Subject: Disneyland Fun (MF, oral, exhib, anal)
By: Kelly <pghkelly@yahoo.com>
Diary Date: June 28, 2009
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!!!WARNING!!!!
This file is a work of fiction containing sexually explicit material which may
include depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as
incest and adultery. It is not intended to implicate any person or action by
them or me, nor advocate such practices. If you can't separate fantasy from
reality, get professional help - FAST!
The material is distributed as "For Adults Only" and possession by a minor is
strictly forbidden. If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of
this material, do not read it and delete it immediately.
This work is copyrighted to the author ©2010. It may be posted to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so long as no changes
are made AND the author information is retained.
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Summary:
I’d been to Disney World when I was a kid but this was my first time at this
park and I’d grown up a lot since then as well. This time my visit to the
“Happiest Place On Earth” was a bit different – to say the least.
Note: You might want to first read “June 26,2009 Unconventional Convention” and
“June 27, 2009 Fun In and RV Park” as I have tried not to be too repetitious in
this entry about the events that took place in the days prior to this one.
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1 – Last Day in California
Chapter 2 – Pirates and Bears
Chapter 3 – The Parking Lot
Chapter 1 – Last Day in California
==================================
Actually, it was our last FULL day in California, the last day of the church
convention I’d been blackmailed into attending. Yes, I said blackmailed. The
ONLY reason I agreed to go along was because the new administrator of the
school, where I wanted to teach in the fall, had insisted – make that demanded,
that I come along. There wasn’t much I could say as following Mr. Eisenberg’s
demands was a requirement I’d reluctantly agreed to as part of a bargain we’d
struck to restore me to my teaching position at the school.
Just a little background (the full details are elsewhere in my Diary)... Last
fall I’d been forced to resign from my teaching position thanks to some nasty
rumors spread by my now EX-boyfriend. Fortunately (I guess it depends on your
outlook), the school administrator had a bad heart attack and so a new one was
hired to replace him. My hopes were he would not know the details about my
situation but as it turned out, the prior administrator must have given him some
very private information about me. Unlike his predecessor, instead of refusing
me a position, he used the information as leverage to satisfy his own “needs”.
End result – I was going to the convention whether I liked it or not.
Of all the potential things I had considered doing this summer, going to a
national church convention was probably one of the LAST things I would have
thought possible. To my surprise, so far it was working out far better than I
ever could have dreamed. The only “problem” I’d faced was his wife, who had
been quite the bitch towards me. Indeed, from the first moment she laid eyes on
me in the Pittsburgh airport and realized I wasn't some old maid from school (as
she’d evidently been expecting), but rather a girl at least ten years younger
than her, she was on my case. For the most part I just tried to ignore her and
make the best of things.
As I said, despite Mrs. Eisneberg things had gone pretty well so far. On the
very first day of the convention I was fucked quickly by Mr. Eisenberg right
before the opening session. Then just a few hours later I gave a rally cute guy
his first blowjob in the overhead of the convention center ballroom. Before
leaving the convention center for the day I got horny again and so I masturbated
while being driven around town on a shuttle bus. Not a bad way to spend the
first day!
The next morning I was horny as hell with anticipation now that I realized this
trip wasn't going to be so bad after all. Even when his wife chastised me for
the way I dressed for bed it didn't phase me. With her in the RV it was hard to
take care of my normal morning “needs” so I ended up having to masturbate in the
park bathhouse before we spent the morning at the convention hall. Despite my
high expectations, this time the time spent in town was rather uneventful,
leaving me a little disappointed. When we got back to the RV park I was left on
my own for the afternoon while the Eisenberg’s went off on a private hot tub
adventure. While trying out the beach area (calling it a “beach” is being kind
to a sand pile by the lake) Lady Luck was with me as I was picked up by this
hunky guy who took me out waterskiing with two of his friends. As it turned
out, we didn't get much skiing done but I got fucked pretty well instead out on
the lake by his friend and his friend’s younger brother. That was just the
start as when we returned and his friends had left, I got involved with my first
incestual family other than my own. It was just the guy fucking his mom while I
did his dad but still, it qualified as a first for me!
Given the crazy way the first couple of days had gone, you can imagine my
expectations were pretty high for our last full day in California. We would be
catching an early flight the next morning so for all practical purposes this was
the last day. There was a large church service in the morning and then some
sessions scheduled at the Convention Center for the afternoon. As we discussed
our plans for the next day, neither of the Eisenbergs seemed overly excited
about attending any of the remaining convention activities. To my surprise, it
was his wife Kelly, (imagine the annoyance of having to spend an entire weekend
with someone else having the same name as you) who came up with the idea of
making a quick trip to Disneyland. Apparently she’d never been to either of the
Disney theme parks and with Anaheim only a half hour away or so, she seemed
rather excited by the prospect of at least getting a glimpse of the place.
After the way she had been treating me ever since we’d first met, it took me a
little off-guard when she asked me if I wanted to tag along. It sort of
confused me. Was she was maybe softening her view of me? It could also have
been just her exuberance over fulfilling some childhood dream that transformed
her temporarily into a nicer person. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to
argue about it. We had to be back in time to pick up their kids from the Kid’s
Camp they’d been attending all weekend but that still left us most of the day.
Speaking of his wife, when Kelly and I first met I think she may have had some
suspicions about me and her husband, but over the past few days it now seemed
that maybe those concerns had faded somewhat. While I knew she still considered
me to be a slut (and in a good way), she seemed to accept me now so long as her
husband was not involved. All I could say was thank goodness she had no idea
about my real “relationship” with him!
Oddly, more a few times Kelly had made off-hand comments about her own past and
I couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t been the class slut herself back in her
high school and maybe even college days. She WAS hot, even if her fake boobs
somewhat turned me off, and more than once I found myself marveling that Mr.
Eisenberg was willing to risk everything with her just to fuck me. Oh well,
guys are never satisfied it seems. If I was more honest with myself I would
have to admit that he was probably more turned on by the taboo of cheating with
me than me being sexier than his own Kelly. Were it not for the element of
blackmail, I would be pretty excited about the prospect of him cheating with me
again. I also had to admit that the idea of being with HER crossed my mind more
than a few times, especially when we would be changing clothes and I got a quick
eyeful of her incredible figure. Not bad, not bad at all for a mother of two
young teenagers. Unfortunately, any other ideas I might have for her were
squashed when she’d made her feelings about sex with girls perfectly clear – she
had NO interest whatsoever at best and viewed the practice as disgusting,
perverted and even sinful.
Given my so-called “relationship” with Kelly. when I woke up on Sunday morning I
was a bit surprised to find the covers over me as usually I kick them off during
the night. Looking around, I saw Kelly watching me as she stood by the sink
with an odd smile on her face. Now this was interesting... My guess was that
instead of waking me up and bitching about me exposing myself, as she had done
yesterday morning, she had covered me instead. Was that meant as a gesture of
kindness, perhaps a small peace offering? Or was she just making sure her
husband didn't get a view of my bare ass after my nightshirt had ridden up while
I was sleeping?
As I tried to clear my mind to contemplate all this, my thoughts were distracted
by two intense feelings. First, I had to pee BADLY plus I was horny as hell and
needed to masturbate (well, being fucked would’ve been better but beggars can’t
be choosers). I don’t know if it was the water or the heat of the previous day
that made me drink more than usual, but the last couple of mornings I’d wake and
feel like my bladder was about to burst, not my usual number one priority in the
morning (and I’m sure you can guess what THAT is),
Slipping out of bed and pulling down my nightshirt, I mumbled a good morning to
Mrs. Eisenberg and made my way to the bathroom as there was no way I was going
to make it to the bathhouse this morning. The bathroom in the RV was like the
rest of the RV - tiny and cramped, not at all like the one in the big RV where
I’d had fun yesterday. Making it worse was this horrible odor that must have
been seeping up from the holding tank. It was enough to make me wrinkle my nose
in disgust. Small wonder I usually made the trek to the bathhouse when I felt
the urge. It may as well have been an outhouse – something else I avoid like
the plague!
With THAT need taken care of, there was the matter of the other – me being
horny. It seems I’ve always been the most naturally horny first thing in the
morning. That may not seem so odd except that I wouldn’t otherwise classify
myself as a “morning person”. Indeed, I would rather stay up all hours and then
sleep in until noon given the choice. Perhaps a better way of describing it
would be to say I wake up horny – regardless of whether it’s morning or not. If
I’m REALLY lucky, I have a naked guy laying next to me who wants to fuck me
first thing but that’s definitely NOT the typical scenario so usually I just
take care of myself.
People often ask me how often I masturbate to which I usually answer two to
three times a day on average. Mornings like today are pretty much a given and
it’s not often I go to sleep without my hands making their way to my crotch. In
between, who knows? It depends a lot on where I am and who I am with during the
day. Some days I may just do the morning thing but I almost never go a full day
without masturbating at least once. Sitting here writing this, I can’t even
remember the last time THAT happened. Then there are those days when I may do
it five or six times – or more, depending on how I feel that day and what’s been
going on,. Whether or not I have sex actually has little to do with how often I
masturbate. The only impact having sex MAY have is more about whether I have
the opportunity masturbate. After all, there’s only so many hours in a day! To
me, masturbation is something I truly enjoy, not a substitute for sex, so it’s
not unusual for me to have sex and then masturbate immediately afterwards,
especially if the guy isn’t into any snuggling afterwards and just falls asleep.
So anyway... even thought there wasn’t much room and the atmosphere was toxic,
there was no denying the urges I was feeling as my pussy was practically
cramping with hunger – hunger for a dick that is. I hadn’t heard Mr. Eisenberg
get up yet so there was no need to rush back out and deal with Kelly – even if
she WAS in a surprisingly good mood this morning. As I heard her moving around
outside making breakfast, I found myself thinking more about her. Mmmmm, she
had looked really hot this morning in nothing more than a short t-shirt – VERY
short at that. It was more than was a little surprising to see her in such
revealing attire as this was the same woman who recently criticized me for
wearing nothing but a cotton nightshirt that came all the way down to my knees –
a LOT further than hers did this morning. Of course mine was so thin that my
nipples poked through like it wasn’t there. It also seemed to have a mind of
its own with a tendency to ride up over my ass as I slept. My tongue licked
over my dry lips as I thought about how Mrs. Eisenberg’s t-shirt had barely
covered her butt, doing a fine job of showing off her tanned legs. It looked
like she had been wearing panties but I wasn't sure.
Anyone who knows me wouldn’t be surprised that once my mind got into this mode,
there was no stopping me. Cupping my boobs over my nightshirt, I squeezed them
while I fantasized about Kelly’s boobs. They had pushed out against the
undersized t-shirt she had on, stretching the material. OK, so they were way
too big for her frame, at least in my opinion, but even so they looked pretty
damn good under that t-shirt.
OK, so her boobs were nice but what REALLY grabbed my attention had been her
legs. Long and tan, I would have killed to have them - even now. Although I’d
just gotten a quick glimpse, it was enough to see that she had a great ass to
compliment her legs. I wondered how she would’ve reacted had I put my hand
under her t-shirt and caressed her butt as I passed by her this morning. Of
course in reality I knew what she done, probably slapped me and then said who
knows what about me, but still I couldn’t help myself now as I fantasized more
and more about being with her.
My fingers were moving faster on my swelling clit as I imagined Kelly putting
her pretty face between my legs, the feel of her long dark hair against my inner
thighs as she blew her warm breath softly against my wet pussy, then licking me
gently with her outstretched tongue as she tasted her first pussy. As I touched
myself I imagined it was her fingers on me, her tongue licking me, her lips
tugging on my clit as she drove me crazy with desire.
Morning horniness, hot wife, hopes for a fun day.... Under the circumstances, it
didn’t take long for me to cum, especially when my perverted fantasy began to
include Mr. Eisenberg as I imagined him entering the RV, catching the two of us
by surprise. It wouldn't have mattered as by then Kelly and I would be in a 69
position on their bed. Neither of us would be willing to stop, not even for
him. As I came, my pussy was gushing with cum as I imagined her husband jerking
off, stroking his erect dick as he watched his awesome wife and younger mistress
playing together for the first time with who knows what debauchery to come
later.
God, it felt SO good to masturbate, SO good to cum, just so DAMN good! My
breathing was labored by the time I finally pulled my hand from my crotch, then
tasting myself on my fingers as I struggled to catch my breath. It was like I’d
just come in from laying out in the sun, my entire body warm with the afterglow
of my orgasm.
When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, I saw Kelly looking at me. Actually
it was more like staring at me with this odd expression on her face.
“Are you feeling better now?” she asked, an interesting grin barely noticeable
on her face. I hesitated, not sure as to how to answer her. Was this sort of
trick question? Was she referring to feeling better as in after brushing my
teeth and getting cleaned up in the morning? Maybe it was a vague reference to
the feeling of relief at emptying my bladder in the morning? Then again, I
wondered if she knew what I’d REALLY been doing in there for so long. Yet even
if that was the case, I was 100% positive that she would have had no idea WHO
I’d been thinking about as I did myself. Then I wondered how often she
masturbated? As hot as she was and as sexually active as she hinted at being
when she was younger, it would’ve surprised me a lot more if she didn’t spend a
lot of time with her hand between her legs... those incredible legs!
Sorry to go off on a tangent but I have one point I need to make at this point.
Who was the male chauvinistic pig who came up with the ridiculous idea that men
like to masturbate more than women? I would strongly contend that women
masturbate just as much, if not more, than most men. OK, so maybe women don't
openly discuss it as much or make crude references to it the way men do about
jerking off, but that doesn’t mean we don't do it just as much or don't enjoy it
just as much as men. One of the great things about being a women is that I can
masturbate just about anywhere, anytime. Sure, not as well as I can in my bed
laying back naked with my legs spread; but by simply crossing my legs in church
the right way, pressing up against a table leg during dinner at a restaurant, or
even just wearing a really tight pair of jeans I can easily stimulate myself.
Of course, it also helps that girls don’t have to contend with an obvious
erection like men do when they’re horny. Personally, I think a lot of women
masturbate more than men do, we just don't advertise it.
So anyway, rather than respond to Kelly’s query, I chose to sort of side-step
the question and just smiled, leaving it up to her how to interpret it. Kelly
looked at me, frowned, and shook her head saying, “You really are something...
aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question, and I was actually a bit
surprised at HOW she said it to me Until this morning she’d been so mean to
me, condemning me for everything I did throughout the trip and yet now it was
like she was almost accepting of me for who I am. Well, my nagging doubts were
confirmed as it turned out I was being lulled into a false sense of hope by the
bitch.
“So tell me Kelly, when did you start fucking my husband?” she said, casually as
if asking me the time of day. There was no accusing tone, no hint of jealousy
or condemnation. Yet somehow I couldn't help but feel that I was being drawn
into her web, for what purpose I had yet to figure out.
“Well, isn’t that the REAL reason why he invited you with us – to fuck you?” she
continued as I stood there speechless. Then I realized that my lack of response
could be interpreted as an admission that I WAS fucking her husband so I knew I
had to say SOMETHING – and quickly.
Taking a deep breath as discreetly as possible, I replied, “Mrs. Eisenberg, I
know you don't think a lot of me, for whatever reason I have no idea, but that
would be adultery. Your husband is a wonderful Christian man and I’m a
Christian as well so I really don't understand how you can accuse us of such a
horrible thing.”
She just rolled her eyes at me, not buying it for a second. “Nooooo, I didn’t
ask you about HIM, I asked when YOU started fucking him. Don't give me that
look... I see the way he looks at you – and you look at him. And let’s stop
pretending you’re some innocent naďve girl here – I can see you for what you
are. I told you before that I was a lot like you when I was your age so don't
think you can fool me.”
My thoughts raced and I knew I had to offer SOMETHING as she just wasn't going
to believe me if I tried to maintain this story. I wasn’t about to admit to
having sex with her husband, but there were lesser “crimes” that I cold confess
to and hopefully satisfy her inquisition.
“He doesn’t fuck me...OK?” I started out and she immediately rolled her eyes and
huffed but I continued anyway saying, “I'll admit that I’ve teased him and
showed off a little bit but it was just during my job interview with him. You
can’t blame a girl for doing what she has to do to get a job these days, can
you?”
“Actually I CAN blame you,” she cut me off, frowning at me, “So just how far did
this so-called ‘interview’ go?”
Looking back to the other end of the RV, I wondered if her husband was listening
but all I could make out was the sound of his snoring. Looking back at her, I
tried to pretend I was contrite and nervous.
“Well, did you flash him, did he touch you, did you give him a BJ .... c’mon,
what was it?” she pushed me for a response.
“He never touched me,” I said, hoping that would be enough but of course it
wasn't.
“Yeah right... but the question is more like did you touch him?”
As I shook my head I couldn't help but marvel at how easy it was to lie to her.
“No.... neither of us touched the other.”
“So what the hell happened then? Don't try to tell me nothing – I know better
than that.”
I looked down, avoiding eye contact with her as if I was embarrassed. In
reality, I was feeling horny as hell telling her all this, even if it WAS a
complete fabrication.
“I..... I masturbated for him.”
She shook her head again. “OK, and how many times did you do it?”
“Just during the second interview is all... he asked me how badly I wanted the
job and so I let him watch me.”
“Sounds like something the bastard would pull,” she muttered, her face a perfect
image of disgust. “So did you enjoy putting on your little show for my husband?
I bet you did.. you look like the type who would get off from that sort of
thing.”
It was all I could do to keep from grinning as I thought about how she would
react if she knew just how much I’d enjoyed everything he’d done to me, not to
mention a couple of days ago! Then again, what was with this comments about me
looking like “the type who would”?
“Yes I did... I liked the way he looked at me,” I confessed softly, trying
desperately not to sound like I was bragging.
“And did my husband jerk off while he watched you playing with yourself?”
“Yes, of course he did,” I replied meekly, knowing she would never have believed
me if I’d said anything else.
She sat there for a moment as if digesting everything she’d just been told. In
some ways she actually didn't look all that upset, as if this was just
confirmation of what she already knew and come to grips with earlier. It made
me wonder if he had done something like this before with another woman.
“The horny bastard... doesn’t really surprise me though,” she muttered, “so what
about after that? Did he fuck you?”
“No... we haven’t done anything since that one time,” I lied straight to her
face
“Was that your choice or his?” she fired back.
Again I pretended to be embarrassed, even a little contrite as I responded,
“Well, it was his actually, I wanted him to but he wouldn't do me.... I’m really
sorry.”
Mrs. Eisneberg looked at me closely, like she was trying to determine what
species of insect I was.
“Well, at least I have to give the bastard credit for THAT,” she murmured, “I
suppose you enjoy seducing married men. Does it get you off, boost your ego?”
She paused, gathering in my expressions before saying anything more. “No,,,
don’t say anything, I know how you feel.... just as I also know now how it feels
to be the betrayed wife in this sort of situation.”
There are times when saying nothing is the best course of action and I knew this
was definitely one of them. The tension in the air was electric but then she
seemed to back off as she contemplated some more.
“OK, I guess I’m sorry that I accused you of anything or implied it,” she
suddenly said, her entire demeanor changing suddenly, “You can’t blame me,
considering the way you dress and act around him.”
“Oh it’s not just for him... I dress and act that way all the time,” I blurted
out, trying to help lower the DEFCON level a little more but quickly realizing
it was NOT the right thing to say.
“Yes, I’m sure you do... I’m sure you do,” she said softly, shaking her head
slowly. Then to my complete surprise she looked at me and actually reached
forward to take my hand before adding, “Kelly... someday you’ll be married and
your husband will be tempted by a young slut half your age. Trust me, it WILL
happen... and you’ll react just as I have. I hope you’ll take this as I mean it
- don't make the mistakes I did when I was your age and fuck the guy. It’s not
worth it in the end.”
Now what in the world was THAT about? I looked at her, wondering if she was
going to elaborate but that was the end of whatever it was that was going on
between us. It was like a hypnotist snapping her fingers and suddenly we were
back to normal again. Mrs. Eisenberg returned to making breakfast, saying not
another word to me as if nothing had happened at all. Wow, it was a little
surreal to say the least.
Mr. Eisneberg woke up not much later and they decided to take the RV instead of
the car to Disneyland. I guess it was suppose to be a cost-cutting move as they
figured they could save some money on meals if they ate in the RV instead of in
the park. Personally, I thought the few extra bucks for food would have been
better than having to unhook everything in order to get the gas-guzzler RV on
the road; but they were paying so who was I to say anything. Without further
incident, we soon were on the highway, bound for the Magic Kingdom.
Chapter 2 – Pirates and Bears
=============================
The last time I was at a Disney theme park I wasn’t quite yet a teenager and
then it was to Disney World in Orlando. This was to be my first time at the
original Disneyland and really, can ANYONE not be a little excited about going
there? Unfortunately my first impression was one of surprise, even a bit of a
let-down. It was in the middle of a city! I guess back when it was created
Anaheim was more isolated but now you drove through the city and just turn into
Disneyland. Not quite the “you’re entering another world” feeling you get in
Florida.
With the RV, we were directed to a special parking lot with bigger parking
spots. Then it was into the park for what I hoped would be a day of fun.
Overall, it WAS a nice day and it might have been more so had their daughters
been with us to provide some of that younger excitement, but they weren’t due to
return from their camp until evening so it was just the three of us. Anyone
seeing our trio would’ve thought we were just a typical family. Most people
probably figured I was a sister or a niece or something like that as the
Eisenberg’s didn’t look nearly old enough to have a 24 year-old daughter.
Looking around I realized that I was dressed about the same as most of the girls
were – shorts and a tank top. I’d decided to wear sneakers even though many
people, including Mrs. Eisenberg, wore flip-flops or sandals but I knew we’d be
doing a LOT of walking and I wanted to be able to still be able to feel my feet
at the end of the day!
Before going any further, I need to say something to those reading this and
expecting to hear all about how I fucked half the staff and who knows who else.
Let me say this now and get it over with – I did NOT fuck Mr. Eisenberg in the
park. In fact, I did NOT have sex with anyone else either. For that matter, I
did NOT even give a single blowjob! Now how’s THAT for shocking news? In case
you’re wondering why, it wasn’t any altruistic motives on my part but rather
more the result of Mrs. Eisenberg acting as my personal shadow for most of the
day. She may have claimed to believe me with regards to her husband, but she
wasn't taking any chances either.
On the plus side, it wasn't a totally platonic day either. One nice thing about
many Disney rides is you typically sit in some sort of vehicle or boat or
whatever and watch the exhibits as they go by. Because many of the rides relied
on visual effects, there are lots of times when the rooms would be dark or dimly
lit – perfect for a little groping! Rides like the Pirates of the Caribbean and
shows like the Country Bear Jamboree were among the best opportunities we took
advantage of during the morning.
In some ways it was like going back to my high school days again when boys would
try to feel me up whenever they thought nobody could see. Movie theaters were a
favorite spot for the “wandering hands” and many a movie I spent with my blouse
half undone or a hand on my thigh trying to reach up under my skirt. So it was
with Mr. Eisenberg who took advantage of literally every opportunity to touch
and grope me. The moment the lights would go out or he thought nobody could see
us, his hand was instantly on me, touching the inner thighs of my legs, feeling
my boobs, rubbing my ass, even rubbing my crotch through my shorts. The only
thing that prevented him from doing it more often was when his wife made sure
she sat between the two of us. It was a little funny in a way, watching the two
of them battle it out, neither of them wanting to admit what they were really
doing as they jockeyed to see who would sit next to me. I would say it was
about a 50-50 split by the time the day was over.
Before we’d arrived I’d hoped that there would be some opportunity to get
fucked, or at LEAST give a BJ, while in the park, if for no other reason than to
be able to brag about it later. Alas, it was incredibly crowded! Put that
together with the ball and chain around my ankle (in the form of Mrs.
Eisenberg), and I resigned myself early on that it was just going to be one of
those days. Still, it wasn’t a COMPLETE loss as I can’t tell you how many other
fathers, husbands and sons stared at me during the day. Although I tried to act
as if I didn't notice, I did my best to give them whatever view I could without
actually doing anything that would get me tossed from the theme park. Just
innocent flirting but it was still fun, especially when the wife or mother
caught on to what they were doing!
Chapter 3 – The Parking Lot
===========================
Earlier I had said that Mr. Eisenberg didn’t fuck me IN the park.... OK,
technically I was telling the truth, but maybe not the complete story.
True to their cost-reduction plans, we all went back to the RV to eat lunch. It
seemed silly to me to spend all the time traversing back and forth, and then
have to wait for the air-conditioning to cool the hot interior after baking in
the California sun all morning. Still, I couldn't complain since they were
paying for all my expense today. On the way back in, I asked if they cared that
I look around on my own, maybe to do some shopping or whatever. Mrs. Eisenberg
looked at me and I could have sworn a sly grin started to form on her face. Was
she thinking that maybe I was hoping to get laid or something? Sure, I would
have loved that as well but the truth was just as I had told her. Then again,
should I just happen to run into some cute hunk.... or girl.... I wasn’t going
to turn anything down, that was for sure. Was she encouraging me? Maybe a
little reverse psychology in hopes that if I got laid by someone else I would
leave her husband alone?
Actually, I DID want to buy a few things for my dad and a few close friends back
home so I headed for Main Street to shop. About an hour later, after my dad’s
credit card had sustained some serious damage, my cell phone buzzed to tell me
somebody had texted me. As I searched for my phone in my purse, I figured it
had to be Kristi or Beth – who else would be texting me using this phone number?
To my surprise, it wasn’t either one of them or anyone else from back in
Pittsburgh – it was from Mr. Eisenberg!
“RV – 10 minutes.”
That’s all it said. Odds were he had to sneak off somewhere just to send that
much given the way his wife had been keeping such close tabs on him all day.
Probably was in the men’s room. Now what was this all about?
When I approached the RV, I saw it was running and I could hear the air-
conditioning unit rumbling on top. Somebody was already here, that much was
obvious. For a brief moment I panicked. What if it was his wife, setting me up
with the intention of accusing me of coming out here to fuck her husband. Of
course she would’ve been correct, but that doesn’t mean she had to know it!
From what I was starting to see in her, she seemed plenty devious enough to pull
off such a stunt and so for a brief moment I seriously considered going back to
the park before I got myself in hot water with her. I turned around, hesitated,
and then turned back to the RV again. No, I just couldn't see her doing such a
thing so it HAD to be him.
The door was unlocked (which was good since I’d left my keys inside) and so I
entered as the cool interior air flowed out the open door. At first I didn't
see anyone but then I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye towards the
back and realized someone was on the bed. Without the lights on and the window
curtains being pulled, it was too dark at first for me to make out who it was
this far way. Well, there was only one person who it had BETTER be!
“Mr. Eisneberg?” I called back to the shadowy figure. No response. OK, NOW
what was going on? My eyes began to adjust to the dim light and I could see him
better now
“Well it’s about time you made it. Now get those clothes, get up here and suck
my dick you little bitch!” he suddenly demanded. Huh? Not even a “hello”?
What was with the “bitch” comment?
“Dammit, don't just stand there like an idiot... I said to strip!” he demanded
in an even more forceful tone.
Well, it’s not like I hadn’t intended to get naked sooner or later. As I
quickly undressed in compliance with his commands, my mind was racing. I had
NOT counted on being TOLD to do this– and especially not in such a forceful
manner.
Once I was naked, I got up on the bed where Mr. Eisenberg was laying on his
back, also naked with his dick already nice and hard. In fact, he was so stiff
that it actually curved back such that it was now parallel to his stomach, the
head staring him straight in the face as he stroked it slowly with his right
hand.
“What the hell are you waiting for? Suck my dick!” he growled, as if he was mad
at me about something and was seeking retribution by “forcing” me to suck his
cock. Of course, there was no reluctance on my part when it came to sucking his
cock, just a nagging curiosity as to WHY he was behaving this way towards me.
Was this some sort of fantasy, maybe a role play for him? If so, it would’ve
been nice to have forewarned me.
With my eyes fixed on his dick, I laid on my side in a sort of fetal position
alongside his outstretched hairy legs, leaning over his stomach and bending my
head down to take his erect dick in my mouth. He immediately put his hand on
the top of my head, pushing it down onto his dick, driving his cock into my
mouth and against the back of my throat.
“There... that’s better... much better,” he groaned as my mouth and tongue went
to work on him. “So you’ve been talking to my wife, eh? Telling her about us?”
So THAT’S what this was all about! Horrified, I started to lift my head off his
dick to try and explain but he grabbed me hair and drove my face back into his
crotch again.
“Don’t take your mouth off of me dammit... you’ve nothing to say, I know
everything you told her,” he said in a disturbing voice, “She told me all about
it after lunch... everything.” Then he paused for effect and added, “You can’t
be so stupid as to think a guy’s wife won’t say anything when you tell her
something like that? How could you be so stupid to tell her that? Crap, how
could you tell her we masturbated together? You’re nothing but a stupid bitch!”
Feeling a ;little bit worried now, I wanted to explain myself, to tell him I had
no choice, that she knew SOMETHING was up between us so I gave her just enough
to feel it was true without revealing everything. Unfortunately, he didn't seem
to be in the mood for a logical discussion.
“That’s it.... suck my dick you little whore. You’ll do anything to keep that
job, I know it. Even whore yourself out to me... isn’t that what you’re
doing?”
Well of course it was and he knew it well enough that he didn't need me to
explain anything. Indeed, this was more like a lecture than a questioning. He
knew all the answers already, or at least he thought he knew them. Either way,
he wasn't going to listen to my side of anything in his current frame of mind,
that was for sure.
“Enough of that... get on your hands and knees you stupid cunt,” he said
suddenly as he got up from being on his back. I complied with his demands,
figuring he wanted to fuck me from behind as he seemed to enjoy that position
the most.
“Now I’m going to show you what happens to naughty little girls that run off to
a guy’s wife and spill everything,” he said.
Now THAT wasn’t really fair of him. After all, I HAD acted in his best interest
by telling his wife enough to satisfy her curiosity but not so much as to
confirm her suspicions of adultery. I was about to protest when I felt his
hands split my butt cheeks apart and then he started rubbing my pussy, putting
his fingers in me to wet them so he could lubricate the rest of me. I felt his
finger slide upwards toward my asshole and then, without warning, he plunged one
of them into my asshole! Imagine my surprise when out of the blue he had his
finger buried in my ass – NOT something I would ever had wanted him to do to me,
not ever.
“No!” I started to protest, “Not my asshole!”
He was a lot stronger than me but I still almost managed to pull away from his
finger before he had his other arm around my waist, pulling me back into
position.
“You’re a naughty girl... a dirty girl... and dirty girls have to pay for being
so bad,” he droned on as he fingered my ass. I felt a cool wetness and then his
finger slid more easily into me as he must have poured some lotion or oil on my
ass to make it easier to get his finger in me. The lube also made it easier for
something other than his finger to fit in my asshole...
Mr. Eisneberg pulled his dirty finger out of me and I felt him repositioning
himself as if he was finished but it was far from over so far as my ass was
concerned.
“Mmmmm, I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you,” he murmured as I
felt the mushroomed cock head of his dick at the opening of my asshole.
“Please.... no!” I pleaded with him. This was NOT what I’d signed up for when I
told him he could fuck me if he gave me the job.
“Shut up and tell me you want it in your ass,” he demanded, and then went silent
to see what I would say. When I didn’t respond quickly enough, he slapped my
bare bottom – hard, and then he demanded yet again, “Tell me... I want you to
bed for it in your ass.”
If I protested it would probably only get even worse for me so I accepted the
inevitable.
“Yes Mr. Eisenberg, I want you to do it. I want your dick in my ass, fuck my
asshole - PLEASE!”
Of all the lies I’d told today, that one would be pretty tough to beat. It was
about the LAST place I wanted his dick! I don’t understand it, not at all. I
have a mouth that LOVES to suck cock and, if I may say so, does a pretty good
job of it. Then there’s my pussy, which also loves to feel a dick inside of it.
It’s wet and warm and can grip a dick pretty hard and make him cum. So why
would any man want to shove his nice clean dick up where I poop from? It’s not
so much I don't like being fucked in my ass. Although it’s not my favorite I can
imagine much worse things to do for a man. For me it’s just the mental image of
what normally comes out of there that just makes me grossed out. Even when a
man DOES fuck me in the ass, or even if he just licks my asshole, I will refuse
to kiss him or allow his mouth anywhere on me until he is scrubbed all nice and
clean again.
Well, I missed my calling as an actress as Mr. Eisenberg bought everything I
said - hook, line, and sinker as they say. I closed my eyes and tried not to
grimace a I prepared for him to fuck my asshole. For better or worse, I didn't
have to wait long as the end of his cock was soon pushing against my resisting
asshole.
“God damn, your fucking tighter than I expected!” he groaned as he pushed hard
against my ass but couldn't seem to get his dick to penetrate me back there. I
remember thinking that it shouldn’t have surprised him given my preferences for
anything BUT an ass fucking!.
With one great push that practically knocked me to the bed, he rammed his dick
into my ass, giving me this most peculiar feeling. Not the sexy, fulfilling
feeling I get when my pussy is first filled by a dick. Oh my God, I thought I
was going to be sick at first from the sudden pain of practically being ripped
in half! Then when he pulled out at first I felt incredibly embarrassed as it
felt like I was pooping but then I realized it was something else leaving my
ass, creating a similar sensation.
This wasn't the first time I’d been fucked in my ass so it wasn't like I had
never felt these things before, but it HAD been along time and so it may as well
have been the first time all over again. My ass certainly wasn't use to this,
that was for sure! Thank god he had dumped a ton of oil on his dick and over my
asshole. It made it easier for both of us actually and I suppose it had to feel
better for him to be able to slide his cock more easily into whatever hole he
was using on my body. I had to give him credit for one thing, he a beach towel
under us, something I hadn’t really thought about at first but now I realized
that without it he would have had a hard time explaining all the oil on the
bedding!
I feel forward onto my elbows from the force of him slamming into my ass, which
actually worked out for the better as it caused my ass to angle up at him at a
more natural angle for him to fit into me. I’m sure it also gave him a better
view although for the life of me why anyone gets off looking at my asshole is
beyond me.
“Damn your ass is incredible,” he groaned as he slid his oil-covered dick in and
out of me. “You want me in your ass, don't you.. you fucking whore! C’mon,
tell me how much you want my dick in your ass.”
Hoping it might get him off faster if I did as he asked, I began to moan and
buck under him, telling him over and over how I loved him fucking me, how much I
loved him to be in my ass, and finally, the grand finale, I even faked a HUGE
orgasm for him which he seemed to buy 100%. Although all my acting efforts
didn’t seem to get him to cum any faster, at least it seemed to distract him
from any other kinky ideas he might be harboring.
“Oh yeah, I’m gonna cum,, damn... almost there, where do you want it bitch?”
I knew the last place I wanted it, in my mouth. One thing I had never done was
to take a dick in my mouth after it had been in my ass or anyone else’s, at
least until he showered again. There was absolutely no way I was going to suck
on his cock after fucking me in my asshole and I was a little scared he might
demand it, wondering what he would do to me if I refused.
“Cum in my ass,” I told him, figuring it was the least of all the evils. My
mouth was the last place I wanted it and even my pussy made me cringe from the
thoughts of the bad hygiene involved. God, last thing I wasted was some vaginal
fungus from his cock being in my ass before then. “Cum deep in my ass Mr.
Eisneberg... PLEASE!” I pretended to beg. All I knew was that I was thrilled
that he as about to cum and finally bring this nightmare to a close.
“Fuck yeah, I’m cumming.... oh yeah,” he groaned a I felt him jerking with each
thrust even deeper into my sore ass with each load of cum. Other than the force
of his thrusts I couldn't feel anything so I had to take his word for it that he
was cumming in my ass. Well, why would he lie anyways?
He pulled almost out of me for the last couple of loads. Obviously he had been
watching too many “cream-pie” videos and wanted to see his cum leak from my
asshole. Oh well, why not?
“Oh yeah, not THAT’S how it’s done,” he mumbled to himself, all but patting
himself on the back for what he had done to me. He pushed my ass cheeks apart
and watched as I felt the last bit of his cum dribbling down from out of my ass.
I could only hope he would ask me to eat it! Thankfully, he didn’t. Probably
because the thought never entered his mind than anything else like being
considerate of my feelings.
Like a typical guy, once he’d cum it was like someone had turned off his horny
switch and he was all business. I guess a positive way to look at the whole
thing was that I never got that far along myself to feel frustrated from not
having my needs satisfied. Of course I was a bit sad that it hadn’t worked out
the way it COULD have, but when you’re doing it for the reasons I was, you can’t
always count on it going your way all the time.
“I’d better get back before she starts wondering what happened to me,” he
explained. I wondered what excuse he could have possibly concocted to leave her
in the first place but he never volunteered the information. “You’re suppose to
meet us in an hour so maybe you should clean up a bit before coming back. Don't
want you running around with an oily ass staining your shorts you know!”
How considerate of him. Like her really cared about ME. No, I knew he was more
worried about how his wife would wonder why I was so oily – and then look at her
guilty husband for the answer.
Indeed, once he left I thought about a shower but first I just laid back in the
bed. My asshole felt like I’d been poked with a telephone pole and I wasn't
looking forward to sitting down much for a while. I felt horny but yet for some
reason I couldn't bring myself to even masturbate – and THAT should say
something all by itself as to how I felt after what Mr. Eisneberg had done to
me. Damn, when was the last time I ever said I did NOT want to masturbate???
Finally I got up and showered and dressed once again. The heat hit me like a
wall when I exited the RV, damn it was a lot hotter it seemed than not even that
long ago when I had walked over here. It was almost time to meet the Eisenbergs
by the Town Hall so I hustled back and managed to get there a few minutes before
they showed up.
“Have a good time this afternoon?” his wife asked me, winking at me. It sort of
surprised me – was she actually hinting that she was hoping I’d gotten a lid, or
even just a BJ? Talk about a Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde personality! I just
grinned in response, my asshole feeling a little sore to remind me of the abuse
it had taken not so long before. It was miracle I could walk with being bow-
legged!
We had to get back and get ready for the evening service so it was an early
earlier departure for us than most people. I was shifting back and forth in my
seat all the way back, trying to get comfortable. God my ass hurt! I was
feeling a little pissed at Mr. Eisneberg for taking advantage of me like that.
I couldn't help but thin that maybe next time I would just refuse to let him
fuck me in the ass and then see what happens.
All the way back to the RV park, his wife sat across from me and I got the
feeling she was dying to hear about what I had done when I was my own this
afternoon. Was she now using me as some sort of way for her to relive her
younger years? I wondered just what she had done back then. Other than a few
vague hints, she pretty much kept it to herself. For that matter, I wondered if
her husband even knew everything she had done?
All I knew for sure was that it promised to be an interesting school year this
fall!
THE END
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