The following is not real. Some of you know have known me will recognize some of the people, but this is not how this actually happened. People suggested I try writing something else so here you go.

So, Im going to be straight up for a second. I think about fucking everyone I meet. I think about how they would feel under my hands. Or how I could make them cum. I think about what kinky stuff they might be into. Is the fat old charge nurse into anal? What would that paramedic do if I asked him to piss on me? Would the clerk that checked me out at the store rim me if I went down on him?
All of these and more race through my mind. Normally I push them out of the way. Sometimes I dwell on them, and try to find out. And that’s how it was with my father in law.
From the moment I saw him, I wanted to fuck him. Joe and I had just started dating and we had gone to his parents house. My future father in law (lets call him Frank) was a runner. Not just recreationally. He liked to do marathons and shit like that. As such, he was in amazing shape. Athletic and slim. His muscles were well defined under his skin, and he had the sharp facial figures like a sculpture. His hair was still black, aside from the gray that had begun to appear at his temples.
To be fair, I was in shape then too. More than one, actually. They were just circles of various sizes.
From that day forward, I wanted to fuck him. I wouldn’t say I was obsessed, but I did think about it often. I was still occasionally fucking Joe’s brother, so I would find myself comparing their cocks. Joe’s wasn’t small, necessarily, but it lacked his brother’s girth. I began to wonder what it would take to get Frank to fuck around on his wife. He had raised one son to have an intense moral direction. Joe doesn’t like anything I like in the bedroom, mostly because he finds it degrading to me.
On the other hand, his other son was a complete dirtbag. He was the one that came on to me first. To be fair, I kept it going after the wedding, but he could have said no. What kind of a guy fucks his brothers wife the day they leave for their honeymoon?
So what kind of guy was Frank? One of his sons was an outlier, but which one? And then what kind of woman would not only entice him to cheat, but to fuck his sons wife as well. It was the kind of challenge I rose to. I had to find out. It would be quite the accomplishment, fucking all the men in a family. Well, aside from mine, I guess.
It would be a process. A long one. Find out if he would cheat. Find out if he would cheat with a fat girl. Find out if he would cheat with a fat daughter in law. Finally find out if he wanted a whore or an angel. I could do either, but angel was temporary. I would see him pretty regularly, once week or so, more often during the summer. He had a pool, you see, and Joe loved to swim.
So I got to work. First step was to see if he was even interested. I waited until the next time we went swimming. That would be a few weeks away, so I contented myself through masturbation that mostly involved him and my dad tag teaming me. By the time we were actually going, not even these clit sessions could tide me over.
I had thought about doing a two piece, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I settled on my one piece. It would be sufficient for this. The changing room was their bedroom, and it had a sliding glass door that led to the pool. There was a curtain to pull to cover it. I thought about leaving the curtain open, but there was never a time when he was the only one in line of sight. Disappointed, I headed to the pool to join the others.
It was while swimming that I saw my first opportunity. The pool itself was a saltwater pool, and at one end was a hot tub fixture that overflowed in a waterfall into the pool itself. Frank was standing by the waterfall, talking to Joe, who was in the tub. I dove under the water, and while I swam to the waterfall, I adjusted by suit so that I had a nipple peaking out. I wasn’t able to be sure, and I didn’t want too much to show, but it was a gamble.
I rose out of the water next to Frank, my left nipple exposed. I slid up next to him and asked what they were up to. Joe couldn’t see my tits from his position, No one else would be in line of sight if I turned towards Frank. Slowly, with the waterfall falling on me, I turned towards him and asked him what he was drinking.
He looked to me and opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes went right to my tit. I held my breath. Would he say something? Would he freak out? Would he just stare?
The latter. As he responded to me, I slowly exhaled the breath I had been holding. His eyes were flicking between Joe, me, and my nipple. I was looking him over too. His chest had a small v shaped patch of graying hair, his nipples sat flush against his body. His neck was ridged by firm tendons and muscles. Fucking hell he was sooo hot. Joe began moving toward the stairs so I dipped down and fixed my suit.
I swam away eagerly awaiting my next chance. I was optimistic about this thing for the first time. Pushing the envelope and taking chances were such a turn on for me that I was spent the rest of the swim time rubbing my clit hidden by the water.
We caught eyes a few times after that, but he didn’t really betray anything else. A plan took form. I would be the last to get out. I would go into the room to change, and somehow entice him in there once I had stripped out of my suit and covered myself. Then, a quick flash, or something. I wasn’t sure yet.
As luck would have it, Frank and I were the last two. Improvising, I got out and piddled around outside until Joe had finished changing. I went in, and began to look around the room for something to give me an excuse to get him in here. I had to hurry, and act while he was alone in the pool area. If anyone else was there, they might come instead.
It didn’t take long. There was a hamper in the bathroom for towels, but Joe had been Joe and just piled them on top of it. Under the pile of wet towels, it might be missed. I stripped out of my suit, and wrapped myself in a dry towel. I rushed to the door and looked out. He was still alone, but he was out of the pool.
I slid the door open. “Hey Frank. Where do I put my towels?”
He looked at me in the towel, and flipped his head to the main doors into the house, possibly to see were everyone was, then back to me. “I-In the bathroom, Claire.” He said.
“I looked I don’t see it. Can you show me?” I asked. Deliberately I looked down. His wet trunks clung to his body. It wasn’t hard to see the outline of his cock, hanging flaccid, along his body. It was hard to gage, but he looked bigger than either of his sons. I let my eyes linger, then went back to his face. I bit my lower lip.
Wordlessly he started towards me. “Thanks, Frank.” I said, retreating back into the room before he got there. Now what? I thought to myself. Just dropping the towel would be a high risk high reward situation. If he reacts poorly, it might be impossible to say it was just an accident. Instead, I sat on his bed, facing the bathroom. I spread my legs, leaving the towel on, but parted just enough.
He came in and stopped. My breath caught again. For what seemed like an eternity he stared at me. He smiled slightly, but it was gone as quick as it came. He moved to the bathroom.
“Oh.” He said as he rounded the corner. “Fuckin’ Joe.” He said. He leaned down to begin picking the towels up. He turned his head to me. His eyes right between my legs. I know he could see my pussy. “Does he at least put thigs away at home?”
I just shook my head, looking at him. He looked away and stood. “Well, there’s the hamper. You can put the towel in there.”
I stood, bent over to grab the wet one I had used, and walked into the bathroom, passing him in the door way. I turned sideways, ass to him, as I slipped through. I stuck my ass out, and brushed it across his groin, feeling his bulge as I did so. I dropped the towel in the hamper.
I turned to Frank. He was staring at me. “Can you hand me my clothes? They are on the bed.” His face was red as he turned and proceeded into the room. As soon as his back was turned, I went for it. I dropped the towel. He returned and stopped as soon as he saw me. “Thanks.” I said. And I took the clothes. He stared at me. At my tits. My pussy.
“Claire, I-“ he began. I closed the door.
Fuck. I needed to cum. I heard the door slide open and then close. I thought about his cock, I thought about him pinning me in the doorway and forcing it into me. I wondered if he would try to fuck my ass. My fingers went to my clit. It didn’t take long before I was cumming.
After, I took stock of where I was. I had gone for broke. It hadn’t blown up in my face. And I felt like I knew he would cheat. I felt like he liked big tits, and I felt that he wanted me to be slutty. Maybe this would be easy.
I was wrong. The next few swim days he was noticeably absent. His wife had said that he was running errands or something like that. She never seemed bothered. I fucked myself after one day imaging he had told her and we were going to have a threesome.
The next chance would be an unexpected one.
It was Labor Day. I remember because I was off and Joe worked, taking the double time that he would get. Joe was already gone when I woke, and knowing that I would have 7 hours in the house alone had me wet thinking about who I was going to have over to fuck. I had begun to flip through my contacts when the phone rang, the caller ID showing it was Joes cell. My heart sank. He had to be telling me that he was coming home early.
“Hey, babe.” I answered, forcing a yawn.
“You just getting up?”
“Yeah. Whats up?”
“I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go into the garage and grab a tool and bring it to my dad.” He said.
I sat straight up. “Yeah I can do that.”
“Mom has the car and she’s out at my aunts. He told me not to worry about it, but hes been looking forward to this project for a while.”
“Sure!” I jumped out of bed as he talked me through the garage and the location of the tool. Once identified, I let him go, and began to plot my course of action.
He was clearly hesitant. But he couldn’t trust himself around me. He knew what the game was, he knew he would lose, and he was just trying not to play. I needed to be able to get him to the table.
Clothes would be key. It was a little cooler, too cool for shorts, but leggings would work. No panties. The top would be a little trickier. My tits are huge, H Cups. Braless wasn’t an option, but I had an ill fitting balconette that let the tops of my areolas pop out if I positioned it right. A white camisole and light black sweater completed the outfit. I checked myself out in the mirror. A quick tug on the camisole brought a hint of areola into view. Perfect.
I went out to the truck, threw the tool in the back and headed off to my in laws house. The whole ride over there I had the butterflies in my stomach that were my vice. That anticipation of something new and different. The pushing of boundaries, the taboo of the act, the risk of getting caught. All were combining to give me a high that nothing else could touch.
By the time I pulled into the gravel driveway, my pussy was aching. As I rolled to a stop, I realized I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to do. I had been so preoccupied thinking about fucking him, that I hadn’t even bothered to think about how I was going to do it.
As I got out of the truck, Frank came out from the side of the house. He was in jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt. Sawdust clung to it. He stopped when he say me, but then continued on.
“What are you doing here, Claire?” There was a tinge of anger. Good.
“Joe told me you needed this.” I went to the back and pulled out the saw.
“Yeah I told him not to worry about it.”
“Well he worried.” I passed the saw to him.
He looked me up and down. “Tell him thanks.” He said and then turned with the saw and headed back to the house.
Fuck. This wasn’t working. I watched as he turned around back. He was resisting, but I saw it in his eyes. I know that look. Seen it in plenty of men’s eyes. I pulled the black sweater off, threw it in the truck, and headed off in his footsteps.
I rounded the corner and saw him in his workshop. Formerly a detached garage, he had turned it into his hobby room a few years ago. There was a piece of wood on two stands that he was measuring. A few stools and chairs littered the perimeter of the shop. When he saw me, he stopped and sighed.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“Claire, why are you here?”
“Im bored.” I said, biting my lip. “Joe is at work, and hes not as entertaining as he could be even when he is home.
“W-well I got a lot of stuff to do here, and I’m not going to be entertaining anyway.” He returned to measuring.
“Well, anything is better than being alone at the house.” I found one of the rocking chairs and sat in it. So far, so good, but I was running out of moves. The silences persisted for a few minutes while he measured and marked different pieces of wood. Then it hit me. I had a plan. All I had to do was wat for my opening.
It didn’t take long. After about 5 more minutes of silence, he left to go inside to get something. I took my shot. As soon as he was gone, I jumped up and headed for the pool. Flipping the cover on the control panel, I flipped the tub to on. I raced back to the shop, and I stripped off all my clothes, placing them in the chair I was sitting in. I then raced through the brisk air to the tub, where I slid in.
The water was ice cold. My nipples immediately hardened. The water coming from the jets was warm, but still, my teeth began to chatter. I prayed the water would heat up quickly.
I heard the side door open. He was heading back into the shop. It didn’t take long before he rounded the corner. I waved at him. He slowly walked over.
“Claire. What the hell are you doing?”
“Entertaining myself.” I said. I made a show of pushing my hands down to my pussy. “Since you wont, I have to find something to do.”
“This ain’t right, Claire. Theres something wrong with you.”
I smiled and closed my eyes as my fingers slipped inside me. “Mmmhm.” I moaned in agreement. “Very wrong.” I said.
He watched me finger myself. He didn’t leave. I went all in. I stood and began to walk out of the tub. The chill in the air brought my chattering teeth back. “I’m going to go into the house and Im going to be entertaining myself. If you are bored, you should follow me.” And I headed for the sliding door.
I entered, thought about the couch, but decided against getting it all wet, and went to the floor instead. I got down on all fours, ass in the air, and began to play with my pussy. I rubbed my asshole too.
I heard the door open and smiled. I had won.
I rolled over and lay on my back. He stood over me. He began to undo his jeans and I moved to my knees. “You are going to love this, Frank.” I told him.
I was eager to finally see this cock. As his jeans fell I reached up and took his boxers in my hands, I pulled them down.
It was wonderful. Bigger than either of his sons. A good 6 or 7 inches, if I have to guess, but thick. His balls hung in a sack covered in gray pubic hairs. I opened my mouth, and licked the length of his shaft, my eyes locked with his. From the tip to the base, and then back again. He began to grow. I took him into my mouth and began to suck. Using my mouth, suction, tongue, suction, tongue. He grew to an impressive level of fullness in my mouth. I pulled it out.
“Gag me, daddy.” I said before plunging down on it again. This time I felt him hit the back of my throat and the first gag began. I felt his hand on the back of my head as he held me there. Oh yes. He wanted a whore. I’d give him that.
He let me up and I pulled back, rubbing the slime covered cock on my face. “You are so much bigger than Joe.” I said.
“Shut the fuck up.” He said and he forced it back in my mouth. Another round of gaging began. When he let me up from it, I went back to his balls, letting the cock lay across my face. I licked and gently sucked each ball, and then I moved lower. He moved back. He looked at me confused. “What are you doing?”
Poor bastard. He’d never been rimmed. I smiled. I stood and undid his shirt. Once off I sucked and nibbled at his nipples as I walked him back to his chair. He fell down into it. I returned to my knees and the blow job. Building up a good supply of saliva, I worked down to his balls again, and then to under them.
It was clear he had been working, but it turned me on even more. Lower and further I pushed, my tongue searching for his ass. I could hear him moaning. I reached up and grabbed his cock. Mainly to keep him from jerking it and cumming too quick. I finally found it. I thought about how wanton and whoreish I was being. On my knees, with my tongue on my husbands fathers ass.
“Fucking hell, Claire.” He moaned. I pulled out.
“Betty doesn’t to that, does she?” I smiled.
He shook his head and stood up. It was his turn to take control. He turned me around and began kissing my neck and rubbing my tits. I felt his cock pressing into my back. He reached down and inserted a finger into my pussy. I felt him pushing me down and over. I resumed my position on my knees, my shoulders and head on the carpet.
“Fuck me daddy.” I said.
“Where?” he asked
“Anywhere you want.”
“Does he do anal?” I shook my head no, preparing for the possibility that I was about to take a pretty big cock in my ass. “Just my pussy.”
I felt the head at my ass. I reached back and spread for him. “Yessss, daddy.” He began to push in. I gasped when he first popped in. We had no lube, aside from my spit, and he was bigger than any I had been buttfucked with in a while. I let my cheeks go. The pain was reaching my threshold. I took my other hand and went to my clit, hoping to off set it.
That seemed to work. The searing pain became more bearable. “Im a whore. Im a whore. Im a whore.” I began to repeat to myself reminding myself that I wanted this. He began to slid in and out.
“Do you fuck Bettys ass, Frank?”
“Call me daddy.”
“Do you fuck Bettys ass, Daddy?”
“Not in a while.” It turned me on even more that Betty used to take dicks in her ass.
“Pull my hair daddy.” He obliged as he began to pick up speed. He had the stamina I expected from a runner, as well as the endurance.
He was pounding my ass now. My own fingers had brought me to the point of climax. I screamed as the cum took me, clinching my ass around his thick invading cock. I fully expected him to cum. But he slowed down. Not wanting to hurt me as my ass was clenching, he slowed, delaying his own satisfaction.
As soon as I subsided, we resumed the fucking. His relentless assault on my body. I couldn’t wait to have him fucking my pussy like this. “Im gonna cum, Claire.” He exclaimed.
“Do it daddy. Cum inside me.”
With a shudder he did. With each pump he moaned and shook. I couldn’t feel him cumming, but I knew it was a lot. I only felt it as he fell out of my ass. He fell next to me, catching his breath. I moved to my side and snuggled up next to him. “Good?” he asked me.
“Better than both your sons.” I smiled.
He looked at me shocked for a moment. Before he began to smile, letting his head fall back to the floor. “Wow. You are a whore. But you are an amazing fuck.”
I smiled and looked down at his cock. The cum coated it, but it didnt look bad. I leaned over and took it into my mouth. He looked at me with a mixture of lust and confusion. I felt his cock twitch a little in my mouth.
I pulled off it. “I want you to fuck my pussy next.”

Today I posted a Craigslist add I've posted maybe a dozen times before with no luck -- but re-posting takes minimal effort and it couldn't hurt to try. Sure enough, this time it was well worth it.

The jist of the ad is "I'd like a massage, maybe you would too? Let's have a fun, intimate experience and trade massages." Of course, with a nod towards it being something more - but not explicitly so.

So I got a bite, from a fit, 29 year old Asian girl. (I'm a 29 year old fit/thin white guy.) Her body is maybe a 7, no tits, but slim and a good ass, and her face is maybe a high 8. I'm probably in the 7 range myself, depending on the day, so I was game. That said, I know from experience on CL that most responses are catfish and guys just dicking you around, so I even though we picked a time for her to come over, I wasn't 100% convinced that she'd show up, or that she would be a she, until the knock came at my apartment door.

I'd laid out a towel on the bed and warmed some massage oil. She was shy and a bit awkward, so I tried to project a relaxed and non threatening attitude as I gestured toward the bed and said "whenever you're ready."

She started to take off her dress, revealing a pink lacy thong, "Should I take off all of it?" she asked.

"Whatever you're comfortable with."

Well, she must have been comfortable. She turned so her back was to me as she slide down her thong, unclasped her bra, and lay face down on my bed.

The way her hips were angled, her tight ass was begging to be mounted, and I could see a hint of her bare slit. I started by dripping some warm oil onto her shoulders and spine, and rubbed it thoroughly into her back. I slowly worked her upper back, then her lower, the shoulders, and her sides, sliding my fingers around her waist as I ran my grip over her hips...stopping just at the top of her ass. I was playing it slow, and she was clearly enjoying it, letting out satisfied moans and re-positioning to spread her legs slightly. At some point I lost my shirt "so i won't get oil on it."

I oiled her legs, and worked my way from the calves up to her thighs, periodically flipping back to her back or shoulders for a spell as my hands kneaded their way closer to her slit. As I reached her inner thigh, she slid her legs apart to reveal an already-dripping pussy. I teased at its edges as I slide off my jeans. I got up on the bed, my knees outside of her legs, and began to work her ass cheeks in slow, deep rubs, every so often sliding up her back and spending some time there -- as I leaned forward to put pressure on her shoulders, she shifted her ass back into my erect cock, straining at my boxer briefs, and slowly rubbed herself against me.

I dismounted and, slowly, finally, slide one hand over her slit as she moaned hard. I worked her lips gently, rubbing lazy circles in the area of her clit, for several minutes.

"Want to turn over for me?" I asked. She was on her back in seconds, with her hips spread wide, and my hand back over her pussy, sliding 1, then 2 fingers inside as the other hand teased her nipples. After a while, I grabbed her hand and moved it to my bulge. She felt the length of it, once, twice, then reached inside my boxers and pulled it out. I grabbed the oil and lubricated my cock as she worked the length of it in her hands, cupping my balls as my other had continued to play with her pussy.

I gradually moved my cock closer to her lips, and she gingerly started to work the tip with her tongue. My hands continued to oil and work her hips and her tits as she picked up speed, eagerly taking my cock down her throat.

I knew if I let her keep at it, it would be over too soon, so I kicked my boxers the rest of the way off and got up on top of her. I continued to work her chest with my oiled hands as I rubbed the bottom of my shaft against her slit. She wrapped her legs around me and grinded back on me, our hips working together as the full length of her oily body pressed on mine, and my cock teased her pussy lips.

Finally, she reached down and grabbed my cock, working it slowly for a a minute, then pulling it inside her. I thrust deep, as her warm, tight pussy gripped my cock and her body tensed around mine. I started pumping away, but after 10 seconds her eyes popped wide open "condom!" she said. Oh well.

I obliged, grabbing a handful of condoms from the drawer, dumping them on my nightstand, and sliding one on before assuming the same position. The momentum was briefly broken, but we got it back.

Now, I'm normally the kind of guy who lasts *too* long. It's not something I'm proud of, its a side effect of too much time with porn and masturbation. But after just a minute or two I came harder than I had in weeks. It felt too amazing for me to be disappointed by the brevity. That's what 40 minutes of foreplay will do to you.

I climbed off and pulled the condom off, as we caught our breath. After a minute, she noticed that I was about 3/4 hard again.

"Can you go again?" she asked.

"Well, I think it's your turn to massage me"

*to be continued if there is sufficient interest*

[Picture is from google, but a fair approximation of reality] [re-posted to fix typos]

My second year of junior college, my friends were living in a rental duplex in the neighborhood most of us grew up in. It was like 3 bedrooms and we crammed 9 guys in there. It was worse when the other guys were in relationships too because I was never comfortable lying in bed, trying to sleep, while some hottie bit her lip trying not to moan as she got finger banged. Sometimes I’d walk in and just them making out would make me turn around, get in the car, and go for a long drive.

That was when I got in an accident.

I don’t remember any of it. The other driver had T-boned me after, according to him, I ran a red light. But I was the slow, patient driver that braked on yellow. And he had five wrecks. Insurance did most of the work and there was one witness who said the other guy was speeding and that alone made him responsible and I didn’t have to pay.

But I also didn’t have a car for a few months while the court case was being fought. My insurance didn’t get me a rental either. Thanks, Obama.

Only one other guy had a car in the house and we couldn’t all fit so…

My mom drove us.

She lived just four blocks away and she was a cool, stay-at-home mom. Most of the guys knew her since elementary school when she chaperoned field trips and when we got to hanging out in high school, she’d never bust us for sneaking a few drinks during poker games in the basement. That first she came down for frozen pizzas, we freeze, waiting for trouble, yelling, a lecture, a look, anything. But she never mentioned it. By senior year, we didn’t even pretend to hide our Solo cups. And the guys liked her, joking the way guys do about my hot mom, her fake tits (no proof of that!), and how she’d get dressed up for giving us a ride to school while we were in ripped jeans and faded T-shirts. She wanted it, they were sure, and sometimes they’d flirt, “Looking nice, Mrs. Stevens. New perfume?”

But there’s still something about being in college, on crutches, and having my mom drop me off at school that I couldn’t get over. The car rides were quiet.

She had a mini-van and the guys in back would whisper and giggle and I’d hear, “Would you rather…” then a bunch of text alerts and my phone would vibrate and I’d look and it’d be like two photos of porn stars covered in jizz that I’d avert from my mom’s view.

Everyone would respond to the group text and if I didn’t, I’d get ragged on so I’d pick.

On our drive home from class, this kid Blake sent one that made me turn around and go, “Really?!”
He’d sent, “For half a million dollars, would you rather get fucked in the ass or in the mouth? Both to completion. Like inside.”

Everyone had pretty much the same reaction, calling him gay, refusing to answer. He swore that was the game, two awful choices and you had to pick one.

“What’d this one say?” My mom asked. She was smart enough to know the game they were playing.

“Forget it,” I said. The drive was slow. A lot of crosswalks with students that never paused.

“I want to play. It seems like you’re all having fun.”

“They like it because it makes me uncomfortable. Assholes.”

“Let her play!” all the guys chimed in.

“So would you rather…” She paused to think, tapping on the steering wheel. “Asparagus or broccoli?”

The guys all laughed.

“That’s not really the game,” I said.

“I’m just warming up! And it’s practical. I thought I’d make you boys something with vitamins. Keep you fitting into clothes and looking good.”

“It’s got to be two tough choices,” I said.

“This wasn’t a game when I was a kid,” she told us.

“It’s got to be something awful or sexual or maybe two options so good that it’s tough to choose either,” Gabe said.

“It’s not really something I want to play with my mom.”

“Give me an example. What’d Blake ask?”

There was a silence at a light as everyone looked around at who’d man up and say it.

“Anal or oral,” Blake said.

The light turned green in the silence and the car revved up. “Both,” she said.

“Oh god,” I groaned.

The boys cheered like mad. “Yeah, Mrs. Stevens!”

“What? They’re both fun if you’re in the mood.”

“Kill me,” I muttered. She smacked my leg playfully.

“Blake asked that?” she said, looking in the rearview. Blake was in the middle of the bench seat in back between Tommy and Michael. “All right, then Blake, would you rather jerk off Tommy or Michael?”

The two guys in the pilot seats, Gabe and Louis, turned and laughed and high-fived as Blake just shook his head and Tommy and Michael looked out the window, inching away from Blake.

“I answered yours! Let’s hear yours? Or you going to say ‘Both’ too?” She was a devil of a woman.

“I don’t know… Michael looks like a virgin so he’d probably finish quickest.”

There was a chorus of “Ew!” “Gay.” “Gross, dude.” And Michael was adamant he’d made it with like twenty girls last week.

“Sure, Mike,” Mom said, giggling, teasing.

“All right, all right. Um…” He was desperate to get her back, but all of this was really just an attack on me. “Who would you rather?”

“Between Mike and Tommy?”

“Between all of us.”

She thought about it as she turned “I thought these were supposed to be tough choices.”

I wasn’t sure where we were. It was a cornfield, which were common around her, but usually just on one side. We were surrounded and the only buildings in front were grain silos and farm houses and there wasn’t any traffic coming our way or tailing us.

“Do you have a choice?” Mike asked.

She pulled over into a shaded spot. “The only tough part about this is having to choose at all.”

“Whoa, hold on,” I said.

Mom undid her seatbelt and as it went up, so did her sundress letting her bare, bouncing breasts hang out. I’ll never forget her tan marks.
She got in back before the guys knew what to do and she was on her knees between Gabe and Louis and one hand was fumbling with both zippers. “One of you better get up here and fill my mouth.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve done the math. There’s enough room for everyone in every hole and every hand.”

“Mrs. Stevens,” Michael said, unsure. But Blake undid his pants and stepped up and slid his uncircumcised cock in her mouth, putting his hands on her head. She went down deep on him then came off, licking his shaft to his tip.

She’d gotten Gabe’s and Louis’s pants undone and told them to take them off. “Who wants which hole? We got a pussy and an ass that needs filling and Blake can’t do it all himself.”

“I’ll take pussy,” Louis said, trembling.

“So Gabe gets the ass. Don’t worry about hurting me. John,” she said to me licking up Blake’s shaft again. “Open the glove compartment and get Gabe some lube. Always use lube boys. A lot of it.”

I couldn’t. I was frozen.

My mom, topless and in a thong and strappy heels, bent over my friend’s cock with four others out, ready to get stroked, sucked, and fucked. I couldn’t aid this. But I couldn’t leave either.

“John!” she snapped. But she was impatient for her fucking and got up to shuffle on her knees to the glove box for her lube. KY.

“Okay, boys,” she said. “Some rules first. No telling anyone about it, but you should all be taking videos and photos. You’re not in charge. I am. You stop when I say, not after, definitely not before. All those cocks are going to get drained. When you need to finish, on my face, chest, ass, stomach, hands, wherever, but not inside me. On me. And please, call me ‘Mom.’”

She adjusted the rearview so I could see, if I wanted. I peeked. Then watched. Getting aroused. Wanting it too. Wanting her to be anyone else’s mom or my stepmom or a stranger. But she wasn’t. She was my mom. And I watched my friends fuck fill both holes, her mouth. She jerked them slowly, then quickly, asking them if they wanted to cum, then stopping to edge a bigger cumshot out of them. She switched people at will. There was a lot of bumping around and at one point she was getting railed by just Blake in the ass and she was right by me and she kept looking up, smiling at me, licking her lips.

The guys would shoot cum on her face and it’d drip off as they kept fucking her. When they had finished once, she made them keep going. I think each finished three times and she tried milking more out. She was dripping. And smiling.

“Okay, let’s all get out so we can get dressed more easily.”

The boys all filed out of the van, listening to her. But she slid the door closed.

“It’s our turn, baby,” she said and kissed me with cummy lips. “I saw you watching. I know you wanted a turn. Well now I’m all yours.”

The windows were tinted and the guys couldn’t see what was happening but they tried to open the doors and peek in but since the car was off, they knew they weren’t stranded at least.

Meanwhile, Mom led me to the back where she sat on me, kissing me, letting their cum drip off her face, pressing her jizzed on breasts against my bare chest. It was gross…but I liked it.
She pulled my cock out and slowly gyrated her hips as she slid it inside her. She was in complete control.

And I loved it.

She went slow at first. It was my first time, whether she knew or not, and she treated me lovingly, kissing me as she sank onto me. Asking if I liked it like this. Asking me if I was ready for more? For faster? For harder?

“Yes,” I moaned.

“I love you,” she said.

And she didn’t stop until I finished inside her.

#

When she let them back in the car, Blake wanted more but she was cleaned up, clothed, and not in the mood. He tried to force it but I sat him down. It was a quiet ride home. Mom stole glances at me, little smiles. I had them too.

Then she pulled up to our house. Our other roommates were out so we all went inside and mom got started on cooking us broccoli and fried rice and a good home-cooked meal.
And for dessert, Blake had to watch the rest of us and her and he never got that special by himself moment with Mom like I did.

# # #

Let me know if you'd be interested in a whole blog dedicated to these erotic fantasies I have.

I didn't write this, I saw it in Playboy once, enjoy.

There once was a boy named Gimme-Some-Roy... He was nothin' like me or you,
'cause laying back and getting high was all he cared to do.

As a kid, he sat in the cellar...sniffing airplane glue. And then he smoked banana peels, when that was the thing to do. He tried aspirin in Coca-Cola, he breathed helium on the sly, and his life became an endless search to find the perfect high.
But grass just made him wanna lay back and eat chocolate-chip pizza all night,
and the great things he wrote when he was stoned looked like shit in the morning light.

Speed made him wanna rap all day, reds laid him too far back, Cocaine-Rose was sweet to his nose, but the price nearly broke his back.

He tried PCP, he tried THC, but they never quite did the trick. Poppers nearly blew his heart, mushrooms made him sick. Acid made him see the light, but he couldn't remember it long. Hash was a little too weak, and smack was a lot too strong. Quaaludes made him stumble, booze just made him cry, Then he heard of a cat named Baba Fats who knew of the perfect high.

Now, Baba Fats was a hermit cat...lived high up in Nepal, High on a craggy mountain top, up a sheer and icy wall. "Well, hell!" says Roy, "I'm a healthy boy, and I'll crawl or climb or fly,
Till I find that guru who'll give me the clue as to what's the perfect high."

So out and off goes Gimme-Some-Roy, to the land that knows no time, Up a trail no man could conquer, to a cliff no man could climb. For fourteen years he climbed that cliff...back down again he'd slide . . .
He'd sit and cry, then climb some more, pursuing the perfect high.

Grinding his teeth, coughing blood, aching and shaking and weak, Starving and sore, bleeding and tore, he reaches the mountain peak. And his eyes blink red like a snow-blind wolf, and he snarls the snarl of a rat,
As there in repose, and wearing no clothes, sits the god-like Baba Fats.

"What's happenin', Fats?" says Roy with joy, "I've come to state my biz . . .
I hear you're hip to the perfect trip... Please tell me what it is. "For you can see," says Roy to he, "I'm about to die, So for my last ride, tell me, how can I achieve the perfect high?"

"Well, dog my cats!" says Baba Fats. "Another burned out soul, Who's lookin' for an alchemist to turn his trip to gold. It isn't in a dealer's stash, or on a druggist's shelf... Son, if you would find the perfect high, find it in yourself."

"Why, you jive mother-fucker!" says Roy, "I climbed through rain and sleet,
I froze three fingers off my hands, and four toes off my feet! I braved the lair of the polar bear, I've tasted the maggot's kiss. Now, you tell me the high is in myself? What kinda shit is this?

My ears, before they froze off," says Roy, "had heard all kindsa crap; But I didn't climb for fourteen years to hear your sophomore rap. And I didn't climb up here to hear that the high is on the natch, So you tell me where the real stuff is, or I'll kill your guru ass!"

"Okay...okay," says Baba Fats, "You're forcin' it outta me... There is a land beyond the sun that's known as Zabolee. A wretched land of stone and sand, where snakes and buzzards scream, And in this devil's garden blooms the mystic Tzutzu tree.

Now, once every ten years it blooms one flower, as white as the Key West sky,
And he who eats of the Tzutzu flower shall know the perfect high. For the rush comes on like a tidal wave...hits like the blazin' sun. And the high? It lasts forever, and the down don't never come.

But, Zabolee Land is ruled by a giant, who stands twelve cubits high, And with eyes of red in his hundred heads, he awaits the passer-by. And you must slay the red-eyed giant, and swim the river of slime, Where the mucous beasts await to feast on those who journey by. And if you slay the giant and beasts, and swim the slimy sea, There's a blood-drinking witch who sharpens her teeth as she guards the Tzutzu tree."

"Well, to hell with your witches and giants," says Roy, "To hell with the beasts of the sea--
Why, as long as the Tzutzu flower still blooms, hope still blooms for me."

And with tears of joy in his sun-blind eyes, he slips the guru a five, And crawls back down the mountainside, pursuing the perfect high.

"Well, that is that," says Baba Fats, sitting back down on his stone, Facing another thousand years of talking to God, alone. "Yes, Lord, it's always the same...old men or bright-eyed youth... It's always easier to sell 'em some shit than it is to tell them the truth."

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away I was injured when a claymore mine exploded, more or less turning my legs into dogfood. After a lot of work courtesy of the VA, I'm able and well enough to get around with the aid of a few braces and crutches, enough to be able to run a business and father two kids, but I haven't been able to go out on my farm and just wander. I have a lightweight chair that I can use to go to the barn and ramble some, but not to the extent that I wanted to.

Well, I bought myself something this weekend. It has three speeds, runs with a 22:1 gear ratio, and is powered by four extended charge, high output batteries.
I'm still learning to use the thing, but I have been able to freak out a few squirrels, and I'm sure I'm the object of conversation amongst the local deer population. All I need now is a couple of 50 cal machine guns mounted (LOL), and I should be ready to go, though I still can't outrun fuckin' ATVs. Anybody kow where I can get a hemi?

breeze

Are there any sites that have short mpegs?
I don't have high speed and need less than 5 or 10 mb

This past Friday night, with my wife back East visiting relatives, I invited over a new friend for a sleepover. We'd met three months ago on a local dating site and had fucked before -- always at her place -- with two four-hour sessions to our credit. She's exactly half my age (35 to 70) and a bit on the chubby side, but her height (5-11) helps make up for the 160-plus pounds she carries, and twice-a-week Pilates keeps her firm. She's a natural blonde with 36D breasts, plus nipples that always seem to be fully erect.

I picked her up at her townhouse, and we headed to a Middle Eastern restaurant on my side of town for dinner. As usual, our conversation was a mixture of contemporary thought (she's an attorney; I'm a tech writer), politics (we're both quite liberal), and sexual teasing. With our meal completed, we hopped back into my car for the 10-minute drive back to my condo. Since the building only has a single elevator and everyone there knows me (I'm on the HOA board), I was relieved that we didn't see a single resident as we traveled between the underground garage and my front door.

I took a quick shower while she made herself comfortable in my bedroom. Knowing her proclivity for squirting, I'd taken the time earlier that day to strip my bed down to its fitted sheet, under which I'd laid several bath towels. It proved to be a worthwhile exercise in caution.

As I emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of red silk boxers, I saw her playing with my cat while she had on only a bra and panties. "Orange isn't exactly your color," I said half-playfully. "Well, you'll just have to take them off, then," was her reply. Since I'm only an inch taller than her, kissing is a very delightful and simple process, and we lip-locked probably a hundred times over the ensuing 14-plus hours. She beat me to the punch and unhooked her bra, to which I voiced a mild objection. "I'm very mechanically minded," I said. "Besides, I was unhooking bras long before you were born." She laughed and shrugged her shoulders, which caused her bra to fall to the floor. "Oops," she squealed." "I guess you'll have to pick that up, Mister Mechanically Minded."

We made out for a bit while standing up, her tugging on my erect, silk-covered cock, while I cupped her breasts and sucked insistently on each of her nipples. She reached down to rearrange her panties and let me know they were of the crotchless variety. I soon ran my fingers up and down her rapidly moistening slit before tugging them off entirely. She climbed onto the bed, and I kicked off my shorts before joining her. Hands went immediately to each partner's genitals, and we French-kissed furiously while tugging and stroking.

After a few minutes of that, I flipped her onto her back. She knew what was next and opened her legs invitingly. I dove down between her pale, creamy thighs and began to slurp long, extended licks from the base of her pussy to her little pearl-sized clit. "I brought my trimmer, if that's too hairy for you," she offered. Her pubic area boasted a neat triangle of dark-blonde stubble, but it was hardly bush-like. "Hey," I countered. "I grew up in the '60s, when no one ever heard of a shaved crotch." Then I really went to work on her.

I've been fortunate to have had sex with a few multi-orgasmic women in my time, but she is clearly the queen of that realm. In our previous two encounters, I'm guessing she came dozens of times in a four-hour span. It's hard to keep track, though, because she crests from one peak to another in such a seamless way that's it's closer to one giant, rolling orgasm. I alternated between one finger inside and thrusting, two fingers inside and mashing up against her g-spot, and three fingers inside and twisting. As for attending to her clit, I alternately flicked it with my tongue, sucked it hard between my lips, nibbled on it gently with my teeth, brushed it back and forth with the fingers of my other hand, and pressed it hard against her pubic bone with my thumb.

After a good 20-30 minutes of pussy attention -- and a request by her for me to take a break -- I rolled onto my back and she proceeded to give me a very thorough blow job. I'm not terribly large (5.75 inches long and circumcised), so it's not difficult for her to take me entirely into her mouth. She calls that her "disappearing dick trick," and she accompanies the oral action with some digital ball-sack manipulation. Then she decided it was time to fuck, so she climbed on top of me and rode me to three pussy-grinding orgasms. Given my lack of length, her enthusiastic back-and-forth rocking caused me to fall out a couple of times. I was about to apologize (for the second time) about being a bit short when she railed against that.

"Don't you dare say 'sorry' again," she said. "You're nice and thick, and I don't know a single woman who would prefer a long skinny dick to a wide one like yours that fills her up." Secretly I doubted her statement, but I was enjoying the situation way too much to object. After her third orgasm, and sensing I wasn't quite ready to come, she climbed off and went down on my cock again, expressing her love for tasting her pussy juice on my dick. After a bit of that, I tugged on her hair and she slid up the bed so we could lie side by side. She used her left hand to firmly stroke my erection while I reached down with my left hand and played with her clit.

One of the things we enjoy during our sessions is telling each other naughty stories about previous encounters with others. Her initial "bedtime story" that night involved relating a visit she'd made to a friend of hers who was in Dallas on business. She flew down there at his invitation for a one-nighter, but realized upon showing up at his hotel that she'd forgotten to bring any condoms. [I've been vasectomized, and we're both very careful to "play safe" with others -- not that I've had any action other than with her for quite a while -- so she and I bareback it with each other, but she employs condoms with all other partners.] It was a Sunday night, and the local CVS had closed early due to a worker shortage. "So, we stuck to oral for a while," she related to me. "And then he fucked my ass, which seemed like the best option at the time." It was that last bit that put me over the top, and cum shot out of my dick and cascaded down across her hand like a lava flow. She was quite fastidious in cleaning it up with her tongue, sucking on her fingers in dramatic fashion as the final drops disappeared into her beautiful mouth.

I wasn't anywhere near finished with her, however, and she spent the next half hour or so submitting to my various efforts. It usually takes her a while to work her way up to a squirting orgasm, but I was determined to bring her to that level before we called it a night. As it turned out, it only took about three minutes of highly focused finger-fucking for her to spurt forth, and she managed two additional squirts over the ensuing 10 minutes, the last of which she induced herself with two of her fingers pile-driving into her pussy while I rubbed her clit with such speed that my hand was nearly a blur.

At that point we figured we'd reached a good stopping point. It was after 11 pm, and we were both fairly worn out. While she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and pee, I grabbed the rest of the bed covers (a top sheet plus a down comforter) and got the bed ready for the night. We both decided to sleep in the nude -- "In case one of us gets horny in the dark," she said with a wink -- and snuggled for a bit before rolling onto our respective sides in preparation for sleep. My bed is only a double, so it's pretty narrow for two people. We drifted off to sleep naked-butt-to-naked-butt.

For some reason, I woke up just before two a.m. While asleep we'd ended up facing each other, and as I awoke I decided to "test the waters" and see if she was game for a late-night fuck. As soon as I slid my hand between her tucked-together thighs, she leaned into me and said, "It's about time you woke up." "What do you mean?" I asked somewhat stupidly. "Well," she went on, "I've been playing with my clit for the past 10 minutes and waiting for you to notice that the mattress was rocking." I was hard almost instantly, which for a guy my age, is nothing short of miraculous. It only took me a moment, however, to seize the situation. In a flash (which, for a 70-year-old guy, is probably measurable in minutes), I threw off the covers and got on top of her. She pushed me away just long enough to draw her legs up toward her chest, and then she guided my cock into her pussy. It didn't take me long to pound away, although I was only able to keep up the thrusting for a couple of minutes before my arms got tired of holding the rest of my body up above hers. Sensing my dilemma, and clearly not willing to have me stop, she pulled me down so I was lying fully on top of her, and after another few minutes of enthusiastic fucking, I came hard inside her pussy.

At that point I was breathing pretty hard, but I had the presence of mind to roll off her (I weigh around 230 pounds) and catch my breath while lying on my own side of the bed. She reached up with one hand and pressed her fingertips against my neck, physically taking note of my pulse rate. "I guess you'll live through the night," she said in a humorous tone. "Besides, my CPR training has lapsed." "Ha-ha," was about all I could manage in reply.

We fell back asleep but woke up almost simultaneously around eight o'clock. A quick trip to the bathroom for each of us, and we were back at it. Our morning session only lasted about 90 minutes, but she got in a good dozen orgasms and I made sure she got a good taste of her cum-filled pussy as I dipped my fingers into her snatch and coated them with a mixture of our respective juices before shoving them into her mouth. After a short rest, we climbed into the shower together and did a pretty good job of cleaning each other off. She admitted to being a bit sore from all the attention her pussy had received, so I avoided doing anything sexual to her as the water cascaded down around us, but she gave me a very nice soap-covered hand job as a reward of sorts.

After getting dressed and making sure she'd packed up all her stuff, we went to a nearby deli for brunch, and then I dropped her off at home. I'm not sure when we'll meet next -- we each have busy work schedules, and she has a couple of business trips set for the next month -- but I know the next time we're together it'll be more of the same. I'm already looking forward to it!

Camille came to work with me one day, a few months after we’d met. It was ladder work, which is why she wanted to come. I work alone mostly. And she likes being up on the ladder. I built a business taking care of people’s homes. When people ask me what I do for work, that’s what I tell them, I take care of people’s homes, but the real answer is so much more. On this day with Cam we’d be scraping window trim. But the next day is car transportation to and from the airport. And the day after is finding and fixing a small leak, but most likely replacing the dishwasher, and then repairing the flooring from the damage. Oh, and then I have to pick up clothes from a customer and allocate them elsewhere, but not before rebuilding a screen door and making and installing shelves for a local coffee shop. But on this day we’ll be on ladders scraping window trim. Which is why Cam wanted to come.

Cam stepped out of the bedroom that morning into the hall as I was exiting the bathroom. “How does this look?” She asked me. Referring to the outfit she chose to wear to work that day, she showcased it with an impromptu hallway-width catwalk turn. Unbelievable, I told her. “It’s not too long?” She asked. Referring to her skirt. Seems just right to me. Oh, good! She replied excitedly with a short hop and tail wiggle as she proceeded back into the bedroom to finish ablutions.

Camille is a short girl at five foot even, and very petite. She’s young and pretty with striking blue eyes and shoulder length dirty-blonde hair. But what attracted me to her most was and still is her playfulness. Cam doesn’t tend to take things too seriously, which I’m working on myself. Where I would maybe think far too long about something that simply doesn’t matter, Cam just goes for it and calls me a silly goose. And she’s got this ability to surprise me every time. Less so now as we’ve been together for sometime. But still from time to time she gets me. Like every day really. And to my weaning dismay, tending toward total approval to the point of following suit, ninety percent of the time her playfulness is sexual in nature, or rooted in some sort of sexual connotation. Sexual, kinky, naughty, taboo, and sometimes just downright filthy, she’s one hundred percent comfortable with her body, expressing herself sexually, speaking her mind, and she doesn’t wince easily. She’s a free flowing form of one hundred percent woman. She’s nice, she’s thoughtful, caring, loving, and an overtly naughty sex crazed being. Who wouldn’t love that.

For example: Now this is an extreme case, but it gives insight into who she is. Now let it be known, neither of us have a desire to play in this way, but Cam always jokes around in an attempt to push the boundaries, my buttons, and get me to loosen up more and more. SO we’re walking down the road one day and (Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. Okay here goes.) So we’re walking down the road and I noticed some dried dog poop. I grabbed her and said, “Look out for the poop. Don’t step in it.” So she says to me, and I quote, “Dare me to lick it?” I’m like, Good Lord girl, no! “What’s the big deal? It’s just poop.” She told me. Question asked, question answered. - Now I need to tell you before I lose you here, this story is not about poop. I promise you. This is just an indicator into who she is. So Cam proceeds to get on her hands and knees, on the side of a fairly well trafficked road, and egg me on. And to boot, and I guess this is pertinent information, Cam doesn’t exactly believe in wearing underwear. I mean, she will if no other clothing is covering it. At which point she calls it outerwear. But if she’s wearing even the shortest of dresses or skirts, any other accompanying garments are out of the question. So there she is, this young, pretty, sexy thing, bent over on the side of a public road, her ass clearly visible to anyone who happens to pass by, daring me to dare her to lick dog poop. And if I say something such as referring to the fact that someone might see her. Her only reply ever is always in the vein of, let them see, somebody's gotta make the world a better place. It’s not that she wants people to see, or even goes out of her way to ensure that they do. But Cam is just being Cam, and what happens, happens. I aspire to her nature of play and carefreeness, especially when it comes to sex, or simply expressing myself. I’m getting there, and I’m becoming less reserved about it. That’s why I’m writing this. I told her I would.

Oh, good lord, she just came through the room, or pranced through is more like it. Panties on her head, and a bra around her crotch area. “Is this how you wear them, David?” She asked me. Um, no, but getting closer!

So we’re off to work. Now this is a real job with real work that needs to get done. Cam is a hard fucking worker too. Bright, intelligent, intuitive when it comes to getting shit done. What needs doing, where, when, how; all the things. This isn’t just play time. Or I should say, this isn’t solely play time. But as Cam says, most time is an opportunity for play time.

So we get to this house and Cam and I begin setting up for our day. Occasionally people are shuffling by. It’s a friendly town. We wave, they wave, we say hi, and so on. We get the ladders set up, the music going, and all we need is a tarp and some scrapers and we’re off. This is a mountain ski resort town in Colorado, so It’s a beautiful day. And increasingly so, the people in these towns, whether they be tourists or locals, dress more like they are on a beach in Southern California rather than at nine thousand feet. But the weather is conducive, so the attire is, shall we say, nice to look at because there’s less and less of it. Or as Cam points out to me, “she’s hot.” So despite what Cam is wearing, it really draws little to no attention specifically to her. Despite the fact that, “she’s hot too.” If you take notice, you take notice, but a short skirt is par for the course here. So up the ladder she goes.

No panties on, the view from below was, how shall I say this, enjoyable to say the least. And improved my typical workday by severfold. I’m being modest. It was fucking incredible. I’m a grateful guy in general, but this was like, “okay, I’m not sure how I conjured this into my life, but I’ll take it all day long!” She liked it, she knew it, she wanted it, but most of all, she enjoyed that I liked it. And liked it, I did. So much so in fact that I could hardly keep my hand off myself. In fact, the only time I did remove my hand was to take pictures and videos that we looked at together later. I’ll share one with you here.

Now I haven’t told you a story so far, rather, just something that happened. Setting up the scene so to speak. But what would a scene be without a story? I’ve told you about me. I’ve told you about my kinky little girlfriend. But what I haven’t told you might make your head explode. In the best way, of course. At least it made mine. But I’m vanilla, or so I think. I don’t know. You be the judge. But hang tight, it’s about to get good.

So we’d brought two ladders and set both of them up, but Cam insisted I be the ground person. Or that one of us only be on one ladder at a time. Because what I haven’t told you yet is that now it was my turn, and Cam made me wear very revealing shorts to work too. One of the ways we connected when we’d first met was our mutual dislike for wearing underwear. For me, when I was a teenager I stopped wearing briefs because I was chubby, and they were just uncomfortable. I tried boxers but still to this day I don’t know how people wear those things. They’re just so uncomfortable. So since I was fifteen years old - I’m forty-six now - I haven’t worn a pair of underwear one day. And Cam loved that. Easy access to the flopping penis, she tells me, is a wonderful thing for a girl like me.

So although rather uneventful in my estimation, Cam insisted that up the ladder you go, sir. Yes ma’am. So there I was, a dangling participle revealed for her viewing. And viewed, she did, with camera and all. That iPhone has an amazing zoom, she told me. Talk about uncomfortable. Cam would yell things below as people would pass by. “Throw down the hammer, David?!” Oh good lord. “”Hey, yur lookin’ good up there!” And, “David, do you need me to hold anything for you?” And, “Hey David, I think your balls are hanging out!” Some of her comments weren’t designed for cleverness, rather to provoke the passersby and embarrass me. It’s astounding what people don’t notice. I’m on a ladder with my giant old balls hanging from my tiny red shorts one block off of Main St. and no one notices even when she points them out. The irony being you know that if I were doing that and Cam wasn’t there…

I would throw comments up to her too in an attempt to out embarrass her. As if that were possible. I wasn’t quite as good at it though, and all I’d accomplish was to make her laugh. Which was awesome, but not what I was going for. “Hey lady, the moon is out!” Or, “I see you missed a spot!” I don’t even know what that one means. All Cam had to do was reference caulk all day. For me it was a bit more challenging. I either went from not making any sense at all to just embarrassing myself with all I was yelling up to her. “I see your butt!” And queue the disgusted look from the speed walker passing by. “Cam, I’m really not good at this, love!” She was literally crying from laughter at my stupid comments. And luckily she saved me by yelling out to the speed walker. Something to the effect of, “It’s okay, he’s a little retarded, but he’s got a nice penis!” Forgoing the caulk reference completely. The lady’s look turned from one of disdain to a crooked smirk very quickly. But then I got a good one in. “Hey Cam, I see a crack, do you want me to fill it in with my big white caulk?” Okay, when I say a good one, I mean a less retarded one. I know, we’re not supposed to use that word. But I don’t think mentally handicapped people meant, abolish the word completely. They themselves just don’t want to be called retarded. But me? I’ll take a little degradation. It’s fun for sex! And sex we did!

Cam’s skirt, per the way she liked it, would be pulled up high enough to where if you looked closely enough you could see her vagina. I know! Huh, funny. Cam and I are having a back and forth right now. When I type sometimes I speak it out loud. She loves that I’m writing this, but she’s correcting my sexual vernacular as I go. She wants me to call it a see-you-next-tuesday. No, she says. Arg! A cunt! It’s a cunt. Some people have vagina’s. Hers growls! Cam just growled at me. Lol. Anyway! The way she likes to wear her clothes is if someone’s going to notice, then let them. It’s such an interesting thing to witness though. Most people actually don’t. And the ones who do pretend they don’t. She’s not trying to cause anyone alarm or discomfort, and like I said, her attire actually blends in, but she is who she is and she enjoys pushing boundaries in herself. That’s what I love about her. Plus it doesn’t hurt that she’s stunning to look at for me. A very unassuming girl. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not as though she flaunts her vagi…cunt, but if that skirt flops just the right way as a set of eyes just happens upon a glance down there, you’re gonna pussy. She’s now telling me to call it her Baby-Boo. Oh, sorry. My Baby-Boo. Baby-Boo Cunt Muffin Sandwich. I don’t really know what that means but it all checks out to me! Now she’s trying to get in here to type. H afgd sh 78 39n87gdfs

Dear reedr SDg gbhbbkjcvkjbbbd

Good lord. She wants me to tell you what her cunt muffin looks like. Okay, I’m just gonna involve you on all the back and forth that’s going on here. Yes, I will tell them it’s young. Cam is twenty-three years old. We met a year ago. She moved in six months later. She does the dishes naked. She goes to the bathroom with the door open. She pees in the shower. She licks me everywhere. She calls her tits bumps because she says she doesn’t have any. They’re not boobs, they’re bumps. I personally love them. She’s now blushing. Wow, that’s a new one. And, yes, dear, her vagina is that of a seventeen year old hairless Mexican Chihuahua. I think those are two breeds mixed into one. She’s just being silly now. It looks like one of those pumped pussy’s. We watch a lot of porn together. Pumped pussy is actually quite hot. Hers looks like a hotdog bun. She’s telling me to tell you this. I personally think it’s more the length of a hotdog bun, and looks like a shaven pumped pussy. Cunt-Muffin, sorry. Anyway, It’s long and bald and quite puffy. And it jiggles when you smack it. But I’m not kidding, it’s really long. Like all the way from normal clit positioning to her asshole. She’s giggling now. Which brings me back to my point. If Cam bends over in public, game over. There it is. She’s telling me to call it her pussy.

Wait, so your vagina is your cunt and your asshole is your pussy?
Correct.
So what’s your mouth then?
You know what my mouth is!
Oh good lord. Okay, we won’t get into that. She wants me to tell you.
Tell them how you pee-pee in me.
Dear Reader, actually, you know what, this brings me right back to the story.
Yay, she says.
Okay, so.

We’re on the ladder. No, she’s on the ladder. She’s got me flustered now. Cam is on the ladder and she says she’s got to pee. Now I never know what to expect from this girl, but I know, it’s typically never what I thought. Because when I expect a torrent of piss to come flooding down from above, no. Instead what she does is pee into her empty coffee mug on the window ledge and hand it to me. Naturally I say, what now? Whatever you like, dear. What do I like, I wonder. I’m sure she’s wanting me to drink it. And honestly, it didn’t bother me all that much. But what I really wanted to do was shock her. Show her that all is not lost and I am learning to misbehave. So I dipped my cock head in and filled it to the brim. Took a sip and climbed it back to her. Okay, that was hot, she told me. But Cam being Cam, she finished it in several gulps, put the mug down and continued scraping. “You just drank piss,” I told her! To which she responded, It’s hot up here, and kept scraping. That was our first experience drinking from each other, it came out of nowhere, and it got me like nothing ever has before. I was instantly hooked. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen a woman do. It spoke to me sexually in a way nothing ever had before. It was almost addictive to the point of definitely wanting to explore it more rather than less. And we explored. We are exploring now as I type this. Now it seems all we do is drink each other's piss. Which I gotta tell you, it’s the last thing I thought I’d ever do, (to drink and be drunk from) but the thing I’m enjoying the most. It’s intoxicating in a way I cannot quite sum up in words. Cam says, try it! You’ll like it or you won’t. Cam says make sure you drink lots of water. I agree. Drink lots of water if you’re going to piss in your girlfriend’s mouth, and vice-versa. But we drink so much pee that it’s hardly even sexual anymore. Cam says, “turns me on!” I agree, it turns me on too. But it’s more utilitarian at this point. We spend a ton of time together. That’s not to say we don’t spend time apart, but we’ve learned to love and more so, accept each other as is, so it’s fun. We can just be who we are with each other. And who we are has turned out to be a pee drinking couple, among other things. And we drink a lot of pee. We literally just drink from each other all the time. I don’t use the toilet anymore. And neither does she. We either pee in each other, on each other, in glasses or on ourselves. To which Cam just made slurping noises with her tongue out. Oh Good Lord. Okay I’m getting turned on now.

We share a lot. We’re both artists, we enjoy similar things such as peeing in the shower. I’m joking, not joking. But I think my point is that we enjoy being apart just as much as we enjoy being together. Because we enjoy what we do separately too. So when we come together, it’s from full and enjoyable lives that we love. But pee, right. It’s utilitarian at this point, but no less hot. We just pee anywhere all the time. Sometimes even without provocation or foresite. We’ll just be walking along the road and there’s piss running down Cam’s leg. Or I will pee my shorts while sitting across from her drinking our morning coffee in the garden. But most often we’re drinking it. I’ve drank so much of this girl’s pee I hardly drink anything more. And even when I’m drinking other things, Cam pees in them for me, and I in hers. But I think our favorite is directly in our mouths. And there’s no asking anymore. I got over that months ago. I just pee. No asking, no wishy-washy, just simply pee.

Despite popular belief, when you drink water, pee tastes like water. We’re both healthy, active, relatively fit people. So nothing weird there, like no weird taste or disease or anything like that. It’s just pee! And I like pee. Cam likes it too. Even once, okay now bare with me. We pee’d each other’s clothes. As in, soaked them through. Now even though you might think this is getting weird, or, weird sailed long ago, it’s our thing and we enjoy it. But clothes soaked through, they then hung out to dry until we were ready to wear them out. I think you know where I’m going with this. Yes we wore pissed dry clothes in public. Cam just chuckled to herself. Yes, honey, I know. Cam likes the smell, but I don’t really think it does. Or if it does I guess I like it too. It’s just kind of nice in this crazy world to have a secret in plain site like that. We have friends, jobs, dreams, aspirations, family, all of it. But at the end of the day we enjoy the piss. Cam calls it piss more than me. I say pee. Dick wine. Bladder nectar. She’s giving me these names now. Urethra juice. She’s asking me to tell you what I use her mouth as. I’d argue but…it’s my urinal. Her mouth is my urinal. My colastami sack. My toilet bowl. Okay I’m done now.

So Cam is telling me to tell you other things but I think I’ll save that for another story. I have to admit, this was fun, and cathartic. She’s my catheter, she says. Okay, we’re gonna go now. Cam says please try drinking pee and that it’s good for you to try new things. She’s waving, bye. Okay, until next time. Pee you later! Bye!!! Bye!

I confess.... 9-11 was an inside job...

Crazy terrorists got INSIDE an airplane, they forced their way INSIDE the cockpit, and drove it INSIDE a building at high speed while in flight...

There are certain people who think people INSIDE the US government were INSIDE on the planning... such people should be INSIDE an asylum.

The auditorium was full of men, all of them intrigued to see what the weekend event would involve and to find out why it had started so early in the day. More sat at home, watching the live stream.When the lights went up on the stage, they saw what appeared to be 10 men. Wrists bound above their heads, they weren’t going anywhere. Blackout hoods covered their heads, all were wearing headphones. Mutters of confusion and disappointment spread around the room.The Master stepped forward and addressed the audience:“Remember that not all is not what it seems, you’re in for a nice surprise. But first, some important information. We’ll inspect the specimens in a moment. Each of them think they’re alone with me. What comes next will be the first of many surprises for them.”And so he started to undress them. Shredded flannel shirts opened to reveal binders, binders cut open to display tits of different shapes and sizes. A couple of them had scarred chests where they’d had their tits chopped off. Some of them had shaved cunts, others were hairy. But there was no denying they were all female.Once he’d stripped them all, the master began his appraisal of each girl. Examining her tits, if she had any, telling the audience how they felt pointing out the sluts whose nipples were hard already. He spread their cunts and assholes and his camera allowed them to be shown on the big screen. One had a tampon in her pussy - he made note of that for later. Two had unbroken hymens, still virgins. One had a bruised and stretched out asshole, clearly no stranger to getting cocked. “We’ve found our urinal for the weekend, you’ll be able to fill her up later.”The master encouraged the audience to use their handsets to vote. Most fuckable, best tits, which bitches they’d like to see paired up and all the rest.“This session is nearly over gents, but I think it’s time for us to meet each of our girls face to face.”One by one he removed the headphones and hoods from each bitch. Some screamed, some cried, most struggled. A couple of the whores had beards - but not for long. The screens above the audience’s heads showed the girls what the audience saw - a row of 10 exposed sluts whose weekend was only just getting started. The lights went off and the audience filed out, leaving the Master and his assistants to prepare the girls.The afternoon show started promptly. When the lights came up, the girls were much more placid. They’d been given a little something to help them…relax and to encourage them to be a lot more compliant. It had clearly worked.All ten had been shaved, waxed and plucked. Any facial hair was fine. Hairless bodies on display for the entertainment of the men in the audience. Some of the whores were naked, some in crotchless panties and open bras to allow a clear view of their assets. Many were wearing open mouth gags to make sure they couldn’t bite.The virgins had been dressed in matching white underwear and were bound to a bed in the centre of the stage. The bitches who’d had their tits chopped off were wearing fake plastic tits. Each slut was bound with rope or in metal restraints in poses that best showed off their cunts and tits. The urinal had already been set up at the front of the stage - tunnel plugs in her cunt and asshole, an open mouth gag. “She’s here for your use whenever you need to piss, don’t be shy” the Master said.Before voting on the live action they wanted to see, the men in the audience were invited row by row to inspect the girls. Groping, fingering, stroking, rubbing. When thoroughly inspecting one of the girls, one lucky man found a moon cup. After she drank down its contents, the girl was instructed to go sit on the face of one of the virgins. The Master pulled the tampon from the other period bitch and forced her to suck on it. She then took her seat on the other virgin’s face.This set the audience’s imaginations off and soon suggestions for the show were flooding in. Bidding was opened for virgin 1 and virgin 2.The two period whores were instructed to trib and scissor each other, rubbing their bloody cunts against each other. When the Master was satisfied, he plugged their cunts with a double dildo and stuffed another in their asses for good measure. Tied together, they were connected by both their pussies and assholes, no escape from each other or the plastic toys stretching their bloody cunts and tight shitpipes.The two virgins were first instructed to lick each other’s face clean, before making sure their pussies were clean. The two girls sucked on each other’s testosterone swollen clits and lapped at their untouched pussies. Virgin 2 was increasingly wet, virgin 1 less so. What happened next would be easier for one than the other.The winning bidders were a father and son, a unique bonding experience. They both pushed inside at the same time, adding to the spectacle. On the big screen, a shot of virgin 1’s face showed her eyes widen before tears started rolling down her face. Eventually a look of acceptance passed across her face and she seemed to submit to her current owner’s dick. To everyone’s surprise, she was the first of the virgins to reach orgasm, causing her owner to unload deep inside her fertile pussy. Virgin 2 promptly found herself being made to eat the creampie from her companion, her ass up and pussy continually pounded. She too took a load deep inside, the first of her life but not her last that weekend.For the next 3 hours all of the whores on stage were free to use and repositioned on request. Two or three of the sluts were squirters. Many were whimpering like bitches by the time the men had cum in and on them. Some were begging for more and they got it. One girl took two cocks in her ass and two in her cunt, grinding and squirming like the cockwhore she’d always secretly been.After the afternoon session, the men went to their rooms or to the bar and the females were taken to be cleaned up and made presentable for the evening’s entertainment.That evening, ten lucky men (or groups of men) had won the bidding to be entertained in their rooms. Each girls was there to use how they wanted, the only condition being that their activities were filmed for the livestream audience and for future use.Similar happened next morning.That afternoon the audience once again gathered in the auditorium, wondering what they could possibly see that they hadn’t seen already that weekend.When the lights came up, most sluts were held in one point bondage. The dildos were deep in their cunts and there was no escape from them. The remaining sluts were also impaled on an anal dildo. Even if they’d taken off their slutty high heels, it would only have thrust the toy deeper inside them. There was no escape. Next to each engorged clit was a vibrator, and each of the bitches wore a VR headset.Above each girl’s head was a video screen, showing what she was seeing in the headset. Footage from the entire weekend, showing each whore’s descent from frigid bitch into a nasty freeuse cumslut. Hours of footage that they couldn’t escape from, as the vibrators were turned on and the fuck machines started to pound their sore holes. The audience voted to increase the speed, decrease the speed, thrust deeper. At times they stopped the toys, lulling one of the females into a false sense of relief before they started them again - harder and faster than ever.The Master and his assistants were sure to film each and every orgasm that their prize whores had when they were watching their own descent into the life of a fucktoy. It would of course be added to the footage already taken, eventually to be screened on billboards in each slut’s home city. It didn’t matter any more. They had new lives now.

If you were in the audience, what would you have wanted to see these whores do?

Tonight I drugged myself and then proceeded to take advantage and forcibly rape myself. I made myself take off all my clothes and then totally against my will I got myself aroused. I talked all kinds of shit to myself while i stroked my dick forcefully. When I would start to feel like cumming I would make myself stop. I put on some hard core drug porn and forced more drugs into my own system. I was so high that every inch of my skin was tingling and my body was rushing hard. Finally while i was watching a girl squirming and moaning while she shot up meth and got her pussy licked...I couldnt take it anymore. I didnt care what I had to say about it....I was gonna blow my cum all over. I started stroking full speed and spread my legs apart further and thrust my hips back and forth in the air. Every muscle in my body was stretching as ropes of cum flung wildly from the tip of my rock hard dick. It was flying everywhere and I just kept stroking. My whole body vibrated and orgasmed for what felt like a long time. I could feel the meth coarsing through my entire body along with the orgasm rush. I shook and twitched there in the middle of the floor with cum all over my chest and legs and the floor and even the wall. Better living through chemistry.