she felt a finger move off the curvature of her naked breast
and trap her nipple between the thumb and
forefinger. He squeezed, enough to be
uncomfortable, but equally enough to make her nipple become even more
aroused. She swallowed as his thumb and
finger released her nipple and he withdrew his hand from the inside of her
trench coat.
“You
got real nice feeling tits, there Mrs. Bergman,” snickered
the man.
Sara was silent to his remark.
“Later,
I’m gonnah have to give them special attention, but
then maybe you wannah go to a bar, Mrs. Bergman?” he
half snickered.
She continued to stroke him as she said,
“No
sir, I don’t want to go to a bar.”
She felt rather than saw his arm move
again, this time towards the steering column of the car. She heard the engine start and she stopped
stroking him.
“Keep
up the stroking Mrs. Bergman,” he said as he put the car in gear and slowly
moved down the street.
“But I
don’t want to distract you while you’re driving….sir!” she exclaimed.
“You
let me worry about the distractions, Mrs. Bergman, you
just keep my cock nice and hard like you were!”
Sara didn’t like the way the man
talked. He was crude and vulgar. She
moved her hand back to his crotch and began tracing the outline of his erection
in his pants.
“That’s
better, Mrs. Bergman, you’re pretty good at that, must have had a lot of
experience, eh?” said the man’s harsh voice with a snicker in it.
Sara remained silent but blushed deeply at
the insulting remark. She reminded
herself she was proving to Bobby she was his slut. She continued to stimulate the man. He made a turn, then another, then accelerated.
Sara realized miserably she was lost in her own neighborhood. She wasn’t sure where he was taking her.
As time went on, silently, and Sara
continued to stimulate the harsh man’s organ in his pants she realized she was
being taken a long ways from her own neighborhood. She felt dazed, somehow not as alert as she’d
felt when she first entered the vehicle.
She looked at the dashboard and inhaled sharply seeing the time was
He moved quickly and his sudden action
caught her off guard. He grabbed her
head and kissed her full across her lips.
His breath tasted of smoke and beer or alcohol. Sara had been shocked by his sudden movement
and opened her mouth, too late realizing that this was a mistake as his slimy
tongue searched out the insides of her open mouth. She felt suddenly degraded even as she
continued to stroke the man’s organ.
“Not a bad kisser either, eh Mrs. Bergman?
You sure are a hot one, um, um,” he snickered pulling away from
her. Sara resisted the urge to wipe her
mouth and continued to pulsate the man’s penis. Even when he’d gotten face to face she hadn’t
recognized him, but there was this feeling, this nagging at the back of her
mind, that she knew him from somewhere.
He was a white man though, because she’d even considered the fact that
he could have been Black. He wasn’t though, he was white, dark in complexion but white. He had a little bit of a beard too, her face was a little red from his forced kiss and the
abrasiveness of his unshaven face.
“Cops
don’t come around here very often.
Sometimes they do, but not very often,” he almost whispered to her. She wondered at the significance of that
statement.
She swallowed as she felt his hand on her
wrist, removing it from the action she was doing at his crotch. He pushed her wrist back in her lap.
“Scoot
back against the door, Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara sensed danger, but she did as she was
instructed silently.
“Now,
Mrs. Bergman, open the trench coat, let’s have a look at you.”
Sara wanted to cry. He’d get more than a look. She was nude under the trench coat and she
felt reasonably sure he knew it. She was
Bobby’s slut, came into her mind, as she unbuckled the belt to the coat, her
back against the door.
Then
slowly she unbuttoned each of the six buttons that were still buttoned. Steeling herself she parted the coat to
reveal her nudity to this unknown man.
“Wow! Wow, what a set of tits!” he exclaimed, then
“very, ve-ery nice, Mrs. Bergman, yes sir ree very nice indeed!”
Sara blushed deeply sitting there naked in
front of the man.
“Put
your left leg up on the seat, Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara closed her eyes wondering how long
this torture was going to continue. She
slowly moved her left leg up on the seat.
This forced her to expose her naked crotch to the man and the light of
the bright street light made all of what she had totally exposed. She was Bobby’s slut. She had to prove she was Bobby’s slut. It was becoming increasingly more difficult,
she realized, to be the slut Bobby wanted her to be.
“Pull
the trench coat off your shoulders, Mrs. Bergman, then
start to frig yourself.”
“Plea-please…sir….is…that
necessary?” she questioned pulling the trench coat off her shoulders and
exposing even more of her nakedness to the man on the other side of the car.
“You wannah go to some bar instead, Mrs. Bergman?”
“No!”
she exclaimed and moved a hand down to her genitals.
“Use
both hands, Mr. Bergman. I wannah
hear you make that pussy of
your’s
wet!”
Sara half sobbed but did as she was
instructed all too aware that by using both hands she trapped her naked boobs
between her arms and forced them to jut outwards even more than they had been
before. She fingered her pussy, trying
to stimulate herself, then her clit, then fingered
herself some more until she felt the natural juices begin to flow. He wanted to hear her juices as she
manipulated herself.
God,
was she embarrassed! She parted her
pussy lips, knowing all to well she was providing this unknown man with a view
of her snatch that was very revealing.
It was necessary to get herself to the moist
point that he demanded. She was Bobby’s
slut.
Sara made the mistake of closing her eyes
while she masturbated in front of the man.
Her eyes snapped open though when she felt his right hand on her left
leg at the knee, moving quickly down towards her exposed crotch. There was something dark in his left hand as
she shuddered hearing a sudden buzzing noise, then feeling the smooth tip of a
penis shaped vibrator slip past her fingers and into her slit, not in her pussy
yet, but in her slit!
“Plea-please….no!”
she said, knowing he wouldn’t stop.
He didn’t either. He moved the humming, wickedly vibrating tool
over her clit and let it stay there buzzing and humming in the sloppy juices of
her exposed genitals. Then he slid it
down, and into her. The buzzing changed
pitch and then she could feel rather than hear the effect. It drove her to a near climax as he pushed
the
thing
deep inside her.
He moved again, this time fingering her
genitals. Then she felt him removing the
big vibrator and she gasped, almost climaxing.
“Remarkable
control, Mrs. Bergman, almost came that time, eh?”
He snickered at her as he turned off the
buzzing sound, but she had glimpsed his face when he moved into the light. She remembered that face from somewhere!
Humiliated, not able to concentrate, she
knew she’d eventually remember who this thug was. She was breathing heavy as he moved back to
behind the wheel and said,
“Get
your ass over here….leave it open bitch… and start strokin’
me some more!”
Sara noticed the change in his tone. Noticed the change in the way he addressed
her….no longer as ‘Mrs.’ but as ‘bitch’.
She felt and knew she was exposed as she
moved closer to this evil man. She
reached out and stroked his rigid penis as he snickered and hefted her left
breast, closest to him, before dropping the boob and starting the car.
What now?! She thought in confusion.
He put the car in gear as she stroked his
penis head, lowering her head so that she might not be seen as he drove the car
down the street and turned into a motel.
He parked the car at the far end.
Then he shut the engine off. Sara
was still stroking his erection. He
sighed, as she thought, where have I seen him before?
“Button
two of them coat buttons, your choice as to which two, and get out of the
car. Stand at the front of the car and
wait for me.”
Sara stopped fondling the man and hurriedly
complied. She chose the second button to
the top and the very bottom button.
Closing the trench coat made her feel less exposed. Then scooting quickly across the seat she
opened the door and complied with the man’s demands. He in turn, she noticed got out of the car,
locked it, then he went to the trunk. He got something out of the trunk and as he
came into view she saw it looked like a bowling ball bag. He passed where she stood took a pair of keys
out of his jacket pocket and just as he was putting the key in the lock of the
motel room door her memory of where she’d seen him before returned. He was the big man that had made comments
about her chubby figure over at the grocery store! He’d been a clerk or something.
She’d
never reported his nasty remarks but now she knew where she’d seen him. The revelation didn’t help, though, because
he was still a mean, dirty, looking man.
He opened the door then pushed it open.
He was only about five feet from where she stood when he said sharply,
“What are
you?”
Immediately, without even thinking about
what she was saying the words sprang from her mind and to her mouth,
“I’m
Bobby’s slut.”
She said it matter of fact. It startled her how easily the words came to
her mouth. She blushed.
“In
here I’m gonnah
give you a
chance to prove that, Mrs. Bergman,” he said and she noted the renewed
emphasis on her married title, “come on in.”
Sara stood in the center of the motel
room. Like most motel rooms the bed
dominated the room, a big queen size bed, she noted absently. There were two vinyl covered upholstered
chairs a night stand and a small table.
The man put his bag on the table turned to her and said,
“Hang
the trench coat in the closet, on a hanger, then bring
me the trousers hanger, Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara turned looking for the closet. She found it, opened the door, turning her
back to him. Steeling herself again she
unbuttoned the two buttons to the trench coat slipping it off, exposing her
nude rear to him. She put the trench
coat on a hanger, seeing a trouser hanger next to it. Then taking the trouser hanger from the rod
she turned and exposed her full frontal nudity to the man holding out the
hanger to him. She realized as she did
so he had moved to across the room to the chair next to the drape covered
window. She moved over to where he sat
and handed him the hanger. He took it,
his eyes sweeping across her naked, exposed body.
“Personally,”
he said as he leered at her, “I prefer a black garter belt, but white will do,
Mrs. Bergman.”
She blushed but remained silent standing
there naked in front of him and oh so far away from home. She noticed him tapping one hand with the tip
of the trouser hanger using it like some kind of weird instrument and she also
noticed on the table next to him the big black shape of the vibrator he had
used on her earlier. She stood there
totally naked, totally at his mercy.
“My
rules are simple. Disobey them and I
will hurt you. I will enjoy hurting you
too Mrs. Bergman.”
She believed him. He would enjoy hurting her.
“My
first rule, you already know, calling me ‘sir’.
My second rule is that you always respond, no matter what
your….eh predicament, ok Mrs. Bergman?”
Sara started to nod, then
said,
“Ye-yes
sir.”
“My
third rule is that you always respond honestly, even if it’s the wrong answer,
you got that?”
“Yes
sir,” she responded.
Sara swallowed, nervously, as he leaned
forward and using the hanger tip he pressed hard into the carpet. It was a two tone carpet, and he made an ‘X’
shape next to his foot.
“Stand
on the ‘X’ Mrs. Bergman.”
She moved towards the spot, then stopped as she felt the hanger suddenly come up as the
man hooked the curved end of the hanger between her genital lips.
He
pushed and she grunted, it hurt, as he said,
“You
broke rule number two, Mrs. Bergman.”
“I-I’m
sorry, sir, I-I’ll re-remember next time.”
“You’d
better, bitch, or I can get a lot meaner!”
Sara knew he was capable of that!
“Yes,
sir,” she responded moving painfully towards the ‘X’ spot on the carpet. When she was in position he removed the
hanger from her hurting pussy lips.
“Interlace
your fingers behind your neck and bend towards me Mrs. Bergman.”
“Yes,
sir,” she responded as he nodded. Sara
swallowed and bent forward her boobs inches from the man’s face. His left hand came up to cup her dangling
right breast. He cupped it, then
massaged it’s shape, then pulled on her nipples. Her nipples were already taut, but the
pulling action on the part of his thumb and forefinger made them become more
erect. She tried not to think of what he
was doing to her, tried not to think of this terrible situation and
concentrated on guessing the age of this slightly pot bellied man. She guessed him to be somewhere between his
late thirties and early forties.
“Do you
like me feeling your tits Mrs. Bergman?”
“No
sir, I don’t.”
He squeezed pretty hard. He caused her to wince and lean towards
him. It hurt!
“Plea-please
sir that hurts!” she finally exclaimed.
“Rule
four always respond in kind,” he said as he maintained his cruel squeeze on her
dangling right breast, “by that I mean if I ask you if you like me feelings
these tits up your response should be ‘No sir, I don’t like you feeling my tits
up.’ Got that Mrs. Bergman?”
“Ye-yes,
sir, it really, really does hurt though sir!”
“Rule
five, is that you thank me for touching you even if it’s painful. You understand Mrs. Bergman, thank me every
time something is done to or asked from you?”
“Yes
sir, thank you sir for punishing me, guiding me in your rules.”
“Very well
said Mrs. Bergman,” he replied as he released his hold on her firm dangling
right breast and began pawing, fondling her left as he said,
“Repeat
back to me the rules, Mrs. Bergman.”
“Sir,
rule one is that I call you sir. Rule
two, sir, is that I always respond, no matter what circumstances I find myself
in. Rule three, rule three, sir, is that
I always reply honestly, even if…even if it’s the wrong answer. Rule four, sir, is that I repeat back to in kind, that is sir, I’m to use the same …te-terms
you use, sir. Rule five sir, is that I thank you for everything you do or ask of me
sir.”
“You’re
a smart bitch, know that Mrs. Bergman?”
“Yes
sir, if you say so, sir.”
“Both
your nipples are hard now, and very attractive when
they’re hard like that.”
“Yes
sir, thank you sir.”
The man, whose name she was trying to
remember, pulled at her left nipple causing her to wince in discomfort. She bent closer to him to ease the pressure
on her nipple and he smiled wickedly as he licked her nipple still caught
between thumb and forefinger.
“Does
that feel good Mrs. Bergman?”
“No
sir, thank you for asking, but not sir it doesn’t.”
“Too
bad,” he said, releasing her nipple as she quickly responded with,
“Yes
sir, it’s too bad, thank you sir.”
“Is your
back hurting you, Mrs. Bergman?”
“Ye-yes
sir, it is, thank you for asking sir.”
“Straighten
up then, and hold your cunt open, show me your clit, Mrs. Bergman.”
“Yes
sir, thank you sir,” she responded reaching down to open her pussy lips and
show her nub to the man. Sara felt more
like a thing now than a person.
She reflected about this as she stood nude exposing her most private
parts to a vile man.
“This is
the clit?” he asked rubbing her nub.
“Yess,” she hissed out, “sir, it-it’s my…clit sir.”
“Feels good,
eh?”
“Yes
sir, thank you sir, bu-but I-I’ll come soon if you…if
you keep doing that sir!”
“Hold
your tits up and tell me how big they are Mrs. Bergman,” he said momentarily
taking his finger off of her overworked clitoris. She swallowed as she released her pussy lips
feeling them fall back into place but still separated by the man’s finger which
was held close to but not touching her clitoris hood.
She lifted her big, dangling breasts and
said,
“Sir my
boo..I’m sorry sir, my tits are size thirty eight triple ‘D’ cup, sir.”
“That’s
big, Mrs. Bergman!”
“Yes,
sir, that’s big,” she responded feeling his other hand race over the tops of
her nylon hose covered leg and rub her firm ass cheek. She was proud of her ass cheeks, not flabby
like so many of the women her age.
“Do you
like me feeling your cunt up Mrs. Bergman?”
“It is
stimulating sir, but no sir, I don’t like it, sir.”
“Why
don’t you like my finger in your cunt, Mrs. Bergman?” he asked as she almost
came when he slid a finger past the tight sphincter muscle of her pussy’s
entrance and twisted his finger around on the inside of her vagina.
“It’s
very stimulating sir, you putting your finger in my cunt, but sir, it’s also
kind of ….degrading….I am married, sir.”
“Yeah,
I bet it is to you. Tell me, Mrs.
Bergman, what your husband would see if he were standing on the other side of
the room right now?”
“Sir,
he’d see me, see me holding, holding my tits up….he’d see me holding my tits
up, dressed only in a garter belt and hose and heels, sir, with your fingers
sir in both my…ass hole and my pussy sir! He’d see I…he’d see I was close to climaxing
too…sir.”
“Yes I
think he would. I think he would
indeed. Are you still close to climaxing
Mrs. Bergman?”
“Ye-yes
sir, very close to climaxing.”
“Are
you any good at cock sucking Mrs. Bergman?”
“I…I
don’t know how to respond to that, sir.”
“Are
you a good cock sucker or not Mrs. Bergman?”
“Sir,
only the …cocks I’ve sucked could tell you that…sir.”
“Who
have you sucked?”
“My…my husband sir.”
“Did he
like it?”
“I
think he did sir.”
“Did he
climax?”
“Not
while I sucked him sir.”
“Really?”
“Yes
sir.”
“What
about Bobby?”
“I
sucked him sir.”
“Did he
climax?”
“Yes
sir, he climaxed.”
“In your mouth?”
“Yes
sir in my mouth, I swallowed his sperm sir.”
“Anybody else?”
“Yes
sir….a couple of the kids around the neigh-neighborhood..they
blackmailed me sir.”
“You
swallow their sperm too Mrs. Bergman?”
“Yes
sir, I swallowed their sperm too,” she replied a tear forming in her eyes.
“But
when you sucked your hubby’s cock you didn’t let him climax in your mouth,
right?”
“Yes
sir that’s right, I didn’t let him climax in my mouth, sir.”
“In a
few minutes I want you to suck my cock and when I blow it, you hold my come in
your mouth until I tell you it’s ok to swallow it.”
“Yes
sir, I will…hold your cum in my mouth until you tell
me to swallow it sir.”
“How
old are you Mrs. Bergman?”
“I’m
forty four, sir,” she replied continuing to hold her boobs up like the vile man
wanted.
“You
don’t look that old, Mrs. Bergman.”
“Thank
you sir,” she replied with very little emotion.
“Look
over where I put my bag and tell me what you see Mrs. Bergman.”
“I see
your bag sir….oh god…oh god, sir, I see a video camera!”
“We
have to have a record for Bobby don’t we Mrs.
Bergman?”
“Yes
sir, he would like that.”
“What
are you, Mrs. Bergman?”
“I’m
Bobby’s slut,” she replied automatically and without hesitation. She was looking at the camera when she said
it. She could still feel the vile man’s
fingers, they weren’t moving but they were embedded inside her and it would be
obvious what those fingers were doing to her if the video were reviewed.
Sara almost cried out, barely repressing
her need to climax, as she felt the vile man’s finger touch her g-spot! She couldn’t help the rotation her hips took
as she rotated her lower body simulating a pumping action on his tremendously
stimulating fingers. If he kept this up
she’d climax for sure!
“Are
you ready to climax Mrs. Bergman?”
“Sir,
I-I’m very-very close to a climax,” she panted as he continued to fuck both her
ass hole and her pussy with his fingers while she squeezed her breasts and
fingered her nipples.
Then he rotated his finger on her g-spot
as she lost it.
“Oh
god…no…no I-I’m coming. Oh god…ohgodohgod…!” she exclaimed loudly as she thrust her hips
around and around and also slightly downward on the vile man’s pleasing
fingers. It was a first for her,
climaxing on her feet! Her calves and
thigh muscles contracted and actually rippled with intensity as she went over
the edge and stars went off in her head.
She felt her head go back, almost lost balance, but somehow maintained
it, as the man’s vile fingers drove her into one of the most intense climaxes
of her life! It was as strong as any
she’d had with Bobby. Sara, in the back
of her mind knew why too, she knew she was doing this ALL for Bobby that was
why it was so tremendously overwhelming for her. She almost, but not quite, collapsed. The vile man supported her sweating,
exhausted form as she slowly recovered from the tremendous stimulation that
totally overwhelmed her senses. As
awareness returned, so too was there a renewed feeling, close to a climax but
not quite there. It was because the vile
man had his finger on her g-spot and was exciting the hell out of it. She was soon as horny as she’d been before
but with a slight difference. This time
there was a kind of release, a kind of pressure that wasn’t there, but she
still was very, very hot and bothered.
He had, Sara noticed, a little remote
control, in the hand that had just been removed from her ass hole. She correctly guessed it was the camera’s
remote. She noticed him put it on pause. Sara felt immediately nervous, even though
she still could feel his finger on her g-spot, keeping her deliberately
excited.
Sara watched as he smiled evilly. He withdrew his finger from her as she half
sagged, using the chair arm for support.
He ignored her obvious lack of strength and went over to the
camera. He popped out the small tape and
inserted a new one that he got from the bag.
Then he started to take off his clothes.
He watched her as he did and finally he was down to his shorts. She was amazed though, he wore shorts, and
the bone that he sported looked more like another little leg than an
erection. It was one of the biggest
cocks she’d ever seen. Her eyes widened
in both fear and some shock.
Sara noticed the camera was back on.
“Come
over here Mrs. Bergman and dance for me,” said the vile man.
Sara advanced knowing the camera followed
her movements, how she wasn’t sure, but she knew it. Then she danced. She undulated her
hips, putting her hands on her hips.
“Not
bad, lean forward and make them big titties slap together with your shoulders,
yeah, yeah like that,” said the vile man as she obeyed feeling and hearing
her breast flesh slap together as she jiggled her goods for the man and the
camera and then she said as she did, just barely in time,
“Yes
sir…is this what you wanted to see me do sir?”
“If
certainly is Mrs. Bergman, ever do that for hubby?”
“No
sir, I haven’t.” she replied fully aware of what she was doing and saying
was going on tape.
“Maybe
you’ll do it for Bobby, eh Mrs. Bergman?”
“Of
course sir, if he wants me to.”
He put the tape on pause.
“You
can stop with the jug dance for now, Mrs. Bergman.”
“Thank
you sir,” she replied, breathing a little heavy. It took more effort than she realized to
perform the required task.
“Tell
me Mrs. Bergman, do you remember when I met you in the store?”
Sara noticed the tape was still off but
she said to him anyway,
“Yes,
sir I remember.”
“Were
you wearing hose then?”
“Yes
sir, I was.”
“Did it
turn you on to tighten them when I was looking.”
“At
first, sir, I didn’t know you were looking.
I thought the coast was clear, but then when I saw you look….I guess,
yes sir, it turned me on a little.”
“What
have you done with your old man that you haven’t told any body about, sexually,
Mrs. Bergman?”
Sara sensed a test. Even though she stood there nude in front of
him, and gathering her breath, she sensed the danger in the situation.
“I
performed something he called a ‘boob drag’ on his body, sir.”
“Explain
to me what that is, Mrs. Bergman,” he said watching her as she blushed.
“I
would use my boob…I’m sorry sir, I would use my tits and drag them barely over
his body with only my nipples touching his body surface.”
“You
would, eh? Did he like that?”
“Very
much sir,” she replied blushing.
“Did
you jug fuck him after that then, Mrs. Bergman?”
Sara blushed red as she replied,
“Yes
sir, most of the time.”
“You’ll
do it for me, on tape, then
ask to suck my
cock. Remember the rules I gave you
early about sucking me off, Mrs. Bergman?”
“I will
do as you ask sir, and I remember the rules sir.”
“If you
forget what to say, I have a surprise for you, Mrs. Bergman.”
“What-what
would that be, sir?”
He showed her a projector. It projected slides of what she was to say,
out of view of the camera. The slide up
on the wall made her feel sick. It read
‘I’m your cock sucking, come swallowing, married slut, sir!’
He started the tape when she started doing
the jug dance again. It made it appear
as if this little interlude had never taken place on the tape, she knew.
Sara’s exhaustion was real as she panted
out,
“Sir
I’d like to please you with something I’ve only performed for my husband.”
“Oh and
what would that be, Mrs. Bergman?”
“It-it’s
called a titty drag, sir. Will you let me show you, please, sir?”
“Give
it a whirl Mrs. Bergman.”
“Thank
you sir, thank you…” she replied getting up on the bed and dangling her triple
‘D’ cup size tits in his face. She felt
him fondle her orbs, her boobs distorting out of shape, but not painfully. She then began to drag her nipples over his
body, feeling his hair, and also feeling the quick stimulation that came to her
nipples when she did this. She went down
his chest, over his erection, down his thighs to his chins then his feet
dragging her big boobs lightly over his body surface. She trapped her big boobs around his right
foot, then switched to his left foot and repeated the process to his face. He appeared to really enjoy what she did and
his thick hard erection testified to his obvious arousal. He gave her the look and she read the
projected sign on the wall, trying to make it sound more sexy
than she felt.
“I’m-I’m
your cock sucking, come swallowing, married slut, sir. Will you let me please you with my mouth,
sir?”
“Sure
Mrs. Bergman. But first lick my balls, I’ll let you know when you can start sucking me off.”
“Yes,
sir, thank you sir,” she replied disgusted with herself as she got down in
front of the camera and began licking his hairy wrinkled bag of balls. She licked him until he sighed and said,
“Yes
Mrs. Bergman, you are pretty good with that tongue, feels good, real good, keep
on licking!”
“Thank
you sir,” she mumbled, as she continued to lick the ugly bag, with the
repulsive smell and the worse little hairs the flicked off in her mouth.
“Now
lick my cock, real nice and slow, don’t start sucking me off just yet, Mrs.
Bergman.”
“Yes
sir…I won’t until you tell me to sir.”
“You
have a nice mouth, Mrs. Bergman,” he said from above her as she laved his erect
member with the flat of her tongue. She
heard him groan just as she replied,
“Thank
you….sir.”
Sara heard a click and knew it was the
slide. On her upward lave she looked up
on the screen and the wording said ‘make it more sloppy sounding’.
She
realized he must of known in advance. Feeling truly degraded she made her mouth
sound more sloppy as she slurped on his rigid, salty tasting erection.
“You
may begin sucking my cock, Mrs. Bergman.”
“Thank-thank
you sir,” she replied and opened her mouth to take in his round, fat cock
head. She sucked deeply on it getting a
groan from the man’s throat from above.
Sara licked the length of what she could get in her mouth amazed that
she could only get about a third of his erection before the cock head teased
the soft tissue at the back of her mouth near the entrance of her throat. He was big!
Bigger than anything she’d yet experienced, youth or adult!
She moved into position so that the vile
man could reach across his own naked body and fondle her dangling breast with
his left hand, while his right hand probed her vagina. He was already fully aware of how to stimulate
her and he put this knowledge to immediate use.
He flicked his finger on her g-spot, causing her to moan around his
thick, hard, erect cock in her mouth.
She held the base of the thick cock, shocked that her fingers couldn’t
get around the entire girth of the monstrous pole.
“Use
your tits Mrs. Bergman!” he half barked at her.
“Yes
sir,” she replied pulling her mouth off the huge bulb shaped head and moved so
that her breast were separated by the thickness of his rod. Her eyes opened wide as she pushed down,
realizing that this vile man’s penis was the first one to penetrate between her
big boobs and still allow enough of his big cock head to suck. She sucked as she manipulated her boobs
around the cock. She sucked, liked and
tried using her large boobs to jack him off with. It worked!
It worked almost too well. He
grunted sending a flow of thick sperm in her mouth. The gooey substance was pushed off to one
side with her tongue as she remembered her instructions about blowing him. She was glad she’d been quick about it
because a second, thick, gooey mess followed the first, and then a third and a
fourth. She held it all in her
mouth. The fifth load wasn’t much, but it
was enough so that her mouth overflowed and some of his spent climax juices
oozed from between her red lip stick covered lips and down over his rigid
ejaculating shaft.
The gooey climax spend
tasted both salty and slightly metallic.
Her cheeks were bloated with his come.
She pulled away, keeping his come in her mouth.
“Look at
the lens, Mrs. Bergman, and open your mouth.”
Sara did so, unable to stop a flow of
climax sperm ooze from her open mouth and down her chin.
“Now
close and swallow, Mrs. Bergman.”
Sara closed her mouth and gulped down the
man’s climax. She felt sick in her
stomach as she had to swallow three times to clear her mouth. When he thought her mouth was clear he said,
“Open
wide Mrs. Bergman.”
She opened her mouth and displayed how
empty it was now. She felt like puking,
but was able to hold it down.
“Well
Mrs. Bergman?”
“Thank
you sir, for allowing me the privilege” she read off the wall
projection, “of sucking your cock and swallowing your come, sir.”
The clicking of the slide made her
look. She looked then sat up and said as
she felt his finger withdraw from inside her,
“Sir…I
need to be fucked.”
“Oh
very well, but use your mouth and tits again to get me harder,” he said lewdly.
“But
you’re already quite hard, sir!” she blurted out uncontrolled and not liking
the idea of another jug fuck.
“Do it
anyway Mrs. Bergman.”
“Yes
sir, of course, sir.
My
mouth first or my tits, sir?”
“Start
with your tits, I liked that, nice set of jugs you have, Mrs. Bergman and you
put them to such good uses.”
“Yes
sir, my tits first sir, and-and thank you sir.”
“Any
time Mrs. Bergman,” he replied with a snicker.
“Thank
you sir,” she said after she’d already started to trap his cock between her big
boobs again and started to lick the head of his cock with more and more
force. She got sloppy sounding and he moaned
again.
“Will
you fuck me now sir, please?”
“Of
course, Mrs. Bergman, position your pussy accordingly,” he said with a sneer.
She couldn’t help but blush. She hoped the lens of the camera wasn’t that
sensitive. If her husband ever saw this
tape her marriage was doomed. Sara had
to admit though, that once he slid into her, he filled her fuller than she’d
dreamed possible. It only took a dozen
strokes by using her body to pump up and down over his shaft before she reached
a tremendous climax. She groaned out her
climax remembering to thank this man for fucking her and calling him sir at the
same time. She looked at the clock just
as he spurted his second climax ejaculation deep inside her and realized it was
just past
It was like a living nightmare. She fucked him doggie style and told him this
was her favorite position. It was the
truth but she didn’t have to tell him, or did she? He fucked her on the floor and in the bath
tub. He fucked her on a squeaking,
protesting table, and he fucked her in the chair with her facing him and her
legs spread wide. She felt totally out
of it by then, going through the motions as best she could, exhausted and yet
somehow still quite aroused. It was
confusing and blurry time, but the worst of it was that she realized it all was
going on video! Sara was confused and
almost disoriented when they left the motel.
She could barely walk. The man
had to help her into her trench coat she was so spent. He got her to the front seat of the car. Then she blacked out for a while only to wake
with him fondling her naked boob beneath the trench coat while her head lay in
his lap and his penis head was in her sucking, licking mouth. Sara was shocked even with herself! She had performed this oral stimulation on
this vile man and she had done it automatically, while he was driving her
home! He stopped once, to spurt his ejaculation
in her face. She couldn’t swallow it,
she was so tired. The warm, sticky fluid
stuck to her face and was in her hair.
She didn’t care any more and when he had started the car back into
motion her mouth was back on his now limp penis. It got hard one last time before she got
home. He parked in her drive way and
then came in her mouth for an unknown number of times. He had to help her to the porch. It took all of her strength, all of her mind
set to get into the house, take off the trench coat, and slip out of the
heels. She fell into bed rather then
sitting down and then getting in. At
least she’d remembered to close the door!