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Hannah stood in the mirror and examined her outfit. Black jeans hugged her curvy lower body, contrasting well against her pale skin. Her black and yellow work shirt was buttoned up all the way, albeit straining against her chest, and her long black hair was tied up into a bun.

“There’s no way the manager can reprimand me for this.” She mumbled, turning and looking at her wide ass, stuffed into her jeans.

“I’m not trying to be provocative, I’m just thick. I dress the same as any girl half my size.”

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and went to double-check the roster. Her grinned as she saw who she was rostered on with. Her and Simon would be working together for the first time in weeks.

“Must have been a last minute shift change.” She mumbled to herself as she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. “I’ll catch him this time.”

It was hard to explain when she’d first clued onto it, but as the months and shifts had gone by, she’d become more and more convinced. At first she thought she’d just been daydreaming, projecting her size-queen fetishes of giant cocks onto every attractive guy she knew.

But this was different. She’d seen Simon grow, seen the outline of his member pressing against his pants. She’d noticed how he’d disappear to the bathroom and come back five minutes later, his serpent disappeared. And now, after months of careful attention, she was sure she’d figured him out.

Hannah hopped off the bus and walked down the busy street towards the cafe where she worked. Afternoon shift was her favorite; you had to come in and help with the busy lunchtime rush, but time went quickly then. Once the rush was over, you had a few hours of quiet before you closed up and headed home.

She slipped in the back entrance and put her bag in her locker, waving hello to the chefs and dish-boy before heading through the kitchen and out to the front. She grabbed an apron from the hook and tied it around her waist, and made her way to the counter.

Simon was there, working the coffee machine. Just over six feet tall with a slender, yet muscular build and a head of messy brown hair, he was exactly Hannah’s type. She loved size of any kind, and the fact that she had to look up at him at her 5’4 was a real turn on.

“Morning Hannah!” He called out, looking over his shoulder at the approaching footsteps. “Good timing, we’re going to be pretty flat out here in a minute. Can you jump on the register and be ready to take orders?”

Hannah nodded, walking over to the register and looking out over the bustling cafe.

“Just before the rush, huh? Give it 10 minutes and this cafe is going to be really engorged.” She said, putting extra emphasis on the last word. Simon’s knees buckled briefly and she saw his grip tighten on the coffee machine, and she grinned to herself.

I’ve got it. She thought. She went to say something further to him, but was pulled away with the first customers of the lunchtime rush arriving at the counter.

The next hour passed by quickly, a blur of food, people and cash. As per usual it began to die down as 1pm came and went, and soon enough the cafe was nearly empty, save for a few regulars working away on their laptops. Hannah grabbed the bell and sign that read ‘ring for service’ and placed them on the counter, and then headed into the back.

The cafe only served coffee and snacks from the display case from now on, and as such the chefs and dish-boy had gone home. Hannah and Simon would work the cafe together for the afternoon, taking the occasional order and tidying up before closing.

Simon was standing out the back, scrolling on his phone, placing it in his pocket as he saw her coming. Hannah approached him and leaned against the edge of the bench, noting with satisfaction as she saw Simon’s eyes linger on her ass as it swelled over the countertop.

“Busy rush today, huh?” She said casually. “The cafe always gets soooo engorged with customers at lunchtime.”

Simon stifled a noise and shifted slightly on the spot, throwing a suspicious glance at Hannah, who feigned an expression of concern.

“Are you okay?” She asked. His gaze softened as he looked at her, buying it.

“Yeah, yeah, all good.” He said nonchalantly. “I, um.. yeah, it does get busy. It’s always a relief when the customers stop flowing in and the last orders go out.”

Hannah nodded in agreement, hopping up to sit on the bench with her legs swinging in front of her. “My sister is due in a few weeks now.” She said, continuing her air of casual conversation.

“Oh, she would be!” Simon said. They had all attended the same high school, and Simon would know about Hannah’s sister through his social network.

“How’s she doing?” He asked.

“Good! She’s expecting twins, so you can imagine how engorged she is a few weeks out, so engorged she barely fits in anything anymore!”

Simon stifled a groan and grabbed the counter tight, and Hannah’s eyes lingered on his crotch as she saw the outline of his cock swelling.

Her mouth casibom opened involuntarily, and a bit of drool ran out from between her full lips. She looked up at Simon, who had followed her gaze and was staring at her with wide eyes.

“You -” he started to say, interrupted by the ring of a bell from out the front. Hannah hopped off the counter, stretching.

“I’ll get it.” She said, walking through the kitchen and swinging her hips exaggeratedly, knowing his eyes were on her ass. She turned back to him as she reached the corner.

“Engorge engorge.” She said. Simon’s knees buckled and he caught himself on the counter as she rounded the corner, panic in his eyes.

A few minutes later Hannah re-entered the kitchen. Simon approached her quickly, and her eyes bulged as she saw the outline of his huge cock in his pants.

“How do you know?!” He quietly demanded before she could say anything. “Who told you?”

“I… nobody told me! I figured it out.” She said, deciding that lying wasn’t going to get her far any more. He looked doubtful. “I’m serious!” She pleaded. “I noticed the outline in your pants on day months ago, and I paid attention, and I figured out that it was the word engorge for whatever reason-“

She cut off as Simon squeezed his eyes shut in front of her, and she actually saw the outline of his cock swell in his pants.

“Not here!” He said. “Please.”

“Where, then?” She asked hungrily.

“It’s not a parlor trick! I can’t help -“

“Engorge.” She said firmly, watching as he stifled another groan.

“Mmmph… fine. My apartment tonight, I’ll explain it to you. As long as you promise to stop it, now.”

“Engooooorrr… deal.” She said, smirking as Simon grimaced.

————

Hannah arrived at the address Simon had texted her, a tall apartment building. She pulled out her phone and read the instructions.

“Okay…” she mumbled. “Go up two flights, the door with the number 14. Sounds easy enough.”

She pushed in the door of the building and began to climb the steps. She’d gotten changed from her work outfit into something a little more revealing, in the hopes of winning over Simon.

She wore a white wrap-around miniskirt that stopped part way down her thick thighs, her favorite black boots, and a tight t-shirt that highlighted her ample chest. Her long black hair was loose around her shoulders, and her hair plus her black lipstick complimented her pale skin and green eyes well.

She knocked on the door and waited as she heard footsteps approach. Simon opened the door, wearing gray sweatpants and a plain white shirt. His eyes practically bulged when he saw Hannah in her form-fitting shirt and short skirt. He stared at her for a few moments before she spoke up.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, I… right. Yeah, come in.” He said, opening the door and moving aside for her to pass. She walked into the apartment and made her way into the kitchen, Simon closing the door and following behind.

He approached her with genuine concern in his eyes.

“Have you told anyone?” He asked. Hannah shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I swear.”

He looked into her eyes for a moment before sighing, seeming to relax a little.

“Okay. Good. I need you to swear never to tell anyone.”

Hannah smirked. “And why is that? What’s in it for me? And how does this all work, anyway?”

Simon sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “Okay. Fine. When I was a dumb teenager, I made some crude comments to a woman who turned out to be a witch. She put some sort of curse on me, so that whenever I hear, well… the word, I-“

“Engorge.” Hannah interrupted. Simon shook slightly, squeezing his mouth shut.

“Yes. Please, Hannah. I’m being serious. Whenever I hear that word, I grow. Down there. I’ve never told anyone about this before, and I need you to swear you won’t either.”

Hannah considered for a moment. Witches? Really?

“Okay. You’ve told me how it works, but not why I should never tell anyone, or what’s in it for me. Get talking.”

“I’ve never told anyone because I can’t control it!” Simon said, exasperated. “Do you know what kind of power anyone would wield over me with that level of control? I hear the word, I grow. No choice.”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that.” She said in a tone that implied she very much had. He scowled at her.

“It is a lot of control.” Hannah purred, taking a step closer to him. “Any girl who knew your secret could just repeat engorge, engorge, engorge to their heart’s content.”

Simon groaned as his cock and balls started to swell in his pants. Hannah reached out and felt him through the fabric, wrapping her fingers around his shaft.

“Engorge.” She whispered, feeling his cock swell in her grip as he let out a moan.

“You know how I figured you out, Simon?” She said seductively. “Because your curse is my fetish. Do you know how long I’ve wished for a big, tall hunk of a man who’s cock I could manipulate at will? How many giant Casibom slot oyunları dildos I have bounced on, pretending it was the real thing?” She licked her plump lips, not releasing her grip.

“And how big can you get, anyway? How do you get back to normal?”

“I – I don’t know how big I can get. The growth gets more intense the bigger I get, but I’ve never pushed myself far enough. And I shrink back to normal when I cum.” He groaned through gritted teeth.

Hannah’s eyes flashed with lust as she gripped his member tighter and pulled him down by the collar so she could whisper in his ear.

“You still haven’t answered one of my first questions; what’s in it for me? I think I might have to answer it myself.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Wait, Hannah. I just invited you over to hear me out! Not to -“

Hannah pushed Simon up against the cupboard, pressing her ample chest into his torso. He couldn’t help but stare as her soft breasts swelled out as they pressed into him, pale white flesh overflowing her collar. He felt his cock throb in her tight grip.

“Engorge for me, Simon. Engorge!”

Simon groaned, his knees quivering as Hannah felt his cock swelling between her fingers, pulsing and twitching in her grasp.

She released him and took a step back, pulling off her shirt and throwing it to the side, revealing her full chest. She reached up and sunk her fingers into the soft volleyball-sized mounds, grinning as she watched Simon stare, entranced. She reached down and unclipped a clasp at her waist, and her wraparound miniskirt opened and fell to the floor, leaving her suddenly completely undressed.

She stepped towards Simon and then dropped into a squat, grabbing his waistband and pulling down his sweatpants. Her eyes widened as she came face to face with a cock the length of her forearm and as thick as her clenched fist. Veins ran down its shaft and a pair of tennis ball sized testicles hung behind.

“Holy fucking shit.” She breathed, reaching out and grabbing his cock, laying it on her hand and feeling its weight.

“Engorge.” She whispered, and Simon groaned as his cock swelled in her hand. Hannah almost started to drool as she felt it growing heavier in her palm, lengthening and thickening visibly. She looked up at him.

“What did you mean, the growth gets more intense the bigger you get?” She asked. Simon looked down at the busty, curvy goddess holding his cock. This was happening.

“When it’s normal size, every engor…. Every trigger makes it grow a little. But, as it gets bigger, it also starts to grow faster. Like, one trigger while it’s bigger might make it grow as much as ten did when it was smaller. And you’re seriously into this?”

Hannah scowled at him. “Is the man with the magically growing cock really kink shaming me right now?” She stood up and looked up at him, staring him straight in the eyes.

“No, no! I just meant, I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone who was actually into-“

“Engorge.” She said. “Engorge. Engorge. Engorge.” Simon groaned as his cock swelled, inching it’s way down his leg as his testicles swelled past tennis balls.

“Hannah, how big are you…” She placed a finger on his lip, silencing him.

“For kink shaming me,” She said, “I’m making you as big as I like.” She grabbed him by the arm and led him to the bedroom she’d passed on her way in. She pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, placing her dripping pussy on his face, facing herself towards his cock. She sat there for a moment, waiting for Simon to start. After a moment, she scowled again and squeezed the sides of his head with her thighs.

“What are you waiting for, dude? Get eating!”

Needing no further command, Simon began to work his mouth furiously on Hannah’s pussy, licking and sucking with a pent up passion. She fell forward onto her elbows and moaned, Simon’s talent catching her off guard. She found herself face to face with his swollen cock, which hung lower than Simon’s knees, as thick as his calves. She grabbed it and lifted it up from the mattress, marvelling at it’s weight and size. She sat upright on Simon’s face, slowly grinding her hips. Hannah pointed Simon’s throbbing cock at herself, and found it reached about half the distance to her face.

“Well, we’ll need to fix that.” She said through a moan. “Engorge!” Simon’s cock surged forward, inching it’s way towards her face with an impressive speed. Underneath her, Simon squirmed and moaned, and she pressed herself into him harder.

“Fuck.” She breathed as his cock slowed its surge towards her. This last growth spurt had easily cleared half the distance that was left to her face.

“It really does have bigger growth spurts the bigger it gets!”

Hannah climbed off of Simon’s face, and stood up. She grabbed him by the wrist and stood him up, facing the bed. She grabbed his cock, which almost reached the floor now, and heaved it onto the bed. He staggered slightly, his soccer ball Casibom hakkında sized balls swinging between his legs.

“Engorge!” She said again, watching with delight as Simon groaned and his cock surged forward, lengthening and thickening across the bed.

“Holy shit, all that from one engorge?” She asked. Simon winced as the growth accelerated, sped up by the extra trigger. His cock grew and swelled until it spanned the entire width of Simon’s king-size bed.

Hannah jumped on top of Simon’s cock, actually drooling at the sight of it. In a heartbeat she was using her entire body to jerk him off, her legs and torso grinding against his shaft, her hands and mouth working on a head that was bigger than her own.

Simon cried out in pleasure, watching the unbelievable sight of the curvaceous girl in front of him, using her entire body to get off his giant cock. Hannah lifted her head and took a deep breath, and Simon saw her preparing to trigger him again.

“Hannah, wait! I-“

“Engorge!” She cried. Simon’s cock surged forward, spanning the bed and hanging off the other side, Hannah riding along on top of it.

As it surged forward in an unbelievable growth spurt, Hannah found herself suspended in the air past the bed, gripping it with her entire body. It continued to surge forward and she slipped, Simon’s cock covered in precum, and fell onto the floor. She sat up, dazed, leaning back against the wall. She opened her eyes, and then they shot wide as she saw the huge head of his member surging toward her. It pressed forward into her, pushing her against the wall.

Hannah tried to move but found herself pinned against the wall, the giant head of Simon’s cock pressing into her face. The tip was pressed hard against her mouth, and she could taste a trickle of precum leaking into her. She grabbed at his tip, tapping and squeezing it.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” She cried out. She felt Simon’s cock tense up at her touch.

“Fuck, Hannah! You’re gonna make me…” Simon’s sentence trailed off into a moan as Hannah’s tapping and squirming brought him to climax. His whole body shook and he threw his head back, crying out in pleasure.

Before she had time to react, Simon’s cock tensed up further and blasted Hannah with a shot of cum like a fire hydrant had been loosed directly down her throat. Simon’s seed flooded her stomach, and she felt her belly swell as it’s normal capacity was reached and exceeded, growing larger than normal biology would allow.

The tingling feeling that she felt from Simon’s precum earlier returned tenfold, and she swore she could feel her breasts and ass beginning to swell along with her belly. She bloated and swelled as Simon’s cock continued to pour cum down her throat.

Simon’s cum kept flowing into Hannah in one long, continuous pump. She began to panic, realising she was running out of breath, when the flow mercifully stopped. Simon’s cock had shrunk as he came, just as he said it would, and his head had now retreated a few inches away from her face. Hannah coughed, swallowing down a mouthful of cum, and took a deep breath.

“Holy sh…” she started before Simon’s member tensed again, and she was blasted in the face by another round. Hannah raised her hands in a desperate attempt to shield herself as she was barraged by a fire hose of semen. She heard Simon crying with pleasure somewhere towards the opposite wall.

After several seconds of cum, the flow stopped again. Hannah shook off her hands and wiped her eyes, opening them to see that Simon’s cock had shrunk faster during the second spurt than the first. The tip of his over-engorged shaft sat a few feet away from her, on the edge of the bed. She barely had a second to wonder whether Simon’s ‘grow faster the bigger I am’ worked in reverse too, before the third round of cum shot forth.

This one hit Hannah in the chest, the force of it pushing her back into the wall. It lasted as long as the previous two had, and by the time it was over, Simon’s cock had retreated across the bed and was now jutting out from his crotch like a horizontal third leg. Hannah watched from her cum-drenched position against the wall as Simon’s face contorted in pleasure as he came again, Spraying the floor in front of him with cum.

His package shrunk rapidly as he came, like a balloon deflating. He dropped onto his hands and knees as his cock retreated up his leg, his balls reducing to a more manageable size. He stayed on the ground, panting, face flushed for several moments before he looked up and across the bed at Hannah. His jaw dropped as he saw the woman across from her.

Hannah was sitting against the wall, completely drenched in Simon’s load. A swollen belly sat on her lap in front of her, making her look like she was pregnant with small village’s worth of people. Two basketball sized breasts rested upon her stomach, swollen and heavy, shot glass sized nipples pulsing. Her hips and thighs had thickened out noticeably, and Simon could tell there was a swollen ass hiding underneath her torso.

He shakily got to his feet and walked around the bed, approaching her. She looked up at him and coughed, wiping cum from her lips. She adjusted herself on the ground and seemed surprised by the weight of her bloated form as everything wobbled. As he looked down at her, swollen and panting, covered in his cum, his cock twitched.

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I love the moments before meeting a new partner. The anticipation, nerves, and build-up are almost impossible to describe. The thrill of his touch. The casual flirtation. In college, it was easy. I’d go to clubs with friends or frat parties. Finding someone to sleep with was like shooting fish in a barrel. I’d wear my tight tops, showing off my naturally soft 36DD breasts. I typically paired it with a tight skirt, showing off my thick ass and thighs. It was easy; making eye contact with someone would be enough to draw them in. My deep blue eyes beckoned to them. Men, women, it didn’t matter. Sometimes even in groups. My favorite experience was taking a group of black men to their fraternity party. Feeling their thick black cocks filling me.

Using me. Since my marriage, it’s been a bit more complicated. Not that my looks diminished. Maybe a bit more weight, but nothing compared to my Freshman year of college. In my first year of college, I was pushing 200 lbs. Yet, I probably fucked more that year than any other. I weigh 185 lbs, with a good bit of muscle on my frame. I’ve been described as a PAWG, a chubby slut, and even a Milf, though my husband and I have yet to have children. It was shocking at only 25, but perhaps it’s how I carry myself. My confident strides, proud posture, and direct approach to life ages me. Yet, finding partners outside my relationship is challenging. I usually fuck outside of my marriage about once or twice a month. It isn’t enough. Perhaps that is my fault. I’m very rarely satisfied. I always want more. More cock. More pussy. More cum. Tonight, though, that will all change. Tonight, my husband is going to help me.

I’ve always had a feeling my sweet husband had a bit of a cock fetish. I remember before dating him, I’d tease him. Tell him about my dates. My adventures. We met in college at the peak of my sexual exploits. I remember once even showing him a photo of me taking a facial. I let him keep the photo. He still has it hidden somewhere. Our dorm rooms were next to each other, too. And the walls were very thin. I often thought of him touching himself to the sound of me taking cock. Sometimes, I’d get extra loud, begging and screaming. However, I figured he would drop that fantasy once we started dating. I was surprised when I looked through his internet history and found tons of cuckold porn. We are going to a bar together for the first time since college. Tonight, I’m going to test and see if I can turn his fantasies into a reality.

The bedroom door opens, and my husband Tony wears jeans and a button-up shirt. His tall 6’4 frame is standing. I look into his big brown eyes. He runs his fingers through his short brown hair

“You look sexy,” Tony says, smiling, looking me over. I pose, placing my hand on my hip and twirling. As I turn, I shake my thick ass in my tight skirt. I face him again and flash him my tits, pulling them out of my top, sagging over my tight black shirt. I feel his hands pinch and rub my sensitive nipples.

“No, not for you.” I tease, sliding my top up and covering my breasts.

“You sure you don’t want just to stay home? You are looking sexy as fuck.” Tony moans softly, biting his lip.

“Come on, babe, we never do anything fun anymore. I promise I’ll make it worth your time. Besides, I heard this place has live music.” I smirk, shaking my thick ass once again.

Tony nods, biting his lips as he watches my ass shake. Little does he know, this ass is going to be bouncing on another man’s cock.

Tony and I arrive at the local bistro. We squeeze our way up to the bar and find an empty spot. I feel his hand settle comfortably on my lower back as we order our drinks. I glance at him and smile; he gives me that familiar, easy grin.

“So,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “It’s been a while since we did this.”

“Way too long,” I reply, laughing as I sip my drink. “I almost forgot how much I missed just…going out.”

He raises his glass. “Here’s to changing that.”

We clink glasses, and I feel a little spark between us. I lean against the bar, casually scanning the crowd, soaking up the energy in the room. There’s a buzz, a feeling that anything could happen.

Tony moves a little closer, and I catch a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So, Rae, what’s the plan?” he asks.

I grin, letting the question hang in the air. “I don’t know,” I say, “let’s just see where the night takes us.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “With you, that could mean anything.”

And he’s right–it feels like one of those nights where anything is possible.

After a few drinks at the bar, I spot a group of older men sitting at a table. They’re all dressed in business casual. I bite my lip, looking at my husband.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, baby. I’ll be right back.” I say with a gentle smile. I stand, kissing him on the cheek. I walk towards the restroom, walking past the group of older men. I hike my skirt up slightly, showing off my thick ass. Looking back, I notice a couple watching me. One nudges the other, whispering Ankara escort something in his ear. I smirk at him, my hips swaying as I approach the restroom.

In the restroom, I reapply my makeup, adjusting my breasts in my top. I feel the effects of the drinks slightly. I walk back out, noticing the group of men all turn to look at me. I smile at them and give a light wave, holding my clutch–one of the men motions for me to join them. I nod, glancing over at my husband, sitting alone at the bar.

“Hello,” I smile, sitting next to the men.

“Howdy.” One of the men says.

“Who might you be?” Another says.

“My name is Rae. What about you, gentlemen?” I ask, scanning each of them.

“Christian, ” a tall, middle-aged black man says, extending his hand. I take it gently. He looks at my wedding ring as he shakes my hand.

“Are you alone tonight, Rae?” Christian asks. I shake my head.

“My hubby is at the bar.” I look back over to him, lonely, sipping on his whiskey.

“I hope we aren’t interrupting, ma’am. My name is Victor.” A middle-aged white man with brown hair and a well-trimmed beard holds his hand out. I shake it gently, noticing his wedding ring.

“Where is your wife tonight, Victor?” I ask slyly.

“At home.” He says bluntly.

“And she won’t be jealous?” I ask, smirking, taking his drink, running my tongue along his straw before wrapping my lips around it and sipping his drink, my blue eyes locked on him.

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” He asks, looking curiously.

“You mean to tell me if she was here, she would be okay with all of you gentlemen undressing me? Watching me…” I giggle. “I don’t think so, baby.”

“Just a little harmless conversation, Rae. Nothing my wife needs to worry about.” The last man, a muscular middle-aged white man, blonde and clean-shaven, says with a smirk.

“For now… I’m sure given the opportunity…” I say, giggling. “Never mind, I don’t want you-” I say, sighing, teasing the straw with my finger. I lean forward, my big, soft breasts resting on the table.

“What about your husband? He won’t mind you flashing that big ass of yours to a group of married men?” The man asks.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I don’t think I got your name, baby,” I say, smiling.

“Robert, ” the man says, extending his hand. I take it. He brings his lips to my hand and kisses it gently. I blush.

“Robert, if I gave a fuck, do you think I would be sitting here?” I ask, biting my red lips. The group of men burst out in laughter.

After fifteen minutes of chatting with Robert, Victor, and Christin, my phone vibrates in my purse.

“One moment, boys,” I say, excusing myself and answering the phone.

“Husband?” Christian asks. I nod.

“Hey, babe! No, I’m out. I’m sitting with a few friends. Yeah, up here.” I stand, waving down at my husband–a confused look plastered on his face. I motion for him to come up, then hang up.

“I hope you don’t mind if my husband joins,” I ask.

“So long as he doesn’t keep you from us,” Robert laughs. My husband walks up.

“Hello… Rae, what’s going on?” Tony asks.

“Tony baby, this is Victor, Robert, and Christian,” I motion to each man. “They bought me a few drinks. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No… I… I guess not…” Tony says, looking nervously.

I laugh to myself, smiling, ignoring my husband.

“So, what is the plan after here?” I ask the group of men.

“After this, we’re going home,” Tony says sharply. I look up at him, my eyes locked. I shake my head.

“Baby, baby, baby… These men spent a good bit of money on my drinks… I promised we would hang out with them tonight! They’re a lot of fun.”

“Rae, we don’t-” Tony says but is quickly cut off by Robert.

“Tony, we aren’t looking for trouble. We just had a long week of work. We want to relax. Come on, have a seat.” He says, pulling a chair up to the table. Tony sits somewhat outside the circle.

“Baby, there’s nothing to worry about. They are married! They’re traveling for work! What are you worried about?” I ask, smiling at my husband.

“I… I….” He studders.

“Not a thing. It’s just some harmless fun. How about we go back to the motel after this? I want to change out of this damn suit. It’s too loud in here. I can’t think. ” Christian says.

“Yes! Let’s get an Uber! Then we can plan our night there.” My husband shakes his head in shock, but I stand, not giving him much choice.

Robert calls an Uber. As we wait, I chat with the group of gentlemen. My husband stands off to the side, out of the loop. As the Uber approaches, we are back in the back, together. I sit between Robert and Victor. My husband is packed against the window, next to Christian. I feel Robert and Victor’s hands rest on my thighs, slowly stroking my inner thigh as we chat. My eyes look lustfully at both of them.

A short time later, we arrived at their motel. Christian, Victor, and Robert made their way in. As we left the Uber, my husband walked Escort Ankara behind me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

“Rae, what the fuck are we doing here?” He asks, angrily whispering in my ear.

“Relax, baby, I know what I am doing,” I say, kissing my husband passionately before walking through the doorway.

“Would either of you like a drink?” Christian asks. Robert walks into the restroom. I nod. Christian makes me a drink. I smile, taking the glass from him. Robert returns wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. I take a seat on the motel bed.

“What do you boys want to do tonight?” I ask, looking at Robert and Christian.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Christian says.

“What kind of game?” Tony nervously asks, taking a seat on the chair facing the bed.

“Truth or dare?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am, that sounds great. I haven’t played that in ages.” Robert says. Christian returns from the bathroom. He is wearing a wife beater and the same khaki pants he was earlier.

“Can I start?” I ask.

“Of course, Rae. Truth or dare?” Victor asks, sipping on his drink.

“Truth,” I say, crossing my legs.

“Alright… Let me think here… Okay… Have you ever been with a married man?” Victor asks.

“Hey! That’s not-” Tony stands.

“Sit down, Tony, it’s just a question… And yes, in college….” I answer.

“Very interesting. Now you ask?” Victor asks, glancing at Robert and Christian, smiling.

“Okay… Robert… Truth or dare?” I ask, turning my gaze to Robert.

“Truth.” He says firmly.

“Hmmm… Have you ever had sex with someone you just met?” I ask, smirking.

“Rae, what are…” Tony protests.

“It’s a question, relax. Yes, ma’am, a few times. Through various stages. Now I ask you, truth or dare?” Robert says.

“Truth,” I say, sipping my drink.

“Have you ever had multiple men at once?” Robert smirks.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rae. We are leaving.” Tony stands, grabbing my wrist. I snap my wrist away from him.

“You can go if you want. I’m staying. Just sit down.” I say firmly.

“Yeah, sit down, boy.” Christian orders. Tony looks over at him, shocked, then at me.

“And yes, I have,” I answer Robert’s question, my legs spread slightly. Tony sits in his seat.

“How many?” He asks, walking towards me. I giggle, finishing my drink.

“Baby, that’s not how the game is played… Alright. Tony… Truth or dare?”

“Tr-Truth.” Tony chokes out.

“Okay… Have you ever fantasized about me taking another cock?” I ask, my eyes fixed on him. Tony shifts uncomfortably.

“I… Rae, I’m not… Are you kidding me?” Tony answers, furious, his face red. He glances at the men.

“Tony, baby… You don’t have to lie. I’ve seen the videos you watch…” The group of men chuckles, moving closer. “Now be honest. Do you ever fantasize about other men fucking me?” I ask, my blue eyes locked on his, spreading my legs slightly.

“I… Rae…” Tony blushes.

“Tony, baby, don’t be embarrassed,” I say, smiling softly and looking at the men.

“Rae, I-” Tony stammers.

“Answer the question. Have you ever fantasized about me fucking other men?” I ask, exposing my panties to my husband as he sits on the chair across from me.

“Answer the question, Tony.” Victor orders.

“I do… Fuck… I do…” Tony finally admits, looking at the men, then at me. I smile, biting my lip, smirking at the three men–the chuckle, closing in on me.

“Good boy… Now ask me a question…” I say softly, smiling at my sweet husband.

“Rae… Do you want these men to fuck you?” He asks, biting his lip and seeing them move towards me.

“I do…” I nod, biting my lip… Looking at the three middle-aged men.

“I believe you ask the question now, Rae,” Robert says; the men stand close to the edge of the bed. I look up at them.

“Victor… truth or dare?” I ask, smiling at him, adjusting my top, pulling my top down, showing off my bra, and hanging them over my top.

“Fuck… Truth…” He says, moaning softly.

“Am I hotter than your wife?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“So much.” He says. “Truth or dare, Rae?” He asks, brushing my hair behind my ear.

“Dare…” I say, smirking.

“I dare you to show your husband what a dirty slut he married.” He says firmly. I nod, looking at my husband.

“Sorry baby, I don’t like to lose games,” I smirk, sliding onto my knees. I pull my top off and hold my tits in my bra, my eyes scanning the three men surrounding me.

“Robert, truth or dare?” I ask, smirking at him.

“Dare.” He says firmly, running his hand through my hair.

“I dare you to pull that cock out for me,” I say, licking my lips hungrily. Without hesitation, he unzips his jeans, pulls his boxers down, and his cock springs to attention.

“You like it, Rae?” He asks, grabbing the base of his cock, twirling it. I nod, looking up at him. I grab his big, thick, veiny white cock.

“Tony, look how big he is.” I look back Escort Bayan at my husband, holding Robert’s thick cock against my fave. His warm, thick, heavy dick presses against my pale skin.

“You will enjoy that,” Tony says; I giggle, seeing his cock twitch at the sight of my face against another man’s dick. I nod. I am looking up at Robert, smiling.

“I know I will… Fuck, how big are you, baby?” I ask, wrapping my small, freshly manicured hand around his thick dick. My hand is barely able to wrap around the perimeter of his dick.

“Eight and a half inches,” Robert smirks. My jaw drops slightly.

“Tony, he is twice your size!” I giggle to myself, then let out a soft moan.

“Can I play with it?” I ask innocently, my big ice-blue eyes locked on Roberts’s dark brown eyes.

“I dare you to.” Robert moans. I smirk, opening my mouth and letting my wet tongue trail up the top of his cock. My hand begins working his thick veiny cock. My tongue twirls around his growing cock.

“You like seeing your sexy ass wife take my cock, Tony?” Robert asks, smirking, his hands gripping the top of his head. Tony nods, watching me work my tongue along Robert’s cock. I smile at my husband, making eye contact with him, as I open my mouth wide and slide Robert’s big thick cock down my throat. I hold still, twirling my tongue around his cock counterclockwise. My eyes move from my husband to Robert. Looking deep into his eyes, I bob my head back and forth. I feel hands on my back, undoing my bra. My big natural tits hang free. My tongue rolls masterfully, trailing and tracing the veins of his dick.

“Fuck, your wife sucks cock like a pornstar.” Robert moans, holding the back of my head. My big tits bounce as he begins fucking my throat. Sliding in and out of my mouth, gagging me each time, his cock entirely disappears down my throat. Spit drips down my soft, pale skin to my big, bouncing, natural breasts.

“Fuck she looks so hot, Tony,” Christian says, standing behind me, holding my big tits, pinching my hard pink nipples. Robert releases me. I gasp, spit dripping down my lips to my tits, connecting his cock to my lips, my hand working his thick, spit-covered cock.

“Come on, boys. I want all three of you. Don’t let Robert have all the fun.” I smile, looking up at the other two men. Without hesitation, they nod, dropping their pants. I feel their heavy cocks press on each side of my shoulder as I return to Robert’s cock. My hands are behind my back. My eyes locked on his. My breasts pushed out, bouncing as I bob my head, rolling my tongue, toying with his cock.

“Fuck. Let me get some.” Christian moans. I pull away, looking up at him. My tongue rolls around his heavy hanging thick dark cock. I lift his cock up, trailing my tongue on the underside of his thick dick. I moan, twirling my tongue around his balls.

“Tony, sweetie, you can touch yourself if you want. I know you’re enjoying watching me please these big cocks.” I moan, turning to face my husband. My back now to him. Victor and Robert on each side of me. Christian is standing in front of me.

“Thank you, Rae.” My husband chokes out, pulling down his pants. I giggle slightly, seeing him pull his cock out, hard as a rock but still barely over half the size of Victor, who has the smallest dick between the three men.

“Tony, do you think I look better than those pornstars you were jerking off to?” I ask playfully, craning my head back to look at him. I sit on my heels, my thick pale ass poking out of my skirt. I turn back to Christian and take his long hard black cock deep down my throat. I gag, deepthroating his cock, tongue slapping and teasing him.

“Fuck, better than any I’ve ever seen.” Victor moans as I stroke him and Robert. My small hands methodically stroke the two gentlemen at my side.

“Better than your wives?” I ask playfully, pulling my lips from Christian’s cock.

“Yes, ma’am.” Robert moans.

“Absolutely.” Victor agrees, groaning, moving his hips as if he’s fucking my hand.

“Fuck, yes. Get back on this cock.” Christian moans, gripping me by the top of my head and guiding me back to his dick. I maon, feeling the spit drip down to my tits as my head bobs back and forth, working the length of his big, black, married dick.

“Fuck, Tony. You are one lucky son of a bitch. You married a real cock hungry slut.” Robert moans as he grips my breasts firmly. I hear Tony moan in agreement. I smirk, looking up, deepthroating Christian’s dick, my tongue rolling expertly around his thick shaft, teasing his balls, as I gag on his thick cock. I pull back, gasping.

“Your wives can’t take care of you like I can.” I tease, smirking, kissing each cock head. I turn to Victor. I feel his cock slap firmly at my blushing-red cheeks. I open my mouth, gripping his cock. My blue eyes are piercing his. I slap his cock to my wet tongue. I moan, swirling my tongue around his cock head; taking his dick down my throat, I begin bobbing my head back and forth.

“Fuck, let’s see that pussy.” Christian moans.

“You read my mind.” Robert laughs; I feel him move behind me. He yanks my skirt down. I shake my fat pale ass for all four men, twerking as I hold Victor’s cock down my throat.

“Look at that fucking ass. God damn.” Victor moans, holding the back of my head, fucking my throat.

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Harper let out a melancholy sigh. The soon-to-be sophomore sorority girl had been to a dozen antique shops over the past few days and still she hadn’t found what she was looking for. She’d impulsively bought more than a few items that caught her fancy, so it wasn’t like she felt she’d wasted her time, but purchasing a few neat trinkets was not her mission.

Her orders came from the very top of her sorority, Leah Zheng, and Harper was desperate not to let her flawless idol down. She needed to find one of those old-timey doctor’s scales, the kind with the sliding weights, before summer vacation ended in a month.

Looking around, the inquisitive young lady put down a nifty fishing rod she’d found and started making her way out of the latest antique shop. She found such old and dusty places exhilarating to explore, but the aesthetic of this old house turned antique shop bordered on creepy. Maybe there was simply too much taxidermy for Harper’s liking. She’d actually stumbled upon this shop in the middle of nowhere while on her way to a more popular one she’d looked up online near the Appalachian trail. So, on her way out she still had some hope she’d be able to fulfill her mission without having to resort to driving a whole extra hour to her original destination.

However, looking around the mazelike business, Harper realized she’d forgotten which way she’d come in. She knew she had recently passed by a large mirror, because she’d snapped a few selfies of herself to send to her sorority sisters, but she couldn’t seem to spot it anywhere. At 5’9 and 145lbs, Harper maintained the figure of a youthful hourglass by involving herself in club sports since she had entered college, but she was more of a coward than her sturdy appearance would suggest. The fact that she was the only customer in this empty shop in the middle of nowhere was starting to get to her.

Wandering from room to room, Harper eventually stumbled upon what appeared to be a bathroom, except it was stripped completely bare, with one notable exception.

There, against the far wall of the room, sat exactly what Harper had been looking for. A sizable old-timey scale that clearly could use a good cleaning and a paint job, but otherwise looked perfect for the retro aesthetic of the sorority house’s basement party area.

‘What a find!’ Harper thought, as she decided to step on and see if the thing actually worked.

Harper didn’t take off her shoes since the scale appeared dirty and dusty. Plus, she was only wearing some jean shorts and a high-neck tank top, so it wasn’t like she was wearing heavy winter clothes.

As Harper slowly adjusted the weights, she found the activity pretty fun. There was something novel about the old technology. Yet, then again, she did have a love of old things.

Nudging the lighter weight closer to 145lbs, Harper bit her tongue as she realized she had to prod the dang thing closer to 147lbs before it appeared fully balanced.

“Well, I did have a big breakfast…” Harper mused to herself, as she patted her flat tummy and noticed something was etched into both of the measuring weights. Whatever it said, it wasn’t written very large, and it certainly wasn’t written in English. Harper pondered what the message could be for a moment, but soon shrugged off her curiosity.

At the very least, Harper knew the scale was in working condition.

Unlike her athletic body, the scale weighed a ton. It took Harper more than a few minutes to drag the heavy thing up to the front desk of the rural establishment.

“Excuse me, I can’t seem to find a price tag… How much does this scale cost?” Harper asked the old looking lady behind the counter. She looked as ancient as the antiques in her shop.

“Not for sale.” The old hag mumbled.

Harper wasn’t even sure if the old lady had opened her eyes, “You’re kidding right? This thing is exactly what I’m looking for.”

“What skinny girl like you need scale for?” The elderly woman uttered with a thick accent of some kind.

“It’s not for me personally. It’s for my sorority.” Harper explained, while she suspected the old lady must have been some kind of eastern European immigrant, maybe Russian, but she truly had no idea. Quoting the words of her sorority’s president, Harper absentmindedly blabbered, “Y’know, to weed out the fatties come rush week.”

Tilting her head in Harper’s direction for the first time, and adjusting her glasses, the elderly lady seemed to give the preppy and posh young coed a once-over before seeming to change her mind, “It’s free.”

“What?” Harper muttered in disbelief, while she nervously pierced the bushy black hair of her small afro with her manicured fingernails and scratched an itch she had toward the back of her head.

“Scale is free. Take it.”

‘And Leah said I didn’t know how to haggle!’ Harper excitedly thought to herself with glee, as she clapped her hands together with joy.

“Really? Gee, thanks lady!” Harper smiled, while she suddenly remembered something, “Ohh, and I was wondering. What’s scribbled into it at the top? On the weights. Is that Latin?”

Looking to where Harper was pointing, the old lady hummed, “Hmm, not Latin.”

“Dang, any idea what it says?” Harper curiously wondered. She looked a little closer at the letters etched into the sliding weights, wishing she could know what they meant.

“A vain human is a noxious creature. Living to pretend, living to seem, living to appear. For those who are full of themselves, let them grow full…” The old hag bellowed in a stern tone.

“Huh?” Harper sighed in confusion, as her eyes narrowed on the writing, “Is that all? What does that mean? Is that some kinda poem?”

There was no answer. Yet, Harper was positive that there must have been more to translate judging from the shear amount of writing etched into the weights.

Harper turned to look at the old lady and question her again, but the elderly woman wasn’t behind the counter anymore.

“Hello?” Harper called out, “Old lady?”

Once again, there was no answer.

“I’m taking the scale! Thanks again!” Harper called out not wanting to waste any more time on this task. The old lady had probably snuck off to the bathroom or something. Besides, the scale was what Harper was interested in, not whatever odd poem it had written on it. And so just like that, Harper dragged the scale to her car and started hauling it back to her home. She couldn’t wait to tell Leah about her good fortune!

Harper spent the better part of the next week enjoying what remained of summer vacation. Her days were spent hanging out with old friends, and her nights were spent watching scary movies. When she had some downtime, she gave the old scale a good cleaning and even a new paint job. The morning she finished that specific task, Harper absentmindedly stepped upon the scale to check her weight.

After adjusting the sliding weights, Harper was a little taken aback to discover she weighed 150lbs.

“That’s a little more than usual…” Harper hummed a little doubtful of how accurate her ancient scale could be.

Stepping off, Harper took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, and taking a twirl for good measure, her eyes confirmed she looked just as slim and sexy as ever.

Stepping on the scale again, Harper tilted her head in confusion, as the scale now seemed slightly unbalanced. Nudging the smaller sliding weight, a little bit to the left, the scale balanced at 151lbs.

Feeling a sinking sensation in the depths of her stomach, Harper reacted a bit harshly. She quickly flung off her crop top, and then did the same with her jean shorts, tugging the clothing off one leg at a time as she remained on the scale. In nothing but her underwear, the scale appeared a little unbalanced once again, although this time it needed to be adjusted a little lower.

Adjusting it impatiently, Harper balanced the weights at 150lbs.

“Liar! I do not weigh 150lbs! I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.” Harper grunted feeling more than a little annoyed. Taking off her clothes should have dropped her weight by at least two pounds. The young woman felt cheated. So much so she added, “I need a second opinion.”

Hopping off the scale aggressively, Harper dug under the sink for a conventional electronic scale. Powering it on, Harper impatiently tapped one foot on the crude measuring apparatus until the lights blinked red, and then stepped on. To her absolute fury, the number that blinked at her read:

*150lbs*

“F*ck no!” Harper cried feeling victimized by her scales. There was no way she’d gained five pounds in less than a week. She wasn’t on her period. She wasn’t retaining water, if anything she was feeling a little dehydrated this morning. She hadn’t eaten anymore than normal this week and she’d jogged twice this week!

Gazing at herself again in the mirror, Harper held her tongue, as she slowly realized something. Looking at her stomach, it did actually appear she’d lost some muscle tone, she had the makings of a little soft belly pooch just under her belly button. It was slight, but it was there. In fact, her thighs looked a little fleshier too.

Suddenly the prospect that she may have put on a little weight didn’t feel so improbable. She had no idea why she hadn’t seen it before. She’d have to identify whatever bad habits had caused this problem, kick them, and hit the gym these last two weeks before she returned to college or else, she’d get an earful from Leah and her sorority sisters…

Over the next two weeks, as Harper made a concerted effort to eat better and exercise more, but she wasn’t losing weight. In fact, she was gaining it. Every morning, she weighed herself and every morning she came in at a pound heavier than she did the previous morning. As the days progressed, she was slowly finding it harder and harder to move around on her feet. Granted, walking wasn’t a problem, but running only seemed to grow considerably more tiresome the more she did it. She would start a jog completely fine, but after a while she’d get a dull ache deep in her stomach. When she’d stop to catch her breath, she’d grow weak in the knees.

As her weight grew ever higher, her clothing began growing tighter. It was a nightmare come true for someone so focused on fitting in with her judgmental and spoiled college sorority. With her return to campus growing ever nearer, it became clear to Harper that she couldn’t shed her newfound pudge in time. So, the resourceful soon-to-be college sophomore decided to try and hide the newfound fat on her body with loose clothing. However, there was now a lot of pudge to hide…

“Hey Harper!” Leah waved to her friend a few days later, as Harper approached the sorority house from her car carrying a box of stuff in front of her.

“Hey Leah!” Harper tried to reply with just as much enthusiasm as her friend, but her insecurities were conveyed by her slightly nervous tone.

Leah looked flawless as always. Her long dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail. She was wearing a pretty yellow-daisy floral-print cap-sleeve crop top, and a sexy black mini skirt. She loved to dress the colors of her favorite football team, the Pittsburgh Steelers.

The shirt was one Harper recognized, Leah had borrowed it from her the previous semester and never returned it. Leah had a reputation for doing that if she really liked an article of clothing. Harper didn’t have the guts to ask for it back.

The revealing garment was tasteful in that it didn’t really highlight Leah’s considerable c-cup cleavage but emphasize the narrow nature of her waist and the defined looked of her abdominal muscles. At 5’8 and 120lbs, the Chinese-American’s lean hourglass shape was far more conventionally ideal than Harper’s newly overfed-looking hourglass figure.

“Harper? What’s wrong?” Leah sighed, as Harper reluctantly put the box she was carrying down on the steps of the sorority house and let the sorority president see her newfound chubbiness. Although she’d tried to hide her plump gut with a peplum top, there was no hiding her newfound belly.

Leah was speechless for a moment, as she checked out her friend from head to toe twice over. Gone was Harper’s once lean and sexy stomach, in its place stood a plump looking beer gut that jutted slightly outward from her tight jeans. The seams of which appeared particularly strained around Harper’s thick thighs and curvy hips.

“Jeez, what did you do all summer? Sit on your ass and snort cookies and cream?” Leah nearly coughed, as if fat was a disease she could catch from her, merely by being in close proximity.

Embarrassed and shamed to the core, Harper didn’t try to deny the truth, “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I’ve put on like 15 pounds in two weeks.”

“Gosh, your gut has gotten huge. This won’t do.” Leah gushed with a prodding pinch to Harper’s lower belly roll. It was like she hadn’t even listened to what Harper had just said. Instead, she added judgmentally, “You need to go on a diet asap.”

“I’ve been trying to diet!” Harper pouted, “And exercise! Nothing is working!”

“Clearly you haven’t been trying hard enough.” Leah responded doubtfully.

“Stop picking on me!” Harper snapped feeling defensive and insecure.

“I’m not picking on you! I’m your friend! I’m just telling you like it is. Think of what Rachel, Samantha, and the other girls are going to say.” Leah countered, as she peered around Harper’s backside and dropped her jaw at the sight of Harper’s thicker butt cheeks. There was a lot more junk in Harpers trunk than she remembered.

Gulping with worry, Harper whimpered, “Oh god… I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“No. No of course not, but you clearly need my help. It’s a slippery slope Harper. First you start filling out your bras a bit better, then soon you notice your pants are getting tight, then before you know it, you’ve grown an unsightly pot-belly and our sorority’s reputation takes a nose dive!” Leah paused, staring at Harper’s little gut, before making her next point, “This sorority used to have standards. Our reputation used to mean something. Eta Lamda Pi used to be a synonym for sexy.”

“What do you want me to do about it? Dieting isn’t working for me.” Harper complained sounding ashamed of herself.

“The first thing we are going to do is go shopping. You are going to dress conservatively until we can get your ‘situation’ under control. And secondly, I’m going to institute a new sorority bylaw and I want your support on getting it ratified.” Leah concluded in typical authoritative fashion.

“Okay, what is it?” Harper agreed without hesitation.

“What everyone really needs is motivation and accountability. So, every week, everyone in the sorority must weigh in. Except for you, you’ll weigh yourself every day until we get your situation taken care of. By doing this, we’ll all hold each other accountable. Everyone will look as beautiful as possible and there will be no question which sorority has the hottest coeds on campus.” Leah commanded, before adding, “Where is that dirty old scale you got for rush week?”

“It’s still in my car. I cleaned it and gave it a new paint job.” Harper explained dreading the thought of having to weigh-in in front of Leah every day, but not having the nerve to object.

“Great, bring it to the basement, we’ll uses it for our weigh-ins.” Leah smiled sounding pleased with her solution.

“Can I have some help? It’s kinda heavy.” Harper asked looking vulnerable.

Leah just shrugged in response, adding, “Of course. Helping my sisters is what I do.”

The two of them then headed to Harpers car and started heaving the scale toward the house. Even for two able-bodied young women such as Leah and Harper, getting the scale up the steps to the house and then down the steps to the basement was a tough task.

“God this thing weighs a ton!” Leah exclaimed, as the two dropped the scale nice and softly across from the semi-furnished basements’ makeshift bar and pong table.

The girls had added some carpets to the floor to make the place cozier and decorated a ton, but the ceiling was pretty open, and Harper could see more than a few exposed pipes. In fact, just above where they put the scale were some lower lying pipes with two fuzzy handcuffs attached to them. Harper remembered them from rush week. They were for one of the sorority’s particularly strict initiation rituals.

“Tell me about it.” Harper agreed, while catching her breath. In the silence that followed her stomach growled, prompting the nervous sophomore to ask, “So what did you wanna do for lunch?”

“I was gonna order pizza and maybe some fries.” Leah tentatively revealed to her pudgy friend.

“Pizza sounds heavenly!” Harper gushed unconsciously placing a hand on her plump little gut.

Raising a judgmental eyebrow, and glancing at Harper’s thick waist, Leah wondered, “Do you think you should be having any pizza in your current condition?”

“Yes?” Harper hopefully squeaked with some apprehension in her voice.

“Let’s ask the scale if you should get pizza. Go on. Step on.” Leah ordered, as Harper reluctantly obeyed.

Nudging the little measuring weights had been fun when she’d been doing it alone but having someone tilt the weights on the scale for her was somehow inspiring a sense of trepidation deep within her gut. It was like she suddenly felt a little fatter than a second ago.

“163lbs… Wow. Someone’s got a greedy gut.” Leah exclaimed quite snobbishly.

“Oh come on! I was 162lbs when I weighed myself this morning! I swear!” Harper grunted in astonished disbelief. It was like every time she weighed herself, she weighed a little more than she did before!

“The scale never lies Harper. I’ll order pizza and fries for everyone’s little welcome back meal, but it’s going to be a vinegar salad for you. And nothing else.” Lina ordered with a judgmental poke to Harper’s pudgy midsection.

That night, it was apparent to Harper’s sorority sisters that she had put on some weight. However, many had experienced the freshman 15 at one time or another during college, so Harper didn’t receive as much social sanctions as she expected. Yes, her clothes were a little too tight, yes, she did have a little belly now, and yes, some people teased her about it but by and large the weight gain wasn’t enough for her sisters to treat her that much differently.

Lina eventually called the girls together for a meeting, proposed her weekly-weigh-in plan and just like that, the whole house marched down to the basement to be weighed. Since everyone had partaken in pizza and fries, as well as some beer, apart from Harper, nobody batted an eye when the baseline weights were a pound or two higher than normal.

Nobody except Harper.

She struggled to understand how she weighed in at 165lbs, two pounds heavier than earlier that same day, when she’d only eaten a small salad and gulped down a small glass of water. It didn’t make sense. Nothing about her gain the previous month had made sense, yet here she was fatter than ever. It felt like a nightmare, but she was the heaviest girl in the sorority. She prayed that as the semester continued her weight would return to normal.

A month later, Harper’s prayers hadn’t been answered.

As she got ready before her daily weigh-in, Harper paused while she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. It appeared fuller. There was no denying it. Although she’d stuck to her diet and kept up with her exercise, she hadn’t shaken off any weight. Harper didn’t know how, but the opposite had happened. She’d piled it on. Almost 30 pounds in 30 days.

Part of Harper understood that she wasn’t going to have the same body in college that she did in high school. However, she never thought in her wildest dreams that she’d outgrow her entire wardrobe one month into her sophomore year. Her legs had thickened, especially her hips and thighs. Her butt had grown girthier and wider, her belly had gone from a pooch to a bonified potbelly. Her breasts, once shapely and firm, had exploded in size. She looked like a girl that ate at chipotle for breakfast lunch and dinner and guzzled down beer each and every night.

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You’ve been with him long enough to know what normal used to feel like.

The way his eyes used to linger. The way he’d reach for your hand, your hip, your hair. The way he’d touch you just because he could, not because he was expected to. It used to feel so natural. So easy. Like desire was something that didn’t need asking for.

Now?

Now it’s been seventeen days since he’s touched you.

You count them.

You try not to. You tell yourself not to be that kind of woman — the bitter, pathetic one who tallies every missed kiss like a diary of failure. But you can’t help it. You lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he even notices the space between your bodies. You used to sleep tangled up together. Now there’s a full pillow’s width between you.

Sometimes he turns his back. Sometimes he doesn’t even say goodnight.

You tell yourself it’s stress. Work. Bills. The kids. Anything but the truth scratching at the inside of your skull.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

And why would he?

You’ve seen yourself lately.

You didn’t bounce back after the second baby. You never lost the weight. Your stomach hangs in folds now, soft and useless. Your breasts — once full, round, pretty — now sag against your chest, stretch marks tracing long, pale scars down the sides. Your thighs rub together when you walk. You can’t wear any of your old jeans. Even your face looks different now. Puffier. Rounder. Tired.

You’re not the woman he married.

You know it. And you think maybe… maybe he knows it too.

He’s always polite. Always kind. That’s what makes it worse. He never says anything cruel. Never tells you what you already believe about yourself. He just stops reaching. Stops looking. Stops wanting.

He still kisses you goodbye. But it’s quick now. Barely a brush. Like a habit, not a hunger.

You catch your reflection in the hallway mirror one morning and feel a slow wave of disgust crawl through your gut. You lift your shirt, look at your stomach in the dim light, and pinch the soft skin between your fingers. You jiggle it. You stare at it like it betrayed you.

When did you become this?

You try to fight it.

You start skipping breakfast. You throw away the biscuits you used to hide in the top cupboard. You order cheap yoga mats online, work out in the living room while the kids nap. You sweat and gasp through thirty-minute videos that leave your legs shaking, your heart pounding, and your face blotchy and red.

But when he comes home, he doesn’t notice.

He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t even glance at you.

You dress up for him on a Saturday night. Just for dinner in. Nothing fancy. You put on a dress that used to make him stare. It barely fits. It clings in the wrong places. Rides up where it shouldn’t. But you try. You fix your hair. You do your makeup. You spray perfume behind your ears like it still matters.

He smiles when he sees you.

But it’s the kind of smile you’d give your mum when she asks how she looks.

He says, “You look nice.”

And then sits down and scrolls through his phone for half the meal.

You barely touch your food.

That ataşehir escort night, you slip into bed in the dress. You leave it on, just the top unzipped, exposing the better parts of what used to be your body. You reach for him. Slide your hand across his stomach. Try to touch him like you used to.

He says he’s tired.

Turns over.

And just like that — the silence wraps around you again.

You lie there, burning.

Not just with humiliation, but shame. Grief, even. For the woman you used to be. For the way he used to want you. For the way you used to feel proud to undress in front of him. Now you can barely look at your own body in the mirror without wincing.

You remember once — years ago — him lifting you onto the counter in the kitchen, his hands gripping your thighs like he couldn’t wait. You remember how he used to moan into your neck, tell you how good you felt, how perfect you were, how no one turned him on like you did.

Now he doesn’t even get hard when you kiss him.

You lie awake most nights now.

He sleeps easily. Peacefully.

You lie there tracing every detail — every change in routine, every smile that felt just a little too forced. The way he takes his phone into the shower now. The new cologne he never mentioned. The gym bag in the car even though he hasn’t mentioned working out.

You haven’t said anything.

You don’t want to be that woman — the jealous one, the paranoid one.

But the thought sits in your stomach like spoiled meat.

You wonder who she is.

You wonder what she looks like.

And you already know: she’s younger. Slimmer. She has clear skin and perkier tits and a stomach she doesn’t have to hide. Her clothes fit. Her laugh is effortless. She doesn’t apologize when she takes off her shirt. She doesn’t flinch when she undresses in front of a man.

She doesn’t smell like breastmilk and stress and exhaustion.

She smells like perfume and youth and everything you can’t compete with anymore.

You picture them together sometimes. When you’re home alone. When the kids are at school and the house is quiet. You close the bedroom door and lie back on the bed and imagine what he’s doing. Where he is. What he’s touching.

And sometimes — you touch yourself.

Not because it feels good.

But because you need to remember what it’s like to be wanted. Even if only in your head. Even if only by a man who’s no longer touching you.

You cum fast. Quiet. Sad.

You never feel better afterward.

The worst part is… you don’t even hate him for it.

If he is cheating — if he is touching someone else — you almost feel like you understand. You are ruined. Your body is a mess. You’re always tired. You never feel sexy. You can’t even fake confidence anymore.

Maybe this is what happens.

Maybe this is what you become when you let yourself go. When you trade lace underwear for maternity pants and Friday night sex for bath time and bedtime stories.

Maybe you should just be grateful he still comes home to you at all.

Maybe you don’t deserve more.

You wouldn’t fuck you either.

So escort ataşehir you keep smiling. Keep cooking. Keep folding his clothes and pretending not to notice the new underwear that isn’t yours. You keep pretending the smell of another woman on his shirt is detergent. You keep telling yourself the lipstick stain on the coffee mug was yours.

Because it’s easier than hearing him say it.

That you’re not enough anymore.

That he’s found someone better.

That you’re nothing but a wife now — soft, stretched, broken — and he needs to feel like a man again.

Even if it means letting someone else make him feel it.

You’ll keep pretending.

Until he stops hiding it.

And part of you already hopes he doesn’t.

Because at least then… you can finally see her.

And maybe — if you beg — he’ll let you watch.

And you do pretend.

You become good at it.

You laugh when he tells you he’s working late, even though your stomach twists. You nod when he says he’s going out with friends, even though your chest feels like it’s caving in. You help him pick out a shirt that makes him look good. You smile while you iron it. You watch him spritz cologne onto his neck — not the one he wears for you anymore, but the new one, the sharper, fresher scent.

He doesn’t even know that you know it’s not for you.

But you know.

Of course you do.

You know everything — except the truth. Because he hasn’t said it. Not out loud. Not yet.

And until he does, you can cling to the last thread of denial like it’s still worth something.

He’s just tired. He’s just busy. You’ve just let yourself go too much. You just need to work harder. Cook more. Be more grateful. Maybe give him more space. Maybe pretend you don’t see what’s missing — because if you acknowledge the emptiness, it becomes real.

So you play your part.

You clean the house before he gets home. You light candles. You lay out the dinner you spent hours planning. You wear the dress again — the one that clings too tight. The one that digs into your hips now and makes your back ache when you sit too long.

You do your hair. Paint your face. Shave every inch of yourself. Moisturize your thighs, even though they jiggle no matter what you do.

You try.

You really try.

And he smiles. He says “thanks, babe” as he bites into his food and barely glances up. He talks about his day — not asking about yours. He checks his phone every few minutes. He laughs when it buzzes. He smiles at the screen in a way he hasn’t smiled at you in months.

That smile cuts deeper than any slap could.

And you wonder, quietly, if he’s texting her right in front of you.

You don’t ask. Of course not. You just excuse yourself to the bathroom and sit on the closed toilet lid, skirt hiked up, head between your hands, trying not to cry.

You think about your body — your bloated belly, your purple stretch marks, the way your tits droop to the sides when you lie down. You think about your smell. Your hair. The dark line along your jaw that never used to be there. The bags under your eyes. The fact that your ankles ataşehir escort bayan are always swollen now. That your knees creak when you crouch. That you haven’t worn matching underwear in years.

You think, How could he still want me?

And worse — Why should he?

Maybe this is just what happens. Maybe men aren’t wired to stay attracted to women like you — women who’ve been torn open by childbirth, who wear old leggings and wipe spit-up off their shirt instead of perfume.

Maybe wanting him to stay faithful is selfish.

Maybe you should just be grateful he still comes home at all.

So you return to the table, cheeks flushed, lips forced into a smile. And when he says, “I might be back late tonight,” you nod.

You say, “Take your time.”

And he does.

You sit up alone until after midnight.

You scroll through old photos of yourself. You zoom in on the ones he used to like — when your stomach was flat, when your thighs didn’t touch, when your smile didn’t look like it was hiding something.

You study them like they’re crime scene photos. Trying to find the moment you stopped being enough.

The next morning, there’s a long blonde hair on the passenger seat of his car.

Your hair is short. Dark.

You stare at it for a long time before brushing it away.

You don’t say a word.

You just go inside and make coffee and pretend you didn’t see it.

That weekend, you find a pair of lace panties in the laundry that aren’t yours. Not even close to your size. Tiny. Lacy. Playful.

You freeze.

Your breath catches in your throat. The kids are in the next room. The house is filled with the smell of toast and cartoons and normalcy.

And you’re holding her underwear in your hand.

You should confront him.

You should scream.

But instead, you bring them to your face.

And you sniff.

The scent is faint. Sweet. Young. Clean in a way you haven’t smelled in years. There’s a tang underneath it — the unmistakable trace of pussy. And maybe, just maybe, his cum.

Your knees wobble.

Your stomach flips.

And your cunt throbs.

You don’t know what’s worse — that he’s cheating, or that you’re wet just imagining it.

You hate yourself.

You hate your soft, stretched skin. Your broken confidence. Your hungry, desperate body. You hate that after all this, you still want him. You still dream of being touched. Still dream of being seen.

Still dream of being used.

That night, you press the panties to your face in the dark and masturbate while he sleeps beside you.

You cum fast. Hard. Pathetically quiet, biting the edge of the sheet, clenching around nothing. And you imagine him pressing her into the bed, moaning into her neck, gripping her tighter than he’s held you in years.

You imagine her toes curling, her eyes rolling back, her mouth open in a moan as he fills her.

You imagine yourself in the doorway — watching. Kneeling. Holding your breath as you press your face into the sheets they just fucked on, praying he’ll let you clean them.

You imagine him pulling out and wiping himself off on your face.

And you cum again.

Alone.

In silence.

In shame.

You tell yourself it’s just a fantasy.

But you know it’s not.

You know, deep down, that he’s already doing it.

And the only thing worse than knowing… is wondering how far he’ll go before he tells you to watch.

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Adam held Anabel’s waist powerfully and tightly with his left hand. With his right, he palmed the small space between her shoulder blades. Anabel was kneeling on our brand new sofa with Adam standing behind her. From our new armchair just an arm’s reach away, I watched them.

Gently, Adam pushed downwards on Anabel’s delicate upper back, bending her body forward. As her soft cheek pressed into the black leather, Anabel turned towards me. She looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time, since the first time we met at a party post-college. That night, in the kitchen of some guy’s apartment who was a coworker of mine and a friend of her friend, we locked eyes. I walked towards her. A few minutes later she looked at me the same way as tonight, that time wondering if I had the balls to kiss a girl I’d just met, one whose shitty on-and-off boyfriend was in the other room.

Like then, she wondered. Was I really going to go through with this?

A few years ago, I never thought my cuckold fantasies would escape my mind. I kept them locked away in an impenetrable mental fortress, embarrassed by that part of myself and unable to explain why it exists. That was before I met Anabel, the only one who can break down my walls.

As I watched, Adam pressed himself into Anabel. I could tell he so badly wanted to feel her warmth wrapped around him for the first time. Who wouldn’t? She was beautiful, flirtatious, and unbelievably turned on. She wanted this just as badly as I did.

The first conversation that led to this moment was a year prior. Tipsy after a Memorial Day party, were flirting around in our bed, alone in childless bliss, on the way to “poundtown” as probably would have described it at the time. I was very immature, we had only been dating a few months. And that day, I was tipsier than I planned to be. Stumbling through words, I mentioned that sometimes, just sometimes, the thought of her “cheating” on me, (with my blessing, of course!), was kind of a hot fantasy. I explained. I loved seeing her turned on, immersed in the heat of the moment, moaning and soaking wet. Her explosive orgasms were my favorite part of having sex. Watching one or two of them happen before my eyes, with freedom to focus all of my energy on her and lose myself in her pleasure? It sounded extremely hot to me.

To my surprise, she didn’t say I was weird, run away, break up with me, or text some other guy without telling me. Her response mirrored none stories my anxious mind made up. She wasn’t immediately ready to cuck me, but she didn’t say no. The idea of it actually sounded kind of hot, she said.

Over time, she realized it was more than a passing curiosity of mine. Then, she officially ataşehir escort became intrigued. Soon we began fantasizing in bed together. We showed each other dirty videos and we talked about so many moments: meeting someone and realizing they were right, the first time she touched another man, the moment when she became my hotwife. Fantasizing turned to brass tack planning. Before we knew it, we were backing out of our driveway, on our way to meet our first bull.

The first time I saw Anabel suck cock, I knew I made the right decision. We had decided together that we should start slow. We went to a Lifestyle party planning to do nothing more with strangers than kiss, and keep our clothes on under all circumstances. We kept our promises. Most of our clothes stayed on and Anabel only kissed him on the dick for a few minutes. That’s all it took. The image of her smiling at me through two fresh loads, mine and his, gleaming across her proud face has been forever burnt into my mind.

In the spirit of moving slowly, for a few weeks we didn’t go past that point. But rules are made to be broken. We went to another Lifestyle party a few months later, where she met a muscular bearded guy with a backwards hat, around our age. He was an inch or two shorter than me in height, but his cock was enormous, much wider than mine and an inch longer. He lasted ten minutes while she blew him, licking his balls seductively and working his shaft slowly and confidently. What a difference a little experience made. She swallowed every drop.

Now that her new friend was satisfied, Anabel stopped the show. She made me zip my pants. I was hard as a rock and only seconds from finishing. She told me to save her new friend’s number into her phone. As I recorded Adam’s number, the intoxicating mix of jealousy, pleasure and sexual frustration stirred inside of me. When we got home, we fucked like animals and I finally finished, filling her with everything I had.

It was hot as hell. Still, we hadn’t crossed the threshold of what I consider full-blown cucking: Anabel taking another man’s cock. After what felt like the three-hundredth roleplay about this scenario, Anabel said something I will never forget.

“Baby, I’m ready.”

“For what, baby?” I played dumb, wanting so desperately to hear her say it.

“I’m ready to get fucked. And I want you to watch.”

We downloaded several apps we’d heard about, wanting to gauge interest. At first, there wasn’t much. Our faces were blurred out from all the pictures we posted at first. We were worried about someone outing us. But I decided anyone who saw us on one of these apps would have to explain ataşehir escort bayan why they were there. And Anabel had nothing to hide. She is stunning, graceful and sweet. She could stop a baby from crying and men from fighting just by smiling at them.

One Friday night as we were out for a dinner date, I used Anabel’s phone to take her picture. She wore a low-cut purple dress, tight around the hips with prodigious cleavage. You couldn’t look at the picture and NOT notice her perfect, perky boobs. I navigated to contacts and found the newest one. I sent Adam the photo with the caption, “Oops! Accidentally wore this out with cucky hubby. Do I look nice?”

I noticed there were a few texts previously. I could only take a click glance at them, but they seemed like sexts. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you again,” was the last message from her. We hadn’t discussed playing alone with this particular guy, but the idea of it was hot. I was not mad.

A few minutes later, Adam replied. “What are you doing later?”

I responded. “Adam, this is Anabel’s husband. Come meet us at 88 Ogden St. We are at the booth in the corner and can easily fit a third ;)”

The time between Adam’s arrival and Anabel’s decision to fully submit to him, bent over on our couch, is a blur of moments that far surpassed any preconceived notion. At first, Anabel’s face stayed a persistent shade of embarrassed pink. She didn’t say much to either of us, and especially not him, worried about what everyone was thinking about the girl with two dates. As our first bottle of wine emptied out, Anabel began to enjoy the extra attention.

She turned between us, taking turns laughing, touching and sitting closely with us both. I remember when Adam loosened his nervous grip on his drink and placed his hand on Anabel’s leg. Seeing I was okay with it, he rubbed her shoulders and brushed the hair off her neck. He held her face and they kissed, right there in the booth in the middle of the restaurant. As they finished kissing, she looked at me, making sure I was enjoying myself. She had a guilty expression but it vanished when she saw me. At that moment, I wanted this more than ever.

All three of us were on the same page. Anabel felt the magnetic pull of two men who craved her and suggested we skip dessert. I sat in the front seat of the Uber while Adam and Anabel sat in the back, quietly doing whatever they pleased. When we got hom, I found another bottle of wine and settled into my chair. Adam was already naked standing behind her.

She hadn’t asked, but the look on Anabel’s face told me what I needed to say. She wanted to know. Wanted to be certain. Certain that I really escort ataşehir wanted this.

“Yes, baby. It’s time. Please fuck him.” I said.

Anabel moaned as Adam pushed from behind. His cock raged. This wasn’t his first time fucking someone’s wife, but she was by far the hottest hotwife he’d ever met. Being her first bull was a blessing, and he knew it. The pleasure was about to be all his.

He pressed slowly, his wide cock stretching her more than he’d expected. He knew to take his time. Anabel had a better idea.

“Honey, I am really tight. Can you help me get wet for him?” She

I set down my glass of wine, stood up from the chair, and knelt on the floor next to the couch. Adam stepped back and I moved closer to Anabel. I tasted her. I didn’t think about the fact his tip had already been inside. It didn’t matter. She tasted amazing.

This was everything she needed. The floodgates opened and months of fantasizing about these moments gushed out of her. Within thirty seconds, Anabel was soaking wet.

Adam slid effortlessly into Anabel’s pussy. He felt her wetness around him and pushed deep with little resistance, deeper than anyone had ever been before. As he filled her, she held her mouth to stop from screaming. I pulled it away. I wanted to see and hear everything.

I held Anabel’s hand as she screamed and Adam plowed into her. He put all of his energy into pleasing her, as if it was his. She looked so, beautiful taking his cock, more than I’d ever imagined. I had to stop touching myself because I couldn’t be the first to cum. We all wanted that to be Anabel.

As she got closer to orgasm, I held Anabel’s face with one hand. “I love you, baby,” I said. We kissed while Adam continued fucking her from behind. Then, Anabel had another brilliant idea.

“Baby,” Anabel said. “I want to taste you while he fucks me.”

Fortunately Adam was as close as I was. Within seconds of Anabel putting me in her mouth, I blasted my load into her. I wanted to wait for her pussy but I couldn’t. Not with Adam’s load all over her ass. As I watched him cum on my ex-wife, I realized the reclaim would have to wait. I lost it, cumming the hardest I ever have in Anabel’s mouth, to this day. She didn’t swallow. She smiled at me as she let my cum dribble out of her mouth, all over her chest, leaving herself a cum-covered mess.

Overcome by the hotness of the moment, by how badly I wanted to see Anabel finish, I took one finger and ran it across Anabel’s chest, covering it in my cum. Without a second thought, I rubbed along her ass, mixing my load with Adam’s. Anabel touched her clit while I pushed inside, fingering her with both of the men who craved her. She screamed my name, then his. She had an orgasm of toe-curling, earth-shattering force.

I held Anabel in my arms and kissed her forehead as we drifted off in post-orgasmic bliss. Before we fell asleep, I asked her, “So, do you want to do it again sometime?”

“Yeah, I think Adam will be okay with that.”

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This had me worried. What was next? I felt another belt wrap around my legs and tighten. I was helpless. Naomi got up and I heard them whisper and giggle some more. But this time it sounded a bit more wicked. They both gripped my side and rolled me over onto my back.

I was looking up at Penelope. Naomi had moved back onto the pull-out next to my legs. Penelope slowly started pulling on her panties as she began to speak again. Her pussy looked so good as she pulled her panties down her legs. Clean shaven and tanned — I could tell she had been tanning nude.

“So,” said Penelope “I’ve been to the bathroom a few times today, and I haven’t changed my underwear. I’m telling you this because it means that I’ve left a bit of a shit stain on them. Well, not just a bit. Really what I mean is there is some shit in my panties. And why is this important, you ask? Well, while I do have you tied up, we won’t be going ahead with this last experiment until we have your permission. Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to secure my panties to your face, so my shit is right on your nose. Then, Naomi is going to suck your cock, and get you nice and hard and horny. We want you feeling nice and filthy. And you’ll begin to associate my shit with arousal. Then, and only then, you will allow me to shit in your mouth. No, you are going to beg me to shit in your mouth.”

This could not be happening. I tried to wriggle free but it was no use. I looked over at Naomi, but she was just smiling that wicked smile again. There’s no way I’m going to want to have shit in my mouth. What were they thinking?

“And what if I don’t want it?” I asked desperately.

“Then,” replied Penelope, “we’ll let you go when James gets home. But you’re going to want it. Trust me.”

There was nothing I could do. I guessed I’d just be tied up for a bit with shitty undies on my face till James got home. I could live with that.

Penelope could see the reluctant acceptance on my face. She leant down with the panties in her hands, and I could see the big shit stain she was referring to. It was coming straight toward me and there was nothing I could do. She placed them on my face, ensuring that her shit was right on my nose. She tucked the panty hips behind my ears so they wouldn’t fall off.

I had been holding my breath but then I had to inhale. I took a deep breath and the strong stench of shit hit my nostrils and penetrated my brain. It was so much more than the farts. It was actual shit. On my face. Rubbing on my nose. At that moment, I felt Naomi’s warm lips wrap around my cock. It had softened a little, but immediately started hardening again as she sucked on it. She worked my cock like a pro.

My cock got harder and harder and the stench got stronger. I could see Penelope looking down at me with a grin.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” she said devilishly.

I didn’t respond. I was trying to fight how freaking turned on I was. Naomi twirling her tongue around my cock mixed with the strong smell of shit in my nostrils. I was so horny but I didn’t know what was responsible. Was it both? Was I liking this? Oh no. Was this going to happen?

I couldn’t help it. I reached my tongue out and licked the shit stained underwear. It felt so wrong but my god it felt so good. It tasted amazing and terrible at the same time. It was pungent and tangy but so tantalising. Was this going to happen?

I looked up at Penelope. She knew what was coming. She knew from the beginning. I nodded my ataşehir escort head.

“I want you to say it,” said Penelope. She was toying with me now. I really was her plaything.

“I want it,” I said softly.

“Want what?” asked Penelope, continuing to play with me.

Naomi was playing with my balls now as she slurped on my cock, massaging them softly.

“I want you to shit in my mouth,” I said decidedly.

“Told you,” said Penelope.

“Open your mouth.”

She peeled the panties off my face then got on the pull-out and kneeled over me. Her asshole was right above my face. I opened my mouth, eager to accept the gift she was about to give me. She lowered herself down until she was sitting on my face. My mouth was wide open.

Then it began. I felt her body tighten as she pushed on her asshole. The smell hit me first. It was even stronger than the shit stain. It was intoxicating. It was incredible. My tongue waited in anticipation. Then I felt it. The big turd hit my tongue. I could feel the weight of it as it dropped into my mouth. It was big and solid, and almost filled my mouth.

“Keep your mouth open,” said Penelope. “I’ve got some more for you.”

She pushed again and I felt more weight drop into my mouth. My mouth was full now, and I think Penelope could tell. Naomi continued sucking on my cock and I could feel myself getting close again. Penelope raised herself off my face, then knelt down next to me. She brought her face close to mine. My mouth was still open. Full of her shit.

“Now eat it,” she said in a commanding tone. I didn’t really have an option, and honestly, at this point, I wanted to. I bit down and began to chew on the filth in my mouth. The taste got even stronger but I was loving every minute of it now. She had me. They had me. I continued chewing until the shit was just mush in my mouth. I found myself savouring the flavour.

“Now swallow it”, purred Penelope, “Swallow my shit like a good boy.”

I did what I was told. With one big gulp I swallowed Penelope’s filth. I could feel it sliding down my throat as Naomi continued to fuck my cock with her mouth. I was so close. But at that moment, as soon as I’d swallowed, Naomi stopped. She lifted her face off my throbbing penis and smiled at me.

“Well, I think that concludes this evening’s activities,” said Penelope as she undid the belt buckles fastened around me. “I’m so tired. I want to go to sleep.”

“What? You’re kidding! I am so close! Please let me cum!” I nearly yelled in protest.

“But you already came,” said Penelope. “We promised you an orgasm and you got it.”

I was about to protest further but was interrupted by the sound of my phone buzzing. I reached over and picked it up. There was a message from James. Apparently things with Lauren were not going well and he needed to stay with her for the rest of the weekend.

“No way,” I said in disbelief. Things were not going my way.

“What is it?” asked Naomi curiously.

“James isn’t going to be back for the rest of the weekend,” I replied, sounding disappointed.

“Well, neither are my parents,” said Penelope with a scheming look on her face. “Have you got any other plans?”

The disappointment immediately vanished from my face. A whole weekend with these two beautiful girls would be incredible. My brain was reeling with the thought of even further humiliation, depravity, pain, pleasure and ecstasy. Could I even handle more of this? What was I thinking — Of course I could. This night had pushed me far beyond my limits but I loved every minute of it.

“I guess not,” I replied with a cheeky grin on my face.

“Mmmmm I can’t wait to play with you some more baby,” said Naomi in a sweet voice. “Mommy’s going to take care of you this weekend, don’t you worry.”

“And I’ll make sure we keep finding those boundaries of yours and pushing past them,” said Penelope. “I’ve so loved watching you be a little slut for us. Seeing your denial turn to reluctance, then to acceptance, and finally to complete surrender and pleasure. You’re our toy now, and we’re going to keep using you to please ourselves. But don’t worry, we’ll please you too.”

“You know what else this means?” said Naomi in a slightly excited tone. “It means you can cuddle up with us tonight. You can cuddle mommy’s naked body until you fall asleep, then when you wake up, we can start all over again.”

“Yes please,” I replied, unable to really get any other words out. This balance between a wicked mistress and a motherly taboo had me reeling.

“You hop in the middle baby,” said Naomi, guiding me to lie down on the pull-out. Penelope laid down behind me and Naomi in front of me. We were all on our sides, and I felt Penelope’s arm slink over me as I embraced Naomi’s soft naked torso. I could feel Penelope’s breasts gently pressed into my back as my cock found a home nestled between Naomi’s butt cheeks. I was still very erect though, and I was kind of poking her with it.

“This isn’t going to work,” said Naomi as she wriggled her butt on my cock. “I think we’ll need to soften your penis before we can get to sleep. We don’t want to make a mess though, otherwise we’ll have to sleep in it.”

She paused for a moment.

“I’ve got an idea,” continued Naomi as she reached behind her and took a hold of my manhood. She lined up my cock with her asshole then pushed back on it a little, just enough for the head to slip inside. My god it felt so good. It was so tight and I just wanted to thrust deep into her.

“You can’t fuck me though,” said Naomi as she continued to hold my cock, “and it’s a bit awkward trying to jerk you off from this angle. Can you help me out Penelope?”

Penelope slid her hand down my body, and just as Naomi removed her hand, Penelope replaced it with hers. She then began to slowly work my shaft back and forth while the head of my cock remained in Naomi’s ass. It felt incredible. Naomi’s sphincter tightly hugging my knob while Penelope’s hand moved up and down, bringing me closer and closer to climax.

“Do you like that?” asked Naomi, rhetorically. “Do you like having your cock inside mommy’s asshole? Are you going to cum inside mommy’s ass for me, like a good little boy?”

That was it. The pure taboo of Naomi’s words had tipped me over the edge. I groaned deeply as I exploded inside her asshole, filling her up with my warm cum. Naomi moaned as well – She appeared to be very much enjoying the experience. Penelope continued to jerk my cock until my body relaxed and she knew I was finished. She then gently pulled my cock out of Naomi’s ass, leaving it to go limp between her cheeks.

“Good boy,” said Naomi, “but there’s one more thing you need to do for mommy before we can go to sleep. You see, as much as mommy loves having her good little boy cum in her asshole, she can’t go to sleep like this. So I’m going to need my good little boy to come and suck the cum out of mommy’s ass. Can you do that for me?”

Obviously I had just ejaculated so the thought of sucking my own cum out of Naomi’s ass was not altogether exciting at this very moment. Sensing this, Penelope’s hand had moved down to my testicles and was gripping them firmly.

“You don’t want to disappoint us, do you?” purred Penelope as she continued to grip my balls even tighter. “We just gave you such a nice reward, so now it’s time to return the favour.”

She was right. I was enjoying this give/take relationship we’d entered into this evening, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Especially not with the exciting prospect of the rest of the weekend. I started to shuffle down the bed as Penelope released my balls.

“I don’t think it’s going to work on this angle,” interjected Penelope. “Why don’t you lay on your stomach Naomi? I’ll do the same, then when you’re done sucking the cum from Naomi’s ass you can come over here and lick any last bits of shit from mine.”

Penelope removed the covers and they both turned onto their stomach’s next to each other. What a sight. Too beautiful naked girls laying in front of me, presenting their contrasting but equally sexy asses to me. I draped my body over Naomi’s legs and placed my mouth on her ass.

“Good boy,” said Naomi as she pushed her ass into my face. “Now mommy is going to push a bit, and you might get a few little farts too if you’re lucky. Just make sure to suck hard so you get all the cum out of mommy’s ass.”

“Yes mommy.”

Naomi giggled with glee that I had called her mommy. She began to push on her asshole as I began sucking like a vacuum. One little fart slipped out and a few drops of cum landed in my mouth. Another little fart. A little more cum. Then bam! Naomi let out a huge fart and my big warm load erupted into my mouth. I couldn’t believe it but I could already feel my cock twitching again. This was like a crazy, pleasurable groundhog day where my cock was just going through the same process over and over again. I savoured the cum in my mouth, swishing it around before swallowing it without command. I leant back in and started making out with Naomi’s asshole, as if it were a pair of lips. Naomi moaned in pleasure as I french kissed her tight little hole.

“Mmmmmmm, good boy,” said Naomi. “Now, time to go and lick the shit from Penelope’s asshole.”

I shuffled over and lay down on Penelope’s legs. I grabbed one butt cheek with each hand and parted them slightly so I had clear access to her shit hole. There was quite a bit of filth left there, but I found myself growing more and more excited to taste it again. I plunged my tongue directly into her asshole, cleaning it from the inside. The familiar taste danced on my tongue as I lapped up as much as I could. I then started working outwards, circling my tongue around her hole ensuring to do a good cleaning job for Penelope. I continued eating her asshole until it was spotless, as if this evening had never happened. But god was I glad it did.

“Good boy,” said Penelope. “Now it’s actually time to go to sleep. No funny business this time.”

We all shuffled back onto our sides and resumed our positions, only this time my semi-flacid cock tucked nicely between Naomi’s plump butt cheeks. Naomi pulled the cover up and threw it over us. I felt so warm and safe, my arms around Naomi as Penelope embraced me from behind.

“Goodnight baby,” said Naomi.

“Good night, mommy,” I responded, prompting a satisfied moan from Naomi.

“Goodnight my good little boy,” said Penelope, before leaning in close to whisper in my ear. “Just you wait to see what’s in store for you when you wake up.”

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Cross Contamination part 12: Business and Pleasure

Cassie Harlowe collapsed into a fit of laughter as Peter continued an eerily accurate imitation of Principal Wheaton. She glanced across the lunch table at Kelsey, who was giggling as well, sharing a moment of female solidarity over Peter’s immaturity even as they laughed at his impression.

It had been a good couple of days. Cassie was already feeling less stressed and more confident. She had been a little worried on that dark day last week when Renee strong-armed the entire school into bullying her. It felt at the time like fighting back and escaping Renee’s influence would be impossible. But, just as she hoped, having her two oldest friends in her corner had short-circuited Renee’s plan. It was a lot harder to maintain a united front of mockery against someone with allies, and the rest of the student body seemed to have already gotten bored with the project of sexually humiliating Cassie.

“Wait, Kissy,” said Peter suddenly as if he had just remembered something. Cassie tried not to make a face as he used the nickname that Renee had popularized. She might have her two best friends back, but it seemed like the demeaning middle school nickname had stuck like glue, even with them. “A guy in my math class told me something crazy. He said he saw you streaming online!” continued Peter with an excited grin.

Cassie froze, an icy spike of panic piercing her heart. Shit! Was it possible that someone from the school had seen one of her secret exhibitionist masturbation streams and recognized her? A thousand weak excuses and justifications whirled through her brain. She opened her mouth to try to explain.

“You’ve been streaming on Argus?” asked Peter with an impressed tone, “Playing shooters?”

Oh. Ohhhhh! That streaming. Relief flooded Cassie and she gave Peter a sheepish smile. “That? Oh, I don’t know. I just tried it out for fun. I don’t even know if I’m going to do it again.”

“But you have to!” said Peter seriously, leaning across the table. “He said it was a really good stream, and you were even getting donations!”

“Yeah,” said Cassie lightly with a shrug. But despite her dismissive tone, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Streaming had been pretty fun. And she had made like fifty dollars just chatting with people and playing video games!

“I can picture it now,” said Kelsey with a grin, patting Cassie on the shoulder. “My best friend: internet famous.”

“Stop,” said Cassie with a giggle. Suddenly, Kelsy’s expression clouded over, and Cassie turned to see Renee Cross standing above the table, arms folded beneath her perfect breasts, hip cocked, and a cool, disdainful look on her delicate features.

Just the sight of her sent a complicated squirming combination of hate and arousal spreading through Cassie’s belly.

“Renee,” she said flatly, trying to hide her mixed emotions, “What can I do for you?”

Renee stood silently for a moment with an eyebrow raised before deigning to speak.

“I’ve been informed that, since you received no complaints during your probationary period, I am required to offer you a position on the cheerleading squad,” said Renee in a cold, precisely polite voice.

“I see,” said Cassie, unable to hide a little smirk.

“The position would be conditional on you completing the traditional team initiation,” continued Renee. “As always, you are free to withdraw from the team at any time.” Her tone made Renee’s intention perfectly clear: she expected and wanted Cassie to drop out of the squad.

“I’ll have to consider it,” said Cassie, locking eyes confrontationally with her former friend, “but thank you for letting me know.” Being a cheerleader with Renee Cross as her squad captain sounded like torture at this point, but Cassie didn’t feel like withdrawing and giving Renee the satisfaction right at this moment.

A look of frustrated annoyance crossed Renee’s face. “Fine,” she said huffily, “But get back to me by the end of the week. We need to finalize our plans for the big pep rally.” The gorgeous, catty teen stalked off with her lacky Mel following in her wake.

“Are you going to do it?” asked Kelsey with a concerned frown as soon as Renee was out of earshot.

“What?” asked Cassie, “Withdraw from the squad? Yeah. But I want to make Renee squirm about it a little first.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion. “Really? I was thinking it would be better if you do the initiation.” Cassie’s mouth fell open in bewilderment. Peter wanted her to submit to some mysterious “initiation”? Just for the privilege of joining a cheerleading squad that was ruled with an iron fist by the person she was currently feuding with? It made no sense.

Cassie turned to Kesley, hoping to get her support against Peter’s crazy idea, but instead saw that Kelsey was nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“What?” said Cassie incredulously, looking back and forth between them in disbelief. ‘Renee and I are NOT getting along right now. Why would I want to join Bayan Escort the team she runs?”

“That’s why you should join,” insisted Peter with a serious look on his face. “Right now, everyone in the school is watching what you do. You’re the first person to stand up to Renee in a really long time. If you just quietly quit the squad, everyone will absolutely see it as a weakness.”

“So… what?” said Cassie incredulously, “I should just submit to whatever freaky initiation Renee wants to do to me? That’s sure to end well.”

Kelsy sighed. “I hate to agree with Peter on this, Kissy, but he’s right. I mean, yeah, Renee is going to try to make the initiation unbearable to drive you out. We both know it. But everyone else knows it too! If you pass her biased initiation, it will show everyone that you aren’t scared of her and that you’re willing to go toe-to-toe with her on her home turf.”

Cassie wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t want to spoil her newly repaired friendship with Kelsey and Peter. It had been awkward and strange enough that they had both demanded sexual favors before becoming friends with her again. Luckily, neither had pushed those demands any further in the days since, but the awkward sexual tension was still fresh, and Cassie didn’t want to rock the boat by getting into an argument with them today.

“I’ll think about it,” she said grudgingly, and they turned to lighter topics. By the time the bell rang for the next period, she had forgotten about cheer squad completely.

…

“What’s our current initiation for new cheer girls?” asked Renee thoughtfully as she and Mel returned to their table.

Mel shrugged. “Same as it’s been since you became captain. The girl needs to go topless during her last practice, take a racy photo with the squad, then chug a drink that all the other girls spit in.”

Renee shook her head with a wicked smile. “No, no… I’m afraid that won’t do at all. Everyone on the team has already seen Kissy’s tits, for one… With that ridiculous uniform we gave her, she’s practically naked every practice. No, I think it’s high time we revise the initiation procedure. Kissy will be the first to try out a new, improved, more… intense initiation.”

Mel raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think Kissy is stupid enough to submit to the initiation? She should know by this point that once you start sexually embarrassing her, she’s putty in your hands.” Mel trusted Renee’s abilities, but even for her, it seemed to be a tall order to trick a smart girl like Kissy into such a dumb move.

“She had better,” said Renee grimly, spearing a piece of pineapple with her fork and chewing it savagely. “Convincing her to submit to the cheerleader initiation is one of only two simple jobs I gave the losers who hang out with her. If they want any mercy from me, they have to deliver.”

A cruel smile curled up the ends of Renee’s pillowy lips. “But I’m not concerned. Kissy has shown us time and time again that when she’s horny, all her precious brains practically dribble out of her ears. But…” she pulled out her phone and began drafting a message to another of her pathetic underlings, “It wouldn’t hurt to make sure that she is especially warmed up… just to make the decision a little easier for her.”

…

Gina Harlowe moaned, low and soft in her throat. Her hands tangled in her husband’s hair, pulling him tighter and deeper into the dripping heat between her thighs. His tongue obediently swirled and licked, showing his deep, loving devotion; his commitment to his wife’s pleasure.

It just… wasn’t…quite…enough. Gina struggled to hold back the whine of frustration building inside her, stronger than the moan. Getting eaten out was nice… but there just wasn’t a substitute for feeling the stretch of a big cock filling you up… drilling deep and making you feel the power of the man thrusting into you, pinning you down to the bed with a hot hard spike of pure animal lust.

Gina moaned again, a little louder this time. Her cheeks colored as she realized that the sudden tingle of pleasure that had just shot through was more from fantasizing about Victor’s cock than anything poor Daren was doing. Of course, under normal circumstances, she would tell Daren to just fuck her already and force her big black tormentor temporarily out of her mind with his small, but eager cock. But, annoyingly, at the moment that just wasn’t possible…

Daren rose, his face dripping from his humble service. “Is there anything else I c-can do, honey?” he asked with big puppy dog eyes. Gina’s eyes flicked downward, between Daren’s scrawny thighs. His pale little cock and balls danged there, humiliatingly caged in plastic, pressing tightly but futilely against the chastity device a teenage girl had trapped him in.

It was hard not to immediately make the comparison. Victor’s massive, dominant cock… taking Gina, taunting her, making her drool despite how much she hated the man. And Daren’s disappointing little noodle; squished, Escort submissive, and conquered. Victor would never allow his manhood to be compromised the way her husband’s cock had been. Gina knew it instinctively.

She suddenly felt turned off. Well… that wasn’t true. Not entirely. She still felt a deep sexual frustration that had been slowly building since she had last seen Victor several days ago, But she knew that right now she could get no further with Daren. Not while he was wearing that emasculating device.

“No dear,” she said with a sigh, leaning forward to kiss her husband, then thinking better of it and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’ve done enough tonight.”

She must not have been able to hide her disdainful glance towards Daren’s pitiful crotch, because a look of shame spread across his face. “It’s not f-forever, honey,” he said miserably. “I just need a little time to convince Renee.”

“Or…” said Gina with a ripple of annoyance, turning away from her husband so that he couldn’t see her face as she put her pajama shorts back on, “You could have just refused to put the damn thing back on after you jerked off to me.” She turned to face Daren, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Or hell, you could have even kept the keys Victor gave me! We could be fucking right now if you had put your foot down.”

A courier had appeared at the door that very afternoon after Gina and Daren had their humiliating, revealing encounter, demanding that Daren surrender the chastity cage keys. And, typically for him, he had given up the keys to his cock immediately.

“You… don’t know Renee like I do,” said Daren nervously. “If I try to just rebel all at once like that, she would go nuclear. Don’t worry honey. I’m sure I can convince her to give up on the cage.”

Gina closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let go of her resentment toward her husband. It wasn’t his fault. Well, the Renee thing was, but not Gina’s stress and frustration.

“It’s ok, Daren, said Gina with a sigh, pulling him into a hug, “I know you’re trying your best. I’m just a little stressed out over work.”

Daren looked a little surprised. “Work? I thought you were stressed about…”

Gina’s lips quirked into a wry smile. There were so many ways that Daren could end that sentence.

“… becoming my boss’s sex slave.”

“… spending several days fucking another man.”

“… becoming a helpless, horny submissive to a man you hate.”

It all boiled down to one thing: Victor Cross. The infuriating, dominant, fascinating man that had outplayed her at every turn.

“No,” lied Gina in a firm voice. “I’m not wasting time thinking about… him. You know that right now is a crucial time for me at work. They’re deciding who to promote to partner right now, and, for reasons I still can’t understand, it’s down to me and that worthless idiot Xavier. I didn’t have access to my phone the past few work days and didn’t make it in to the office. I’m going to have to come up with an excellent excuse if I don’t want this to cost me the promotion.”

Daren gave her a sheepish smile, pulling his boxers on to hide his shame. “You don’t need to worry about that, surely,” he said with warm confidence, “You’re hurricane Gina, remember? If this Xavier guy gets in your way, he’ll be sorry. No one gets the best of you.”

Gina smiled back, but her insides were roiling. Just a few short months ago, she would have arrogantly agreed with her husband’s assessment. But recently, there had been one man who had been getting the best of her consistently. Being dominated and defeated again and again by Victor had sapped Gina’s certainty. What if what her infuriating new master said was true, and she really was a “natural submissive” destined to serve dominant men?

Daren knew his wife well enough to recognize the shadow of blended lust and doubt on her face.

“Has he… been in touch?” asked Daren with nervous dread. “Has he asked you to d-do anything else?”

Gina shook her head. “Not yet,” she said flatly. Victor didn’t “ask” her to do anything of course; he commanded. But she didn’t bother to correct Daren’s word choice. It would only make him feel worse. “I haven’t heard from him since he… let me come home,” she finished awkwardly. She and Daren had avoided discussing the exact details of her sleepover at his boss’s house after her forced confession. It had happened, and they had forgiven each other, but that didn’t make the events any less crushing to Daren’s battered ego… or any less shamefully erotic to Gina. Victor had just been so strong… so masculine. Gina considered herself a strong, self-sufficient woman, but Victor had somehow overridden all of that with ease, making her into a weak, submissive girl for him. He had swept aside her faithfulness and marriage vows with contemptuous ease, making her his slut while she was with him for several days. She still didn’t know how she would make that horrible fact up to her poor husband.

And, as humiliating Ankara Eskort as it was to admit, she was anticipating his next commands on some deep, primal level.

“Maybe he got bored now that…” Daren looked away, his face reddening from the shameful arousal of the cuckold fetish he had tried so desperately to hide from his wife, “…Now that he won.”

“Maybe,” said Gina, unable to keep the doubt from her voice. She knew in her heart that Victor Cross wasn’t done with her yet. And whatever he had planned for her next would no doubt be as horribly, corrosively erotic as his last games.

“In any case, I need some rest,” said Gina, giving her husband another chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ll probably be late getting home tomorrow. Lots to catch up on at work.”

“Knock ’em dead, hurricane GIna,’ said Daren, reaching out to cup her face in a warm, soft hand. “Show them who’s boss.”

Gina snuggled beneath the covers, feeling more centered and certain than she had in days. Daren really was a wonderful husband; warm and supportive when she needed him, even after her devastating failure to stay faithful to him. In a lot of ways, she didn’t deserve the man snuggled into bed with her, even if he had been ensnared by a teenage slut.

Daren was right. She might have a particular weakness for Victor, but she was still the same capable woman she had always been. Work was the perfect place to prove that: an arena where she was unquestionably superior.

A place she could get her groove back and show how confident and powerful she could be.

A place without Victor Cross.

…

The following afternoon, Daren closed the door behind him as he got home, kicked off his shoes, and slumped back on the couch with a sigh. For the first time since Gina had come back from Victor’s house, he almost felt normal.

It had been a shocking blow. Gina… his high school sweetheart. The mother of his child. His wife… had fucked Victor Cross. Given him the sweet, forbidden gift of her married pussy. And, based on her filmed confession and her guilty attitude since then, the sex had been mind-blowing. It horrified Daren. Made him jealous and anxious and terrified all at once. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that it also made him horny.

He wished it didn’t. If only he had the strength to be fully appalled. To stick up for himself and fight back against his evil boss. But he had gone too deep already. He had also been sucked into sex games he wasn’t proud of, and the only way out for both of them was to either wait until Renee and Victor got bored, or to somehow subvert their control. At least Gina had an end date: in less than a month, she would be free of her contract from Victor.

Renee had given her “puppy” no such assurances.

Daren felt his phone buzz and knew with a sinking feeling of fear and reluctant arousal that it must be her. It was almost as if thinking about her summoned her.

[Hiiiii puppy! Did you miss me? I was giving you a little time to process after finding out you’re a full-blown cuck, but I need your help with something, so your little break is over.]

Daren frowned down at his screen. He obviously wasn’t thrilled with the “cuck” label, but he knew better than to raise that issue. Besides, he had more important things to worry about right now. Gina was counting on him to convince Renee to at least relax her chastity cage policies a little.

[Mistress, it’s really important that I get a chance to have sex with Gina. After her time at your father’s house, we need to reconnect. Can you unlock my cage for now?]

Daren sent the message with his heart pounding fast. Renee could be unpredictable. If he was lucky, his mistress would be condescendingly sweet about the request. If he was unlucky, she would be furious.

[Puppy, puppy, puppy… we talked about this! I don’t think you’re ready to lose your virginity yet. I want to make sure you’ve improved a whole lot before you try having sex as a real man.]

Daren huffed in frustration. [Again, I’m not a virgin, mistress. I have a daughter for God’s sake!]

The answer that came back made Daren’s brow crinkle in confusion.

[Do you?]

Daren started typing a reply, then deleted it. He stared down at the text again. Renee knew he had a daughter. She had been teasing him over Cassie for a while now. She had an entire scheme to corrupt her. They even apparently knew each other at school. He couldn’t understand what she meant.

Renee replied again without waiting for Daren to respond: [Anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to fuck your wife right now anyway. Not so soon after she got fucked by my dad. Trust me, puppy, you do not want to follow that act. The comparison wouldn’t be flattering. But I’ll tell you what… if you do a particularly good job at the task I have for you today, I’ll consider giving you a hall pass to make sweet love to wifey despite my better judgment. Fair?]

Daren felt a surge of confidence. Somehow, he had managed to negotiate his release with Renee. It would all fall into place from here. He would have a chance to have sex with his wife, reconnect with her, and finally break this sick fascination they had both developed for his boss. All he had to do first was impress Renee…

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Today we follow Foreman, an android employed as a warden and overseer on an asteroid mining operation which utilizes the labor of incarcerated human slaves. Foreman prefers to use chastity to prevent unauthorized pregnancies and to encourage better performance from the slaves under its purview; when it discovers that one of the women has been sexually harassing the men and intentionally causing them distress by teasing them, Foreman must determine how best to discipline her and serve justice to the male slaves. 6k words, very dark content rating.

Content tags/warnings: slavery as part of a criminal justice system; nonhuman protagonist (android) using it/its pronouns; brief mention of nonconsensual sexual harassment/contact (female-on-male) mostly occurring off-page; dubious consent for the primary sexual encounter(s); nonconsensual chastity; some use of misogynist slurs; brief use of a needle for medical purposes (non-sexual)

Many androids found humans difficult to understand. Unpredictable, emotion-driven, with complex social systems that crossed over one another recursively, creating Gordian knots of relationships.

The android designated Foreman enjoyed the challenge.

This was how it had gotten into its line of work: supervising an asteroid mining operation staffed by over a thousand incarcerated human slaves, criminals that had exchanged their legal rights in return for steady work and more comfortable conditions than a standard prison. Slaves were a unique sub-class of human that Foreman found particularly fascinating.

Take, for example, the slave-woman currently seated in Foreman’s office. She was still zipped into the zero-suit she’d been wearing for her shift in the low-gravity mines, and was sneering at Foreman as if she didn’t have the slightest clue why she’d been called off shift.

“S-1475,” Foreman began, and she rolled her eyes.

“I have a name, you stupid fucking machine.”

“I don’t care to know your name,” it informed her. “And I suggest you minimize the back-talk, considering that this is already a disciplinary meeting.”

That, finally, wiped the sneer off of her face, to be replaced with a wary expression. Uncomfortable, perhaps, with the realization that Foreman did indeed understand the mocking vitriol she slung in its direction most days.

This was the benefit in employing androids to oversee slave laborers. Foreman had been one of the first employed in such a way–and there had been quite a debate about it at the time, concerns about whether it was a violation of ethics to have a non-human entity overseeing the wellbeing of humans, even humans that had forfeited most of their legal rights. But in the end, Foreman’s oversight of the Kelleran Asteroid Belt mining operations had been so successful that such employment for androids was widely accepted now.

Even with only a few interested in such a job, a single android possessed enough processing power to oversee hundreds of humans at a time, providing an incredibly high efficiency with incredibly low rates of violent outbursts or property destruction from the slaves.

The problem with a human overseer was that humans knew other humans to be unpredictable, to have weaknesses. Incarcerated slaves under the supervision of human wardens were constantly testing boundaries, looking for ways to get under their guards’ skins, to manipulate them.

They didn’t react the same way to machine oversight. If you tell a human what a machine does, they tend to believe you.

Which meant that Foreman could pretend not to understand passive-aggressive remarks and jokes at its expense without undercutting its own authority. If the slaves were permitted to be rude to Foreman, it turned out, they were less likely to antagonize each other.

Allowing a bit of lateral movement, a controlled release, kept their volatility at a low simmer.

“I didn’t do anything,” S-1475 said sullenly.

“I’ve received complaints,” Foreman stated, and then tapped the flat surface of the desk between them, sending a signal through the bio-metal of its finger to awaken the display so that the text of the three complaints–with names and designations redacted, of course, although S-1475 surely knows which of the other slaves she’s been bothering–spread out under the table interface, refracting through the clear tabletop so that the display appeared right-side-up to both itself and to the slave seated across from it. “You’ve been going into the men’s quarters after hours.”

“There’s no rule against it.”

“True,” Foreman agreed.

In some other facilities, men’s and women’s quarters were kept strictly separated; Foreman found it more expedient to allow them to intermingle at will, and to prevent any unauthorized liaisons–and to encourage good behavior–through the universal employment of custom-fit chastity devices.

It was all about the controlled release.

“But there are, I believe, very clear rules about being disruptive to your colleagues’ enjoyment of their free time.”

“I wasn’t disrupting shit,” S-1475 insisted, Ankara escort bayan folding her arms over her chest.

“It says here,” Foreman stated, selecting one of the statements and highlighting a passage, “that you entered the mens’ quarters naked–“

“How could I be naked?” S-1475 fired back. “Can’t take the belt off, can I?”

“Naked except for your issued chastity belt,” Foreman amended, “and a pair of socks, evidently. I suppose the hallway floor was too cold to go barefoot?” She only glared at him. “And this man goes on to state that you sat uninvited on his bed.”

“I just wanted to talk.” She shrugged. “If he said he didn’t want me there, I would’ve left.”

“Another man reports you touched his thigh without invitation,” Foreman went on, flipping to another statement, another highlighted sentence. “And that when he asked you to stop touching him, you accused him of being a homosexual.”

“Well,” she shrugged again. “I didn’t know why else he wouldn’t want a pretty woman in his bed.”

“I’ve reviewed the security footage, S-1475. I know that you’re aware that it’s uncomfortable, or even painful, for your male colleagues to become aroused in their chastity devices. I know that you’re intentionally tormenting them for your own amusement.” Foreman drummed its fingers, the bio-metal clicking pointedly against the interactive desktop.

The display flipped over to footage of S-1475 strolling through the men’s quarters, sidling up to any man who even glanced in her direction.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” the slave insisted, but her gaze was drawn to the footage, watching as one of the men in the video winced away from her as she slid up close to him, pressing her bare breasts against his back. The light of glee in her eyes was unmistakeable.

“Well.” Foreman tapped the desktop again, turning off the display. “Your criminal profile does indicate sadistic impulses. Is it entertaining to you, that you’re able to so easily incite physical pain? Is it arousing to you? Are you acting out due to sexual frustration? You’ve missed your scheduled incentive releases for all seven months since you’ve joined this facility due to not meeting your quotas.”

“The quotas are fucking impossible,” she muttered, her expression souring.

“And yet, more than 75% of the slaves in this facility manage to meet their quotas every month and earn their supervised release,” Foreman reminded her. “Many even go over quota and are awarded additional luxuries–I’m sure you’ve heard from other women about the array of toys we offer on a point-buy system. Insertables, vibrators, suction toys. Nothing you would have had access to in your previous prison environment, I believe.”

S-1475 scowled at him. The chair under her creaked as she shifted her weight, like she was trying not to let on that she was squirming in her seat.

Foreman tilted the featureless mask that occupied the spot above its shoulders where a human’s head would be. “It must be quite difficult to hear about those things when you haven’t even earned enough quota points to be permitted to use your own hand. Is that why you’re antagonizing the men? You want to see others suffering the way you are? Or does their pain simply excite you?”

“I don’t see how it’s my problem if they can’t control their dicks,” she snapped.

“I see.” Foreman tilted its head the other direction, then rose smoothly to a standing position. “Then I suppose I will make it your problem.”

***

It was an unusual approach to discipline, but this was a somewhat unusual situation.

First, Foreman escorted S-1475 to the medical wing, where it took possession of one of the private rooms typically set aside for long-term stays.

There, it directed her to use the restroom, and then handed her a douche and instructed her to flush out her rectum, and to not bother re-dressing in her clothing afterwards.

S-1475 became furious at this, and tried to argue back. Foreman was implacable, and she knew better than to directly defy it. When it asked whether she needed its help completing the task, she finally disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door in its face.

Ten minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, her face flushed in a mix of humiliation and anger.

Foreman directed S-1475 to lie down on the hospital bed in the room then. Specialized restraints were already conveniently available, typically used for uncooperative patients, as slaves could sometimes be; they offered a variety of configurations, to allow for broken bones, burns, and other such considerations.

It was a simple enough matter to cuff the woman’s ankles to the side of the bed, up near her hips, such that her knees were forced to bend and her legs were kept spread. Her wrists, likewise, were cuffed to the sides of the bed above her head.

Then Foreman tapped the high-tech chastity belt sealed around her waist, unlocking it with a brief electrical signal, and exposed her sex for the first time in months.

There were many Escort Bayan Ankara different ways, Foreman had discovered, that a human might respond to extended chastity–and to being released from it. Some were indifferent, whether due to low sex drives or any number of other reasons; others might appear physically unchallenged, but would betray the urgency of their need in their attitudes, impatient and snappish. Many were hyper-sensitive, growing hard or wet at just the sensation of open air on their genitals, if not at the mere idea of being unlocked from their metal prisons.

Some number of women–and the men, too–displayed an excessively submissive response. There were a few high-performers who maintain their numbers only, Foreman knew, because they received personal attention from Foreman itself in return, providing direct oversight and even manual assistance with their monthly rewards.

S-1475 did not display the traits of an inherently submissive woman, but nor was she unaffected.

Her thigh and stomach muscles contracted and twitched convulsively as Foreman removed the belt, evidence that she wanted to hump her hips but was holding back. When Foreman dipped its featureless head to examine her genitals, she bared her teeth down at it like a wild animal.

When it pulled on a pair of gloves over its malleable metal fingers and spread the thick lips of her labia majora, she growled.

“Just performing a quick health check while you’re here,” it informed her. “Two birds with one stone and all that. This way you won’t be due for another year.”

“You’re not a fucking doctor.”

“I have the equivalent medical knowledge and am certified to perform basic sexual health examinations for enslaved persons,” it stated, and then ran its fingers along the inside of her labia. “Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?”

“No,” she snarled through grit teeth.

Its gloved fingers came away damp.

With the cursory inspection complete, Foreman changed gloves and retrieved a large pump canister of lube out of one of the storage cabinets.

“This will be cold,” it warned her. “I would warm it up, but without a natural human body temperature it’s a bit of a hassle for me, and frankly, your comfort is not really the point of this particular exercise.”

S-1475 rolled her eyes, and then bit her lip on a yelp when Foreman pressed one finger, slick and cold with lube, into her anus. “What–what the fuck are you–“

“Preparing you for potential anal penetration,” Foreman informed her, slipping the finger in and out, massaging her muscles.

“Fucking pervert!”

“It’s arguably impossible for me to be a pervert, being that I’m not a biological organism and don’t experience the urge to have sex,” Foreman mused. As it felt the tight clasp of her body begin to loosen, it added a second finger, more lube. “But the counter-argument would be that, by that standard, it could be considered a perversion for me to enjoy sexual activity at all, and I can’t deny that I’ve found a type of satisfaction in some sexual encounters I’ve had in the past. This, however, is not for my satisfaction, S-1475. It is for your safety and comfort.”

“You’re going to fuck me in the ass for my safety and comfort?” she demanded, her voice raising.

Maybe she hoped that the medic in the next room would hear and intervene. She may not have understood that Foreman was the one who hired the medic, who cut his monthly paycheck. Although Foreman’s mining operation was technically still a subsidiary of the company that created it, Foreman had been running the station without any direct human oversight for almost a century by this point.

“I am not going to be the one fucking you in the ass,” it advised her. “I’m preparing you in case someone else chooses to do so.”

“What do you mean?” S-1475 snapped. “Sex slaves are illegal, you can’t make me–“

“Sexual intercourse between two enslaved humans is not legally considered sexual use of a slave,” Foreman stated, and realization finally dawned.

Her mouth dropped open in a stunned expression.

Foreman worked a third finger into her anus, sliding in and out until it can move freely. Her sex was even wetter now. When Foreman pulled its fingers free, her labia twitched, her clitoris bobbing in its hood.

Foreman replaced its fingers with a steel plug. This was cold as well, and she grunted in complaint.

“This will keep you from tightening up,” it said. “I’ve lined up three of your targets–the ones that came to me with their complaints–but I’ve also put out a general notice, inviting anyone else who feels victimized by you to come forward in the meantime, so you may be in here for a while. I certainly won’t risk any lasting physical damage to your body.”

“You really think they’ll fuck my ass when my pussy is right there?” she demanded. “None of these men have had pussy in years. You won’t be able to stop them.”

“I won’t be trying to stop them from doing anything. They are certainly welcome to penetrate Bayan Escort Ankara you vaginally if they wish,” said Foreman

Her sex twitched again, and her pupils dilated.

“One more item of preparation,” it said, and changed its gloves a final time before grabbing a needle which it promptly injected into S-1475’s thigh, ignoring her squawk of pain. “A contraceptive. Of course, I’ll review the medical history of any candidates, and will ensure you’re not exposed to any communicable diseases.”

“This is still…” S-1475 hesitated, licking her lips. “You can’t…this can’t be legal.”

Foreman dropped the used needle into the sharps container and stripped its gloves a final time, but turned its featureless face towards her, tilting its head in a posture that many humans read as open and welcoming. “We can certainly pause here and bring in an incarceration slave advocate, if you’d like to review your legal protections in this situation.”

S-1475 stared at it. Her fingers tightened a bit on the edges of the thin medical mattress.

Her sex twitched again, a bead of moisture gathering between the plump lips of her labia.

“No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “It’s fine.”

Foreman nodded. “If you need to check in at any time, just call for me,” it said, and then it closed the curtain around her bed, providing the illusion of privacy, before leaving the room.

The three men were waiting in an uncomfortable line outside, eyes mostly on their own feet. They all must have had some idea of why they’re there, Foreman was certain, because they all delivered their complaints around the same time, indicating a coordinated action; but they hesitated to look one another in the face, to acknowledge what was happening.

“S-1392. S-1356. S-1438,” it greeted the men in turn. “I want to thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Since you’re all present here now, I assume you’re willing to assist in disciplinary action for S-1475, and I thank you for that as well. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“Is she in there?” S-1438 blurted. His eyes were flicking rapidly between Foreman and the door behind it.

“Yes. I’ve prepared her for you, as laid out in the message you all should have received.”

“And we can really–” S-1438 hesitated and rubbed at his arm. He was a newer addition to the station, in his twenties, and, like S-1475, hadn’t yet been able to meet the numbers needed to earn a release; he was practically quivering in place with nervous energy. “We can–we can do whatever we want? With her?”

“Yes, anything that won’t cause lasting damage. Although I don’t advise trying to force her to perform oral sex for you, as I can’t ensure she won’t bite.”

His eyes widened at the words oral sex, one hand bunching in the loose, common-issue sweatpants he wore. His gaze flicked anxiously to the other two men standing silently beside him. “Can I–fuck, I don’t think I can wait, guys–“

“Yeah,” one of the older men said, looking amused. “You can have her first, kid.”

The other nodded his assent, too, and S-1438 looked to Foreman again, then stumbled forward when Foreman opened the door and gestured him on.

He barely waited for the door to click shut before he began fumbling to pull his sweatpants down. Foreman was unsurprised to see that his cock was already swollen as much as the restricting cage allowed, leaking steadily from the tip.

Foreman unlocked the cage with a brief touch.

S-1438 sucked in a breath through his teeth, his knees wobbling as his cock bobbed and then began to rapidly fill the rest of the way, growing fully hard for the first time in months. “Fuck. Fuck. I–where is she? In there?”

“Through the curtain,” Foreman confirmed, and S-1438 rushed past him, hobbling a bit with his pants dangling around his knees, one hand curled carefully around his cock to keep it from bouncing around without touching too firmly. He left the curtain half-open behind himself, so Foreman tugged it closed, not that it really mattered much; the android was the only other person in the room, and it still had a full view of the events the other side via the security cameras.

S-1475’s face soured when she saw the young man scrambling onto her bed. “Ugh. You? Really? He couldn’t have sent in someone with–mmf,” she grunted in outrage when S-1438 covered her mouth with his palm.

“Just shut up a minute. Just for one minute, would you, you mean–fucking–oh Jesus,” he gasped breathlessly as he nudged the head of his cock into her waiting vaginal opening. “Fuck, I’m gonna, wait–“

He slammed into her in one quick, urgent thrust.

S-1475 squealed into his hand, followed by a long moan as he rolled his hips and ground deep inside her in vicious little rutting motions.

From the trembling of his thighs and the stream of curses that fell out of his mouth, it was evident that he had already started to climax as soon as he’d entered her. Even so, it took a solid thirty seconds for him to finish, his overfull testicles divesting themselves in long, slow pulses of the stored semen. He remained deep inside S-1475 for the entire event, his body hitching and curling up like a mating animal’s, as if he were determined to seed himself as closely to her uterus as possible, to deliver to her all of the sperm his body had earmarked for her with her torturous teasing.

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Morning arrived and I couldn’t quite place the strange sensation I was feeling. It took me a few moments before I identified the sensation as a morning hard-on. The combination of having a plug in me with being uncaged was giving me the freedom to be physically aroused. It felt kind of strange that the occurrence was now so rare as to be surprising.

I was almost afraid of it. The arousal felt good, but dangerous. It felt almost like disobedience even though I couldn’t control it. I got up and relieved myself, grateful that the temptation to touch faded as I softened. I took a quick shower, feeling my squeeze at the heavy steel plug inside me.

I dressed quickly. My morning outfit felt temporary, as I knew I’d be removing it to at least change what I wore beneath it as soon as Cheryl pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t quite accurate to say that I looked forward to that moment each morning, as I truly did love starting the day with my wife, but I knew that my day was only truly beginning once I started to feel the desires of Liam expressed upon me.

It was only when Cheryl was late coming down to breakfast that I remembered that she’d been on the phone with Lydia late, and that I had no idea how long she’d been up. I wondered for a while if I was going to have to wake her but then she came downstairs on her own. There was a wide smile on her face which only grew wider when she saw me take in her appearance.

Inspired by our conversation the night before, she had put together an outfit for work that could best be described as devastating. Her skirt barely reached her knees but it clung to her so tightly that I imagined I could see the line of the tops of her stockings right through it. Her blouse was a cream-silk and it was open low enough to just tease the eye with glimpses of the lace trimmed bra that was pushing her breasts high and together.

“You are not kidding around today, are you?” I asked.

“Taking no prisoners,” he answered with a laugh.

I tried not to stare as we shared breakfast, but it was a challenge. Her cleavage had always been impressive and displayed as it was, it was a significant distraction. We shared a warm kiss as she left, but I was careful not to press too close and wrinkle her perfect outfit.

Once her car pulled away, I once again made my way downstairs to select panties, a bra and stockings for my day. I was coming to realise just how significant it was that the requirement to wear a bra had been added, especially a bra filled with large, jiggling breast forms. There were some of my shirts that I just couldn’t wear, and if I kept pulling my t-shirts over my new tits, they would begin to stretch permanently.

A loose t-shirt had to suffice for now, so I got myself put together and went up to my office to tend to emails, comments and the incoming images sent from Liam. I had barely gotten started when Liam called me. It made me tingle a bit each time I saw his name on my phone’s call display.

“Hello Master,” I said.

“Good morning, Crissy. I just got a message from Ashley at the Toy Store, and she said that she’s had someone call in sick and wondered if you could fill in. I told her that you’d be happy to. I’m afraid I’m swamped today, so you’ll have to drive yourself over there. You can dress simply as she said she’ll choose the outfit for you Ankara escort to work in.”

“Yes, Master,” I said. “Crissy is happy to help.”

“I knew you would be. I’d also like to make sure that it is a successful and busy day for the store when you’re there, so I’d like you to post on your OnlyFans site and on Twitter that you’ll suck the cock of any of your fans that come visit and spend over $200.”

I took a deep breath.

“Yes Master, I will post that right away.”

“Good girl, Crissy. Make sure you’re there by 11:00.”

There was a little time to kill, but not much. I composed an announcement that had all the details that Liam wanted included: that once again I would be working at the shop and available for use for anyone who spent the minimum amount. I wondered as I typed if it would be more or less humiliating to be paid the cash for sucking cocks, or to be offered as a free bonus as Liam wished.

I posted on twitter and on my OnlyFans site. I made sure to add to the more public announcement that photos after would only be up on the pay site, to try to encourage more and more people to join and witness my depravity. I was just about to pack up and go when a reply came in that caught my eye.

“What about your female fans with no cock to suck? What do we get?”

The request was from one of my paid followers, so I judged that it was worth answering, even though I wasn’t sure of the right answer.

“There are strap-on dildos you could wear for sucking, or I will ask my Master if my giving oral sex would be permitted, if you prefer.”

I signed off and sent the question to Liam, but after that it was really time for me to leave if I was going to be sure to be there on time. I felt silly wearing the bra and breasts under my t-shirt, but I doubted that anyone would notice me as I drove. I parked my car as close as I could to the store and rushed in, as even the jacket I had pulled on over my shirt was only doing so much to hide my jiggling silicone tits. It was only 10:45 when I arrived, so I had to knock on the locked door to get Ashley’s attention. Every moment spent waiting there felt like a torment.

“Oh look at you!” she smiled as she let me in. “Almost normal on the outside but sissy underneath. Come on back, I’ve got your work outfit ready.”

I followed her in and into the store’s back room. We were alone in the store, so she didn’t bother closing the door behind us.

“You can strip, Crissy,” she said.

I obeyed, removing my jacket, shirt and pants, until I stood there before in just the lingerie and stockings.

“No, take it all off, Crissy. We’re starting fresh.”

I felt embarrassed for a moment, but then I just continued, removing everything and placing it in a pile, leaving only the plug inside me.

“Good. Now, this might be a bit tricky but I’ll help you,” she said.

She approached me with something that looked halfway between a pair of breasts and a cropped shirt.

“This is a silicone breastplate, Crissy. A lot of drag queens wear them, and they will give you nice big breasts without having to stuff a bra. We will just have to stretch it over you. I’ve already powdered the inside.”

I raised my arms and she pulled it down over them and then used her hands to stretch the neck of it over my Escort Ankara head. The silicone was thin enough that it pulled on easily but still retracted to fig me snugly. Once she was done adjusting it in place she had me look in a mirror. The silicone second skin extended right up my neck. My arms poked out of the arm openings like a vest, and it continued down to the middle of my torso. Of course the main feature was that I now had immense silicone breasts on my chest, complete with stiff nipples. They bounced and jiggled with every moment.

“Oh Crissy, you look so perfectly slutty!” Ashley exclaimed. “Now, let’s get the rest on you.”

She started with a chastity device, but one more devious than I had seen before. She fitted the steel ring around my cock and balls, noticing how smooth I was, and then added a little belt around my body to hold it high and snug. The cage part of it was next, but it was so small that it essentially reduced the size of me to a tiny fleshy nub behind a half sphere made of steel bars. Next was a garter belt and a pair of fishnet stockings, and then a tiny pleated mini skirt that was short enough to leave a strip of bare flesh between it and the stocking tops.

She then fitted a leather vest onto me. The bottom of it laced around my belly tightly like a corset but then just opened up to display my new cleavage. It didn’t even quite cover my nipples. Time was getting on, so she quickly fitted me with a long blond wig, false eyelashes, eye liner and a glossy, plumping lipstick. Once she locked a leather collar around my neck and locked me into a pair of stiletto heels, she pronounced me ready to work.

I followed her out, trying to walk gracefully on the heels, and watched as she unlocked the front door. Within minutes, there were customers arriving. At first, at least, it seemed like not all of them were there for me but even so, Ashley sent me over to check on them as she staffed the register. I did my best to answer their questions and to point out the areas for them to find whatever they asked about.

The store got busier and busier and it had been open about a half an hour when I heard Ashely call me over from across the store.

“We have our first qualifier!” she yelled, gleefully.

I blushed as I walked over to the cash desk where she was waiting for me with a man who looked both eager and nervous, carrying his black plastic bag of purchases in his hand.

“Hello, Crissy. It’s very nice to meet you in person,” he said almost sweetly.

“It is very nice to meet you too, Sir,” I replied. “Would you like your reward for your purchases today?”

“Yes, please, I mean yes I would,” he stammered.

I smiled and got down onto my knees right there. He put his bag down on the counter and started to fish in his pockets for his phone. I loosened his belt and opened his pants, and carefully guided his cock out. I wrapped my hand around him and gave him a quick couple strokes and then pursed my lips to kiss the head. I looked up at him and saw his smiling face and his phone pointed at me, no doubt recording everything.

My silicone tits jiggled as I stroked him and sucked him and got my head bobbing around his growing erection. I mostly kept my eyes up at him, but I also managed to notice a bit of crowd gathering around Escort Bayan us. The new cage was so small and made me ache with fresh torment as I found myself getting aroused. I squeezed the plug with my ass and moaned and slurped around him. I didn’t even know his name.

I felt him start to tense and so I stroked and sucked with increased fervour until I urged his orgasm from him. I moaned as he came and he filled my mouth with his warm cum. I milked him through his spurts and then slid back just enough so that he could see my mouth full of his load before I swallowed it all down. I felt the slippery cum slide all the way down my throat, and then I licked him clean and kisses his cock head one more time.

“Mmm, thank you, Sir,” I purred to him and to his camera.

“Oh fuck, Crissy, thank you,” he said, and then tucked himself away.

Ashley helped me back up to my feet with a smile.

“Good job, Crissy. I’ll call you for the next one.”

I returned to tending the store and helping the customers how I could. It was only a few minutes later when a couple of younger men came up to me.

“Excuse me,” one of them said, “but did you just blow that guy?”

“Yes, Sir, I did,” I said, blushing.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get that kind of customer service?” his friend asked.

“It’s a special event today,” I said. “I’ve been instructed to suck the cock of any customer who spends at least $200 in the store today.”

“No fucking way,” he exclaimed.

“How much stuff you got?” his friend asked, turning to him.

“Not that much yet, but I will in a second. Come with me,” he said.

I dutifully followed along behind them, struggling to keep up with their pace on heels, especially with the jiggling weight of my breasts on my chest. The leading one was just pulling things off the shelves as he walked. I waited there behind him as a grinning Ashley rang up his purchases, congratulating him as he passed the required threshold.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said eagerly, turning right towards me.

Once more I slid down to my knees. By the time I looked back up at him he already had his cock out and in his hand, pushing it towards me. I opened wide and felt him ram his erection into me. I sucked him in and sealed my lips around him, trying to work to please him with my tongue and with the suction, but he seemed to be getting most of his enjoyment from fucking my mouth deep and hard and fast.

I opened as wide as I could, swallowing to avoid gagging, and he just kept pushing deeper and deeper until I felt him entering my throat. I sputtered and slurped and drooled, gasping what breath I could. I felt him getting closer and closer to eruption. When he felt it too, he pulled back, leaving my mouth open and gasping, drool falling from my lips. He just held his cock and pointed it at my open mouth and exploded with cum.

He got perhaps half of his load in my mouth and the rest was splattered over my face. I felt the warmth of it oozing over me. He released an impressive amount into me and onto me, leaving me a dripping mess by the time he was finished.

“Worth every dollar,” he proclaimed to himself, then he gathered up his purchases and his friend and he was gone.

Ashley helped me up, but not before taking some photos of my cum-covered face.

“You can take five and get yourself cleaned up,” she said. “Then come back and I’ll refresh your lipstick. Don’t take too long though, there are plenty of customers with their eyes on you.”

I felt the cum oozing and drying on me as I retreated to the back room. I could tell it was going to be a long day.

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Wie immer gilt: Alles entstammt der Fantasie und alle Charaktere sind zum Zeitpunkt der Geschichte über 18 Jahre alt, sowie frei erfunden.

Dies ist kein Realitätsbericht, sondern soll zur Unterhaltung des Lesers beitragen.

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

Hi ich bin Stella, 18 Jahre alt und das hübscheste Mädchen der Stadt, doch in meinem Leben gibt es ein großes Problem: Meine Geburt! Geboren wurde ich nämlich als Sebastian.

Um alles zu erklären, muss ich weit zurück in die Vergangenheit.

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Kapitel 1 — Ich bin kein Junge

Schon lange bevor ich den Unterschied zwischen Jungen und Mädchen kannte, hätte auffallen können, dass an mir etwas anders war. Ich hatte zwar, wie jeder Junge Autos und Spielzeug-Soldaten. Aber irgendwie, fand ich es schon immer schöner, mit meiner Schwester und ihren Puppen zu spielen.

Irgendwann habe ich Jana, die zwei Jahre älter ist als ich, das erste Mal bewusst nackt gesehen. Ich ging, auf dem Weg in mein Zimmer an ihrem vorbei, während sie sich grade umzog und vergessen hatte, ihre Tür zu schließen, weil sie in Eile war. Wie gebannt sah ich auf ihren Schritt. „Was ist? Noch nie ´ne Mumu gesehen?”, fragte sie. Heute benutzt sie natürlich andere Worte, aber wir waren Kinder. Ich schüttelte den Kopf und ging einfach so auf sie zu.

„Die ist schön. Warum hab ich sowas nicht?”, fragte ich voller Interesse, doch ich fühlte mich auch ein wenig traurig, ohne erklären zu können wieso. Ich zog, einfach meine Hose runter und zeigte auf meinen Schritt. „Das ist hässlich, aber bei dir ist das schön, sowas will ich auch haben!”, kam es energisch von mir.

Meine Schwester, die schon in den ersten Grundzügen aufgeklärt war, wie dass mit dem Unterschied zwischen Mädchen und Jungen ist, lachte und antwortete mir: „Das geht doch nicht. Ich bin ein Mädchen und Mädchen haben eine Mumu.

Du bist ein Junge und ihr habt nun mal einen Pipimann. Ich habe das zwar noch nicht ganz verstanden, aber Mama hat mal gesagt, dass dieser Unterschied sehr wichtig ist, besonders wenn man älter ist. Mehr weiß ich auch noch nicht.”

„Aha”, war alles was ich darauf sagte, dann ging ich ohne ein weiteres Wort in mein Zimmer, nachdem ich meine Hose wieder anzog.

Dort stellte ich mich vor meinen Spiegel, zog die Hose wieder aus, besah meinen „Pipimann”, fasste ihn auch an und zum ersten Mal fragte ich mich: „Warum kann ich denn kein Mädchen sein?”

Später nahm ich all meinen Mut zusammen und ging zu meiner Mutter. Vielleicht wäre ein Vater besser gewesen, aber den kannte ich nicht. Ich wusste nicht, was es hieß, einen Papa zu haben.

Heute weiß ich, dass er meine Mutter bei Nacht und Nebel verließ, als er erfuhr, dass sie zum dritten Mal schwanger war. Er wollte kein weiteres Kind mehr und weil sie sich weigerte, es wegmachen zu lassen, hat das Schwein die Flucht ergriffen. Bis heute hat niemand mehr etwas von ihm gehört oder gesehen, außer dem monatlichen Grundunterhalt auf dem Konto meiner Mutter. Selbst das hätte es nicht gebraucht, denn wir hatten genug Geld aus Mamas Erbe. Es legt von uns auch niemand Wert darauf, ihn zu sehen.

„Mama, warum haben Jungs einen Pipimann und Mädchen eine Mumu? Und wer entscheidet eigentlich ob man ein Junge oder ein Mädchen ist?”, fragte ich nervös.

„Das entscheidet die Natur Liebling, wenn ein Kind gezeugt wird, dann sagen ganz viele kleine Signale, ob das Baby ein Junge oder ein Mädchen wird. Wie sowas passiert und warum Jungs und Mädchen unten am Körper anders aussehen, werde ich dir gerne erklären und wenn du etwas nicht verstehst, hab keine Angst zu fragen. Wir haben sogar ein Buch mit Bildern, in dem ich dir alles zeigen kann.”

Wir Kinder hatten ein verdammtes Glück, dass unsere Mutter eine rational denkende Frau ist. Manche Mütter wären in diesem Fall mit so Dingen gekommen wie: „Das hat der liebe Gott so gewollt!” oder „Das erzähl ich dir, wenn du älter bist!”

Unsere Mutter war nie religiös, was auch erklärt, warum niemand von uns getauft ist und sie war immer der Ansicht, dass nicht das Alter darüber entscheidet, wann die Zeit ist, ihre Kinder aufzuklären, sondern die Bereitschaft der Kinder, etwas zu lernen. Daher wartete sie bei jedem von uns, bis wir mit einer solchen Frage zu ihr kamen. Sie kam nicht einfach zu uns und meinte: „So, jetzt erzähl ich dir, wo die Kinder herkommen!”

Wenn die Fragen dann kamen, ließ sie alles andere stehen und liegen und widmete sich ganz ihrem Kind. Doch auch immer nur soweit wie wir dazu bereit waren.

So wie auch im besagtem Moment.

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

Während der nächsten Jahre hatte ich versucht, mich mit meiner Rolle, welche die Natur mir gab abzufinden.

Nicht immer fiel mir das leicht. Immer wieder fragte ich mich, warum meine Schwester und andere Mädchen so schöne Kleidchen tragen durften, ich aber immer Hosen und so anziehen musste. Ich traute mich aber nicht nochmal zu fragen, warum das so war.

Immerhin wusste ich ja, warum es so viele Unterschiede zwischen Ankara escort Jungen und Mädchen gibt und Punkt.

Richtig komisch wurde es in der Pubertät.

Steif wurde mein Glied schon so lange ich denken kann, wenn ich mal ganz dringend Pipi musste. Aber mit der Zeit passierte es immer öfter von alleine und irgendwann fing es an, in meinen Hoden weh zu tun. Ich hatte Angst, dass ich vielleicht krank bin. Ich war halt sehr naiv für mein Alter. Darum fragte ich auch in diesem Fall Mama, als wir alleine waren, was das zu bedeuten hat.

Sie versuchte ein Lachen zu unterdrücken und erklärte mir: „Nein mein kleiner Prinz, du bist nicht krank. Fühl mal vorsichtig deine Hoden, fühlen die sich größer an als sonst?”

Ich fasste mir, vor ihr in die Hose, fühlte und nickte dann.

„Das ist nichts schlimmes, sondern etwas sehr Schönes, mein Junge. Denn das ist ein Zeichen, dass du langsam ein Mann wirst. Deine Hoden haben begonnen Samen zu produzieren und manchmal, wenn es zu viel wird, kann das einem Jungen wehtun. Aber es gibt etwas, was man dagegen tun kann.”

Ich war erleichtert. „Ja? Dann mach es bitte.”

Jetzt lachte Mama doch. „Nein mein Spatz, selbst wenn ich es wollte, aber das kann ich nicht machen. So etwas musst du selber machen. Aber ich kann dir erklären, was du tun musst, damit du dir dabei nicht wehtust.”

Sie räusperte sich und sprach weiter, aber etwas leiser: „Du gehst jetzt rauf in dein Zimmer und nimmst aus dem Badezimmer ein Handtuch mit. Schließ deine Tür ab, damit keiner deiner Geschwister reinplatzt, wenn jemand von ihnen nach Hause kommt, denn was du dort tuen sollst, ist nur für dich bestimmt.

Zieh dich ganz aus, lege dich nackt auf dein Bett und das Handtuch auf deinen Bauch.

Wenn dein Glied noch weich ist, dann streichele es ein bisschen und denke dabei an schöne Dinge, zum Beispiel an ein Mädchen, das du sehr gerne magst. Dann wird es wieder ganz hart und wenn du das geschafft hast, dann nimmst du dein Glied in die Hand, aber nicht zu fest. Schiebe dann deine Vorhaut so, langsam rauf und runter.”

Dabei machte sie eine Auf und Ab Bewegung mit der Hand, die sie so hielt, als würde sie etwas umfassen.

„Mit der Zeit wirst du merken, dass du dabei ein komisches, aber auch schönes Gefühl bekommst und du hast vielleicht auch den Wunsch, schneller mit der Hand zu werden. Mach das ruhig! Es wird immer schöner für dich werden, glaub es mir. Wenn du damit fertig bist und du wirst schon von alleine erfahren wann das ist, wirf das Handtuch einfach in die Wäsche, wasch deine Hände und komm wieder zu mir.”

Ich war verwirrt, verstand nicht ganz, was das alles sollte, aber wenn es mir helfen würde, dann wollte ich machen was Mama sagte.

Ich tat alles so, wie sie es mir erklärte und tatsächlich, die Gefühle waren irre. Als würden sich alle meine Sinne nur auf diesen Punkt meines Körpers konzentrieren. Laut stöhnte ich, irgendwie konnte ich nicht anders. Meine Hand wurde von alleine immer schneller und irgendwann hatte ich das Gefühl, dass sich mein ganzer Körper zusammenkrampft, doch ich konnte nicht aufhören meinen Penis zu reiben.

Ohne dass ich etwas dafür konnte, musste ich plötzlich schreien und ich fühlte, wie etwas aus meinem Penis, mit ganz viel Druck rauskam.

Als ich die Augen wieder öffnete, dachte ich erst, dass ich dabei ins Bett gemacht hätte, doch auf dem Handtuch und über meine Hand, die noch immer meinen Penis hielt, verteilte sich eine zähe weiße Flüssigkeit . Es sah witzig aus, roch interessant und ich war so neugierig darauf, dass ich es mir an meiner Hand, nicht nur aus der Nähe betrachten, sondern auch mit der Zunge probieren musste.

Der Geschmack war zwar etwas salzig, aber nicht unangenehm. Ich mochte es sogar sehr.

Nun tat ich noch das, was Mama weiter sagte. Das Handtuch kam, vollgeschmiert in die Wäschetonne, dann wusch ich meine Hände und ging zu ihr zurück.

„Geht es dir besser mein Prinz?”, fragte sie.

„Ja Mama, ich habe alles so gemacht wie du gesagt hast und dann …”, begann ich euphorisch zu erzählen, doch sie legte den Finger auf die Lippen und brachte mich so zum Schweigen.

„Ich weiß, ich habe dich bis hier unten gehört. Beim nächsten Mal versuche in ein Kissen zu schreien oder so. Was da passiert ist, nennt man Orgasmus, du hattest dabei deinen ersten bewussten Samenerguss und was du getan hast, nennt man Selbstbefriedigung. Ich sage deshalb bewusst, weil sowas euch Jungs auch manchmal im Schlaf passieren kann, ohne dass ihr etwas davon merkt. Jeder der alt genug dafür ist, macht es sich selber, wie man es auch nennt. Aber, es ist etwas sehr privates und man sollte nicht zu viel darüber reden. Mach es so oft es dir gefällt, aber immer in deinem Zimmer oder im Bad, wenn du alleine bist und abgeschlossen hast. Also nicht vor mir, deinen Geschwistern oder in der Schule, okay?”

Ich nickte und das stellte sie zufrieden. „Warum wird er aber einfach so steif, ohne dass ich ihn streichele, Mama?”, fragte ich wissbegierig.

„Bei Escort Ankara Jungs kann sowas immer mal so passieren, aber vor allem, wenn sie ein Mädchen sehen, das ihnen sehr gut gefällt.”

Das reichte mir auch fürs erste. Nur das mit den Mädchen kam mir noch öfter ins Gedächtnis. Denn mir fiel auf, dass es mir auch bei Jungs passierte und immer bekam ich so ein eigenartiges Gefühl im Bauch, wenn ich merkte, dass ich ein Mädchen oder einen Jungen wirklich sehr mochte.

Erst viel später wurde mir richtig bewusst, dass Mama etwas getan hatte, was nun wirklich nicht selbstverständlich ist.

Ich denke zu mindestens nicht, dass es viele Mütter gibt, die sinngemäß sagen: „Junge, geh dir einen wichsen und ich erklär dir eben schnell wie das geht!”

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Im Laufe der Jahre jedoch, veränderte sich mein Leben. Allerdings nur im Geheimen.

Immer öfter empfand ich eine Form von Neid, wenn ich meine Schwester sah.

Meine Naivität der Kindheit war zum Großteil verschwunden. Ich wusste wie Sex funktioniert, dass es verschiedenste Arten gibt, Sex zu haben und dass es nicht nur zwischen Männern und Frauen funktioniert, sondern auch nur zwischen Männern oder nur unter Frauen.

Mein Neid gegenüber meiner Schwester ging nicht in die Richtung, dass sie schon mal Sex hatte oder sowas. Ehrlich gesagt, wusste ich auch gar nicht, ob sie schon mal gevögelt hatte oder nicht. Es ging eher um den sich veränderten Körper.

Mir begann langsam ein Bart zu wachsen, was meine Haut im Gesicht komisch machte, während ihre so schön glatt und weich blieb. Ich hatte sie seit damals zwar nicht nochmal nackt gesehen, aber auch durch die Kleidung konnte man erkennen, dass ihre Brüste wuchsen, wo ich flach blieb.

Auch die Art wie sie sich kleiden oder auch sich schminken „durfte”, gefiel mir viel mehr, als das, was mir das Leben und die Gesellschaft zuschrieb.

Wieder einmal, wie so oft in den letzten Jahren, fragte ich mich und die Welt im Großen und Ganzen: „Warum bin ich nur als Junge geboren? Hey Natur, du hast einen Fehler gemacht, denn ich müsste eigentlich ein Mädchen sein!”

Aber der wohl ausschlaggebende Punkt für mich, kam an einem Tag in den Sommerferien.

Meine Geschwister waren beide auf einer Ferienfreizeit, auf die ich eigentlich auch mit sollte, aber ich Trottel musste ja genau am ersten Ferientag die Treppe runterstürzen und mir so sehr den Knöchel verstauchen, dass ich nicht mit konnte.

So blieb ich mit meiner Mutter alleine zu Hause. Doch da sie arbeiten musste, war ich quasi den ganzen Tag alleine im Haus.

An einem solchen Tag packten mich mein Neid und meine Neugier und ich tat etwas, das ich noch nie getan habe. Ich ging, ohne dass sie da war und auch ohne ihre Erlaubnis in das Zimmer meiner Schwester. Die Bettwäsche war noch die, in der sie zuletzt schlief. Ohne mir etwas dabei zu denken, roch ich an ihrem Kopfkissen und es roch so wunderbar nach Mädchen.

Das nächste Ziel waren ihr Kleiderschrank und ihre Schubladen.

Hier war das Paradies. Ich sah ihre schönen Kleider, Tops, Röcke und in den Schubladen ihre Unterwäsche und ihre Söckchen.

Es gibt sicher Brüder, die jetzt erregt wurden, weil es die Wäsche der Schwester ist und manch einer hätte mit hoher Sicherheit, sich einen ihrer Slips stibitzt um rein zu wichsen.

Ich wurde auch erregt, aber nicht aus oben genannten Gründen, sondern weil ich mir wünschte, solche Kleidung auch besitzen zu dürfen.

Ich sah auf die Uhr. „13:28 Uhr, Mama würde nicht vor 18 Uhr zu Hause sein, zudem haben Jana und ich, in allem dieselbe Größe. Soll ich?”, huschte es mir durch den Kopf, doch bevor ein Gedanke hätte kommen können, der gesagt hätte: „Das sind die Sachen deiner Schwester, das geht nicht!”, zog ich mich komplett aus und suchte mir Sachen heraus, die mir besonders gefielen.

Ein Paar schwarze, dünne Kniestrümpfe, dazu ein ebenfalls schwarzes Höschen mit passendem BH (Ich musste etwas finden, womit ich ihn so ausstopfen konnte, als hätte ich Brüste). Aus ihrem Schrank nahm ich mir eines ihrer schönsten Kleider. Es war dunkelblau und sie sah so hübsch darin, an ihrem letzten Geburtstag aus.

Zusätzlich noch ein paar offene Schuhe, die zwar einen Absatz hatten, der aber nicht so hoch war. Allerdings, als ich versucht hatte, darin zu laufen, meldete sich mein Knöchel wieder, weshalb ich schweren Herzens doch auf die Schuhe verzichtete.

Hinten im Schrank fand ich sogar die schwarze Perücke, welche sie zum letzten Karneval trug.

Vorsichtig, denn ich wollte ja nichts kaputt oder schmutzig machen, zog ich alles an, nahm mir im Bad zwei Waschlappen die ich als „Brüste” in den BH stopfte, dann besah ich mich vor dem großen Spiegel meiner Schwester.

Gut dass ich nicht auf die Idee kam, mich zu schminken, denn, mal ganz davon abgesehen, dass ich das noch nicht konnte, wäre alles verlaufen, denn ich weinte als ich mich sah.

„Hallo du wunderschönes Mädchen!”, sagte ich unter meinen Tränen. Das was Escort Bayan ich sah … Das war ich! Nicht der Junge da drunter. Herrjeh, konnte die Natur denn wirklich einen so großen Fehler machen?

Mein Blick fiel auf den Schminktisch meiner Schwester und dort auf ihr Schmuckkästchen. Neben richtigen Ohrringen, hatte sie auch ein paar Ohrclips und da ich keine Löcher in den Ohrläppchen hatte, wollte ich diese ausprobieren. Doch ich war ungeschickt und zitterte, sodass mir einer davon aus der Hand und unter ihr Bett fiel.

„So ein Mist”, dachte ich. „Wenn ich den nicht wiederfinde, merkt sie doch, dass ich in ihrem Zimmer war!”

Also bückte ich mich, um den Ohrclip zu suchen. Doch als ich ihn fand, lag er vor einem Karton den meine Schwester, weit unter ihr Bett geschoben hatte.

Neugierig wie ich nun mal war, holte ich also nicht nur das Schmuckstück, sondern auch den Karton unter dem Bett hervor.

Hätte ich gewusst, dass ich damit ein sehr privates Geheimnis von Jana sehe, ich hätte ihn unter dem Bett gelassen. Doch nun sah ich die … wie soll ich sagen? Spielzeugsammlung meiner Schwester.

Ich staunte über all die Dinge die ich sah. Zwar wusste ich, was ein Vibrator ist und wofür Frauen diesen benutzen, aber hier hielt ich zum ersten Mal einen in der Hand. Was heißt einen? Es waren gleich drei. Zwei die wie ein echter Schwanz (Ja, meine Wortwahl hatte sich inzwischen geändert) geformt waren. Einen davon, konnte ich in Größe und Dicke ungefähr mit meinem Schwanz vergleichen, wenn dieser steif war. Aber der andere war ein Hammer. Fast so dick wie eine Faust und ich fragte mich, wie der in eine Frau reinpassen sollte.

Dann gab es noch einen weiteren, der komplett anders war, als die anderen. Er war so dünn wie mein Zeigefinger, war glatt und erinnerte mehr an einen Kugelschreiber. Doch wenn man hinten auf den Knopf drückte, kam nicht etwa vorne eine Miene raus, sondern das ganze Teil vibrierte. Es fühlte sich schön in der Hand an. Ich schaute wieder in den Karton. Zusätzlich zu den Vibratoren, fand ich eine Flasche mit der Aufschrift: „Sensitiv Gleitgel” und ein paar Kondome.

Aber dann kam das richtig Interessante. Da waren ein paar Bilder von nackten Frauen und Männern, die sehr jung wirkten, aber man sah trotzdem, dass sie über 18 waren.

Darunter lag eine DVD-Hülle. „Böse Mädchen kriegen den Arsch versohlt”, stand darauf.

Mir war gleich klar, dass es sich um einen Porno handelte.

Ich dachte immer, dass sich so etwas nur Männer angucken und hätte nie geglaubt, einen solchen Film im Zimmer meiner Schwester zu finden.

Erneut sah ich auf die Uhr. Es war nicht mal eine Stunde vergangen, seit ich begann Janas Kleidung anzuprobieren.

Wieder packte mich die Neugier, wie schon so oft in der letzten Stunde. Ich legte die Ohrclips zurück in das Schmuckkästchen, zog das Kleid aus und brachte es wieder sauber und geordnet in den Schrank zurück.

Die Unterwäsche und die Strümpfe behielt ich an, ebenso die Perücke.

Ich holte mir ein Tuch aus dem Badezimmer, legte den Film in den DVD Player meiner Schwester und schaltete das Fernsehgerät, das vor ihrem Bett stand an.

Als alles bereit war, legte ich mich einfach in ihr Bett. Ich wollte mich so fühlen wie Jana, wenn sie den Film sah.

Der Film ging schon sehr interessant los. Eine junge Frau, die wie ein Schulmädchen verkleidet war, bekam grade von ihrem „Lehrer” eine Strafarbeit. Sie weigerte sich, diese zu machen und meinte, er könne sie nicht dazu zwingen. Nach einem kleinen Wortgefecht, wurde sie von ihrem Lehrer an den Haaren vom Stuhl gezogen (wobei man natürlich sah, dass er nicht wirklich fest zog und sie in der Bewegung mitging) und über das Lehrerpult gebeugt. Er hob ihr sehr kurzes Röckchen hoch, unter dem sie nur einen dünnen String trug und schlug ihr mehrfach mit der flachen Hand auf den kleinen und festen Hintern, dass es nur so klatsche.

Die „Schülerin” stöhnte dabei immer wieder auf, worauf der Typ mit einem „Gefällt dir das etwa, du kleine Schlampe?” reagierte. Dann begann er ihren Hintern zu kneten und auch zu küssen und irgendwann im Laufe der Zeit steckte er ihr, seinen steifen Schwanz rein. Nicht in die Muschi, sondern ins Arschloch.

„Wow”, entflog es mir. Ich hatte längst den Slip ausgezogen und langsam begonnen meinen steifen Schwanz zu streicheln. Trotzdem fühlte ich nicht mit dem Typ, der dieses heiße Girl ficken durfte.

Eher wünschte ich mir an ihrer Stelle über dem Pult gebeugt zu sein und seine harte Rute reingeschoben zu bekommen.

Schon einige Monate vorher merkte ich, dass es mich noch viel geiler machte, wenn ich mir beim wichsen, an meinem Arschloch rumspiele. Meistens mache ich sogar einen Finger mit Spucke ganz nass und stecke ihn soweit es geht hinein. Mein Orgasmus fühlte sich dann noch viel schöner an.

Diesmal wollte ich es auch tun, doch plötzlich fiel mein Blick auf den kleinen Vibrator.

„Ob Jana ihn für ihren Hintern benutzt?”, fragte ich mich.

Blitzschnell schnappte ich ihn mir, schaltete ihn an und hielt die Spitze an meine Rosette.

Mann, war das ein geiles Gefühl. Ich versuchte ihn reinzustecken, aber trotz, dass ich ganz entspannt war, ging er nicht rein. Klar, es war zu trocken. Ich führte ihn schon zu meinem Mund, als ich an die Flasche mit dem Gleitgel dachte.