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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear reedr SDg gbhbbkjcvkjbbbd

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

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

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

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

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

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

In mid-May, I took a road trip to SW Minnesota to visit my long-time FWB. We've spent long weekends together in the past, going back to the fall of 2013, but this was the first time I'd be staying at her place -- a double-wide trailer outside a small Minnesota town of about 15,000. It was our first meeting since October 2021. In the interim her dog had died, she'd dumped a "boy toy" 30 years her junior, suffered a hysterectomy, and was taking medication to help her cope with her agoraphobia (fear of public places). In past years, we'd always met at a hotel or Airbnb in the Twin Cities, about a two-hour drive from her place, so this would be quite a departure (venue-wise) from our standard weekend fuck fest.

She's exactly 20 years younger than I am (minus four days!), a natural redhead (my Scandinavian princess!), extremely bi-sexual (her words), and clearly the hottest woman I've been with sexually. I'm constantly amazed at her interest in me, since I'm a lot older, not particularly good-looking, about 25 pounds overweight, and definitely NOT hung. But every time we're together, she's really happy to spend time with me. On more than one occasion she's said, "I feel smarter when I'm with you." I guess that's a good thing.

I got to town on Sunday morning and came by her place at 10:00. T was dressed in a t-shirt and yoga pants, with bare feet. She's a night-owl, whereas I'm definitely a morning person. In fact, one of the first things we talked about when I got to her place -- just outside town in a fairly rural area -- was our circadian incompatibility. As I was making buttermilk pancakes for us (from scratch!), I said, "You know, we'd never be compatible enough to live together, since you're up 'til all hours and I'm in bed by 10:00." It was a nonsense issue, anyway, since she'd never move to Denver (her daughter and grandson are 10 minutes away), and there's no way I'd willingly move to where she lives. Oh -- and another complication involves the fact that I'm married (although she thinks my wife is actually my lesbian roommate, and thankfully they've never met).

Interestingly, she countered my "couldn't live together" statement with a surprising suggestion. "Well," she said, coming up behind me and pressing her braless breasts against my back as I was mixing pancake batter. "We could always compromise. You could stay up until 11, I'd get up at 8, and we could have sex at night, instead of in the morning when you seem to be at your horniest." I followed up with, "Every night?" She replied, "I suppose, five out of seven."

She was unnecessarily self-conscious about her appearance, which is why she spent most of the time we were together in fairly baggy tops and long pants in place of shorts. At 5'5, she'd always weighed around 110-115 pounds, but after taking anti-depressants to help with her agoraphobia, she'd gained about 30 pounds. "One bonus, I guess," she declared ironically, "Is that I'm a 36C or D instead of a 32B, but now the only bras that fit me right are sports bras." I told her multiple times during my visit that I thought she looked as desirable as ever, but she wasn't entirely buying it.

We spent the rest of Sunday checking out the town (such as it is) and had dinner at an Italian restaurant before going to a newly opened ice cream shop for dessert. Back at her place, she fired up a bong with some home-grown ganja (it's legal in Minnesota) and enticed me to take a few hits as well. One thing about T -- getting high means getting horny, and she didn't spare the smoke. It was my first foray since college, and she thought it was HILARIOUS that I hadn't indulged in close to 50 years. However, it seemingly had no effect on me, which she found equally funny. We ended up watching a PBS special on the life and times of Richard III of England, which apparently was much more entertaining for her in her altered state.

After a shower, I put on some short summer PJs and climbed into bed. She joined me about 10 minutes later wearing a different baggy t-shirt and long-leg pajama bottoms. She again expressed her displeasure with her weight gain, explained she hadn't had sex since New Year's Eve (the boy toy's final campaign, as it turned out), and stated she wasn't ready to "do anything" with me. I knew she'd consumed a fair amount of silly smoke, but I truthfully told her I was OK with that and didn't want to pressure her into anything. She switched off the light, and I figured that was that.

After about five minutes, she asked, "Are you asleep?" At the moment I was semi-hard and trying to figure out how I could jerk off without disturbing her. When I told her I was still awake, she asked, "Would you like a hand job?" Naturally I said yes, stripping off my PJ bottoms and tossing back the covers to give her all the access she required. She reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tube of lube, spreading it generously on my cock-head and down the shaft before taking a firm grip and stroking me with precision. After a minute or so, she asked, "Does that feel good?" I said, "T, my love, whenever a woman has her hand on a guy's dick, that is a question that never needs to be asked!" She laughed and rested her head on my chest as she continued to stroke earnestly.

Curled up against me as she was, I managed to reach down behind her and slide my hand between her thighs. I wasn't sure she'd let me continue to rub her PJ-covered crotch, but she shifted around to give me better access, so I kept up the pressure. One thing about T -- she goes from zero to 60 faster than a tricked-out Shelby GT. I had her squirming, humping against my hand, and moaning loudly in less than two minutes. Without warning, her mouth engulfed my cock and she was delivering a very satisfactory blow job. I slid my hand inside her pajama bottoms and discovered how wet she was. I quickly had two fingers fully inside her pussy, and her vocalization was suddenly louder and about an octave higher. After a brief minute, she declared, "You just HAVE to fuck me!" Pulling away from me momentarily, she stripped off her PJs and climbed aboard. I was rock-hard and slid inside her with ease. Despite her surgeries a year earlier, she was still as tight as I'd remembered. T loves to be on top, and she was soon grinding her clit against me as she rocked back and forth on my cock.

I wanted to take off her top, but she resisted by saying, "No -- don't!" Instead, I pushed the hem of her t-shirt up above her breasts and tugged on her nipples. That trigged the first of what would prove to be dozens of orgasms that night, as she moaned, grunted, breathed hard, muttered "Oh, fuck" about 50 times, and bent down to kiss me with a ferocity I'd rarely experienced with any woman. After she worked herself into a second orgasm, T climbed off and rolled onto her back. That was my cue to do what I do best -- eat pussy. For the next 60-75 minutes, I had her quivering, crying out obscenities, shaking like a leaf, and coming again and again. The next morning, when I questioned whether she'd enjoyed what was close to a three-hour session, she struck back with my own logic. "When a guy with your skills has his mouth on a woman's clit and his fingers massaging every inch of the inside of her vagina, that's a question you never need to ask!"

Following wave after wave of orgasms, T pushed my face away from her crotch and asked, "Zac, you still hard?" I'd been grinding my erection firmly into her mattress the entire time I was eating her pussy, and it hadn't abated. "You bet," I replied enthusiastically, which was a surprise since it was close to 2 a.m., well past my normal bedtime. "You need to fuck me some more. You can come inside, since I have no more womb." I reminded her I'd had a vasectomy decades ago, at which point she said, "Oh, that's right. Well, what are you waiting for?" She rolled flat on her back and spread her legs wide apart before tugging on my erection and saying, "C'mon, shove it right in." And so I did.

When I was in my 20s and 30s, I suffered from a fairly quick trigger, ejaculation-wise. Now in my early 70s -- and really for the past 10-15 years -- it always takes me a long time to come, but I rarely if ever have difficulty getting and staying hard. Such was the case that night, as I fucked her insistently. She wrapped her legs around me and crossed her ankles to provide some leverage as she tugged me toward her, stroke after stroke. My arms were tiring from propping up my 225-pound body above her, and I started to make a move to disengage so I could find a less stressful position and then re-insert. She sensed I was about to climb off when she pulled me down against her chest and whispered in my ear, "You're not heavy. Just keep fucking me until you come." Who was I to argue with that? At this point she was well into double-digit orgasms, and figuring I'd done all I could to make her feel special, it was time to look after my own release. I let my mind focus on one thing -- the feeling in my cock as it was being gripped by T's pussy. Something like a dozen thrusts later, I froze up and pumped her full of man-jizz (that's what she likes to call it). I was exhausted and let my body press fully against hers. "Get off me, ya big lug!" she called out, half-jokingly, and I withdrew and rolled onto my side of the bed. "I suppose you want me to clean that up?" she asked, scooping up a drop of cum from the tip of my cock with her index finger before putting it into her mouth. "Well," I suggested, "You clean me up and I'll return the favor." "Nah, it's too late," T responded. "You stay there, and I'll bring back a washcloth."

She returned a few minutes later with the promised rag, moistened with warm water, and proceeded to mop up my crotch. "I can't believe how much you came in me," she said. "What -- you were saving it up for a special occasion?" I declared there was no more special occasion for me than being in her bed, which prompted a sensuous kiss on the lips and a "Oh, you're such a sweet-talker!" I was out like a light in less than two minutes, I'm sure, and we slept in until 10:30 the next morning. I awoke before she did (that's almost always the case), and after visiting the bathroom to pee, I came back to bed and tried to get her in the mood for some morning sex. After putting up with my hand rubbing her snatch through the PJs she'd put back on after we'd finished, she pushed me away and said, "Don't! My pussy's sore and I'll need all day to recover." That sounded like a good indicator for what might take place when next we went to be, and indeed it was. To be continued -----

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

i confess that I turned my boots into a piss puddle…I was on a crowded train, but I had been feeling horny alll day… I hadn’t peed either. my bladder was so full, it felt like it was going to burst. there was so many people on every side of me, touching me… I just let loose. I was wearing pantyhose and a skirt, so the pee just dripped down my legs and into my boots. I don’t think anyone noticed, but I almost wish someone did ;)for the rest of the ride it was like I was standing in a puddle of piss. feeling my toes slosh around in it made me so wet! When I got off the train later I had to empty my boots, and I was surprised at how much was in there!After a long time consideration I drink them all. peeing in public is my favorite 😍

I confess I love making my sissy jerk off with my disgusting ashtrays. I wanted to share sissy’s shame with everyone.  I get so wet knowing sissy can’t cum without being degraded and humiliated. I know it makes his little half erect dick sore but I can’t help abusing it. Sissy is sooo submissive he will do ANYTHING I demand. I’ve made him lick his cum from dirty ashtrays, stuff his ass with cigarette butts, given him warm piss enemas, made him suck cock, wear diapers in public,  open his mouth to ash my cigarette in public, lick toilets and urinals, and even pisses in his mouth forced to drink my urine. Sissy admitted being used as an ashtray while being forced to sit in his own pee smells like the gas station men’s rooms he would suck cock as a teen and the smell brings him pleasurable memories making him horny to serve me as my little sissy faggot. 

i love to leave the door open when i pee in public toilets :)

My story;
A couple of years ago I wanted to explore my sexual wildside, so I created a tinder account.

In my profile I wrote that I wanted to try new things and wasn't looking for a relationship. I posted a selfie of my face as a profile picture and a second picture of me in a short skirt and top which was taken at a mall.

In reponse I got a barrage of cock pics, questions of my bra size, age, sex and location, and if I had facebook, instagram, snapchat, and or a toe acoount. I wanted to keep my private life and my social media life separate so I would tell them no I didn't. Which made most think I was a catfish.

I received one email from a guy, we will call him Jake. Jake messaged me asking about my day, my hopes and dreams, and what exactly wasI looking for and after several messages back and forth Jake asked if before exchanging emails, just to be safe if I could take a picture of myself holding up one finger on one hand and on the other hand a thumbs up. I did. We emailed several times then chatted via messenger and spoke on the phone a couple of times. Finally we decided to meet at his place. To be safe I wrote down on a piece of paper who I was meeting, his address and phone number then hid the note under my pillow to be found just incase I would "disappear"

I wore a thigh high skirt and a button down blouse, put my hair into a ponytail and ordered an Uber. I was dropped off in front of Jake's house which was just 8 or 9 miles from my own. My heart was beating in my chest. I was so nervous, I almost just left and went back home, but I collected myself, took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

Jake greeted me with a hug and invited me into his house. "I can't believe you're real" he told me "most girls that look like you are fake accounts." No, I am very real. lol.. you got a nice place.
He then said "I know we haven't talked about it but would you be open to videoing us together?" I said NO WAY, and told him I would never want to do that, and I reminded him of all the things I am not into. I wasn't into poop, pee or animals AND especially making a sex tape. He said "Ok I want you to feel safe, you look sexy by the way, can I kiss you?" Of course. Jake put his arms around me and kissed me, holding me tighter against himself. His hands explored my back and the curve of my ass over my top and skirt, I put my arms around his neck. He was a great kisser. I felt my breast grow firm and round. I did my best to press them against him. While kissing he walked me backwards to his living room couch and we laid on our sides. While making out his hands started exploring my body over my clothes and then he kissed me on my neck, I never knew how much that turned me on till then. To say it turned me on was an understatement. I felt him slide his hand up my thigh and under my skirt, lifting it a bit, his finger massaging my pussy through my panties, his kisses on my neck sliding lower kissing my breasts over my blouse. I quickly fumbled with the buttons and undid my top exposing my bra. He pulled off my top then pulled down the bra straps and unhooked my bra in the front exposing my bare breasts and his warm mouth covered my very erect pink puffy nipples. First the right then the left. His warm mouth on my breast was amazing!! He slid lower down my body raising up my skirt and sliding down my panties, I raised my hips as the panties slid down my ass and revealed my vagina, smooth with just a light hint of velvet like short hairs. He kissed between my thighs. I started to rub my breasts, my heart pounding in my chest. His warm mouth covered my labia as his tongue pressed into me. I gasped loudly. I am not very sexually experianced and this felt so amazing, so incrediable making me feel things I had not before. He pressed his mouth against me looping his arms under my legs and holding my hips, his tongue swishing up and and and circling, I couldn't hold back and I moaned and bucked my hips uncontrollably my body trembled, as a release of energy made me clench my abs and I moaned again pressing my thighs together around his head, my wetness drenching his lips, nose and chin. Then I fell back panting. He looked up at me and said "That was fast, have you never had that done before?" In a breathy voice I said no not like that!! I flopped my head back down, feeling the wetness between my thighs and the light aftershocks of my orasm finally subsided.

Jake said "I got something I want you to try" and took my hand and I stood up he told me to just leave my clothes there. We walked through the kitchen into his bedroom and he said "Bobbie I want you to wear a blindfold and then feel my dick, feel it and kiss it, the blindfold will enhance your senses and you will experience things you wouldn't normally feel. I agreed. He then walked into his bathroom and came back with two white square cotton bandages, placed them over each of my eyes and took a black scarf and covered my eyes firmly around the back of my head "Can you see anything?" No. "Good." I heard him take off his shirt and unzip his pants and then his pants fell to the floor with a clunk. He said, "Bobbie, get on your knees." I did so. I heard him take a step to the side and what sounded like a drawer open then he stepped back close to me again Jake said "Bobbie age 19 sucking her first dick. I laughed, Dude! you don't have to narrate this to me. Jake said sorry "I am just nervous" me too I whispered, I felt the tip of his cock bump against my nose then against my lips, I reached up and and felt his cock with my hand he was very firm and very thick I rubbed it with my hand, I felt his hand on my head guilding it closer, it pressed against my lips then with a bit more pressure it entered my mouth, it tasted slightly salty, my tongue circled it, exploring all the curves and surfaces. My lips firmly pressed against the shaft as i slid it deeper into my mouth then back up. "Try to go all the way down" I relaxed my mouth and slid down onto his cock until my lips pressed against soft short public hair, breathing through my nose, his hand rested on the top of my head as he pushed his hips forward a bit and I gagged and pulled my head back quickly. Sorry!! sorry!! I couldn't take it that deep Jake. "It's okay Bobbie, just remember to relax your jaw and try again. I began to suck him again, "faster, yeah like that" my head bobbed up and down on his shaft, my tongue circling it. I was really enjoying the feeling of this cock in my mouth "Bobbie you like sucking that cock don't you?" Mmm hmm

a few more minutes of sucking his cock and his hand was back on my head pressing me closer to him. As his body tensed I pulled my head back but his hand kept it in place I felt a warm gush explode into my mouth, it was gooey hot and tasted salty sweet. I started to gag, "Swallow it Bobbie!" I tried to pull my head back again but his hand kept me there, I grabbed his hips with both of my hands trying to push away as another spurt shot into my mouth "RELAX AND SWALLOW IT BOBBIE'' Jaked yelled. I gagged again and then his hand let my head go, he stepped away and I fell forward, stopping my fall with my hands. I coughed three or four times, I heard a drawer slam shut like he knocked into his dresser. I sat back up untied the blindfold and pulled the squares off my eyes. He wasn't in the room. He came out of the bathroom a few seconds later still naked but with a hand towel. "How was that?" I stammered Intense! What was it like for you? Was I ok? "Bobbie, you were great. but unfortunately I forgot that I had a thing I have to get to and I don't want to sound like a prick but I need you to go so I can leave" Well okay do you want to hook up again?.. "Oh Bobbie I would love that, now let's get dressed and you can wipe off your mouth with this" and handed me the hand towel. I wiped off my face and my breasts where some drops of sperm had dripped. We both dressed and he hugged me at the front door and waited with me until my Uber arrived to take me back home.

"I will call or text you soon," I smiled. Ok. I gave him a huge hug then got into the car.

I took a long bath thinking about my experience with Jake and the taste in my mouth that didn't seem to go away. Later that night and for the next two nights I laid in bed awake thinking about Jake and what I had experienced. I was so aroused that I masterbated and orgasmed very quickly. I would muffle my moans with my own pillow so I wouldn't wake up anyone else in the house. It was almost a week later and I didn't hear anything from Jake. I was very disappointed but I figured this would happen, I would be ghosted. all the other responses I got on Tinder was boring.

Then on Friday night late around 1 or 2 am I got a text from Jake, "Would you like to have another blindfold session?"

I responded I was beginning to think I would never hear from you again and yes I would love that but maybe we could explore something new?!! Fifteen minutes later Jake responded with "Oh yes, come over to my house noon tomorrow, text me when you are on your way, good night and sweet dreams Bobbie" I fell asleep and woke up to a text from Jake: 3am "Wear a schoolgirl uniform and put your hair in pigtails that would be so hot if you don't mind"

I never thought I would ever tell anyone about this, I have kept my secret from anyone I know for a very long time. I found this site by total accident and my god what a lucky accident it was. I suppose I should tell you a little about me. My name is Lucy and I will be 65 this year. I was married to a wonderful man who sadly passed away last year from Covid. We were married for 40 years and we never had children because I had an accident in my early 20s and was unable to have any. We had a good life together and we are both very respected in our village, one reason why I will not post any pictures of myself here, and who would want to see my saggy old body anyway. But I am getting off point. My confession is what happened to me just before my 19th birthday way back in the very hot summer of 76. I had just left high school after doing very well in my exams, I was taking a year out before going to university. My parents had a holiday home in Cornwall just on the edge of a beautiful fishing village. They said that I could stay there with my best friend Tina for the summer. My parents were very well off and said because I had worked hard they would fund the summer for us both, so that we could enjoy the summer without the stress of finding a job. I had known Tina most of my life and like me she was totally innocent, and I mean innocent. neither of us had ever had a boyfriend and we were both very much virgins. I had masturbated before but not very often as being catholic I was always told that was wrong and not what good girls did.
We took the train from London and then a bus to the village and got to the cottage a little after 5pm. It was still very hot and after out trip down we both needed a shower. I had picked the biggest room and she had the room right across from me. I was stripping off when she came in, all I had on was my bra and for the first time ever someone saw me naked. I froze but she didn't miss a beat and sat on the bed smiled at me and said dont stop on her account. So I took my bra off too, not that it hid very much as my breasts were really very small. I felt a thrill at being naked in front of her and I saw she was looking right at my hairy pussy, back then I had never even heard of shaving and it was very hairy, and I am a natural red head, a real ginger. Tina was my opposite she had big breasts 34C if I remember right, and beautiful dark hair almost jet black. As she looked at me she said it was too hot and took off her clothes too. Unlike me she had trimmed her pussy hair, it was very neat and almost a perfect triangle. I had never seen another person naked before, even at school we had private changing cubicles, catholic school again. I asked her why she had done that with her pubic hair and she said her mum had suggested it so that when she put a bikini on no hair would show. I said I would be too scared in case I cut myself and she said she was too but she managed it with no accidents. She said I should do it too and I said I would think about it. We showered and got dressed and went to the village pub, We drank a little too much that night, must have been the shock of the new freedom we had. We got back to the cottage around midnight and I fell onto the couch, she laughed and said we better find our beds. I was so drunk I woke up still wearing my clothes and shocked to find Lucy in bed next to me, unlike me she had got undressed and was totally naked next to me. She was still sleeping and totally dead to the world. I have no idea why I did it but I reached over and touched her massive breast, pulled my hand away almost right away. I felt myself get wet and I mean wet. I reached down and felt a wet patch. I had woken up horny and having her naked next to me just made me worse. She was on her back legs open just enough that I could see her pussy. I had never before had the urge to masturbate so bad, I got up and went to the toilet stripped off and sat on the toilet and rubbed myself like there was no tomorrow, in my rush I had forgotten to lock the door, and as I rubbed myself she opened the door and saw me. I have no idea if it was because she saw me or not but at that moment I had the most intense orgasm to date, I totally lost control and as she watched not only did I cum but lost control of my bladder and pissed all over the floor missing the toilet. She laughed and said that looked fun and could I get up as she needed to pee so bad. I tried but my legs were still shaking and had o sit on the edge of the bath, she sat down and had a pee. She looked at me and out of the blue said I was beautiful then left. I cleaned up and got dressed. We had decided the night before that we were going to the beach that day and I remember agreeing to trim my pussy hair so it would show. Something that she took great delight reminding me as we had breakfast. I told her I was still scared to do it in case I cut myself and she said she would do it for me if I liked. I was shocked at how quick I said yes and she said I should get undressed and she would do it. I sat on the bath again and she told me to open my legs, I did as she asked and she cut away a lot of the longer hair and then she got the shaving soap and razor my dad had left and gently she rubbed it over my pussy. I could feel myself get wet again and she shaved me. I had to turn round and she shaved the hair that was almost at my bottom, when she had finished I was almost bald. And no cuts at all.
We put on our bikinis and I had a yellow summer dress and Tian had a pale blue one. We walked to a small cove and we were pleased to find no one else there. It was 11am and so hot, we took off our summer dresses and went for a swim to cool off. We lay on the beach and she asked me if I liked my new look? I said I did and loved the way it felt too. She said that I should let her see it again, I almost chocked and said we were in public but she said no one was about so whats the problem. Looking back I can see she was coming on to me but at the time I never put 2 and 2 together. I pulled my bikini bottoms down and she looked over saying It looked amazing and she pulled hers down and asked if hers was as pretty?

Thats all I have time for just now part 2 coming soon

This is my fiance, Amber. She is my dirty girl, and she knows how much it turns me on to share her. I am going to post videos and photos of her in the comments, and I'll take requests and share all comments with her. She enjoys reading them, and ask her nicely and maybe she'll write something for you on paper and pose with it for you. I have videos of her peeing and getting peed on, spit on and abused. I have pictures of her in public and in private. She deserves to be used. Any requests or ideas?

It was a Friday evening in late March 2019. My wife was halfway through her two-week overseas trip to visit her brother, and I had the house to myself (except for my cat). Earlier that week I’d texted Jamie to see if she was up for a visit to one of our local XXX theaters, a possibility we’d tossed back and forth since earlier in the year. She and I met the previous October, when a buddy of mine had arranged a gang bang as part of our group’s ongoing activities. Using Craigslist personals, our cadre of six to eight guys, aged 50-plus, had fucked close to a dozen women over the previous year. With that platform’s demise, activity was down considerably, but we’d had one great last party, with Jamie as the target. She’s in her mid-30s, a petite 5’1” and just slightly more than 120 pounds, a natural brunette with dyed-blonde streaks, a shaved pussy, and 34B tits. On that October 2018 Sunday afternoon, five of us guys (ranging in age from 53 to 67) worked her over for the better part of three hours. Every hole was violated multiple times, she had semen leaking out of both lower orifices (not to mention the multiple shots she’d taken down her throat), and her orgasms had easily surpassed the two-dozen mark. Driving her home later that day from the hotel room where we’d done our dirty work, Jamie insisted she’d had the time of her life.

Five months later, I contacted her to ask if she wanted to accept the offer I’d made on that drive home. Jamie returned my text midday Thursday, and I agreed to pick her up the following evening for a night of as much semi-public debauchery as she could handle. It turned out she’d just been released from jail that day, having served five days in the county lockup for failing to appear at a DUI hearing. Subsequently bailed out by a friend, she announced how horny she felt, clearly ready for some action.

She popped into my car wearing a black mesh see-through top (no bra), covered by a light zip-up jacket, plus a black micro-mini skirt (barely covering her ass) and ankle boots with four-inch heels. I asked what she was wearing underneath the skirt, and in reply she grabbed my hand and shoved it between her thighs. “Black crotchless panties. You like them?” she asked. Her pussy was silky smooth and already wet.

We drove over to Circus Cinemas, the XXX movie house in North Denver. The downstairs area is an adult store, featuring tons of videos for sale plus every possible type of sex toy you can imagine. Upstairs there are three theaters, each showing hardcore fuck films. One is devoted exclusively to gay porn, while the other two show a constantly rotating mix of professionally shot hetero porn drawn from studios like Brazzers, Vixen Video, etc. A few years ago, the owners had installed new fold-down stadium-type seats with armrests in between each. The theaters have seven or eight rows of five seats each, but the place rarely has more than 12-18 patrons at any one time.

I paid our $12 entry fee and we headed up the stairs. This place has CCTV with monitors in each theater, so it’s possible for customers to see who’s coming in and whether they’re heading for one of the movie theaters. Women don’t come here often, so the appearance of a female always draws considerable attention. Couples seem to fit into one of three stereotypical roles. Most are there for stimulation, so they come in, watch the screen for 20 or 30 minutes (some sit stoically while others might engage in some light petting), and then split, presumably to return home to fuck while the juices are still flowing. A smaller number are there to show off, gladly allowing those around them to watch-and-jerk while they engage in oral sex. We usually see the girl go down on the guy, suck him dry after a short spell, and then they leave.
The third group, by far the rarest, is where the woman is there to engage with random customers. This almost always involves her performing blow jobs on assorted guys, while her companion either (a) simply watches, (b) finger-fucks her at the same time, (c) either goes first or patiently awaits his turn, or (d) joins in. In all the times I’ve gone to CC, I’ve never seen any full-on intercourse – well, except for that one time a truck-driver type fucked a cross-dresser in his ass.

Jamie was clearly ready for us to be part of that third group. We slipped into Theater One, where she promptly led me down to the front row. Most of the action takes place in the darkened recesses of the back row, but it’s a cramped space. Jamie clearly preferred the front, where there were no obstacles for anyone to approach her. It was 7:30 on a Friday, but the place was pretty empty. I counted five guys in both theaters, and none of them seemed ready to hit on Jamie. She slipped her hand into my sweats –I’d worn sweatpants commando-style, anticipating the action to follow – while I reached over and started to play with her pussy. After about 15 minutes of this, and with no one coming forward she said, “Let’s get out of here and head over to Pleasures.” On our way out, she talked me into buying her a pint-sized vibrator from the bargain bin, which would come into play much later that evening.

West Colfax in Denver is an old Jewish neighborhood that is now mostly Hispanic. A fixture at King & Colfax is the old Act I & Act II porn house, which was bought out a few years ago by the folks who operate multiple Pleasures adult stores around town. They remodeled the place, which mostly involved splitting the two big theaters into five mini-ones, and thankfully solved the problem of the place always smelling like piss. It’s a pricier entry fee ($24 for a couple), and they’re adamant about two things, both of which were told to us several times while I waited for the cashier to hand over my change. No unaccompanied women – ever – and couples are required to stay together the whole time.

We walked through the entry door into a dark corridor lined with viewing booths. Another aspect of this place is the melding of an old-time porn theater with modern booths, each with its own video screen and hundreds of XXX movie options. Your ticket price includes unlimited viewing over a six-hour period, although I’ve never seen anyone’s ticket checked to see if they’re overstayed their welcome. There must be 40-50 booths in all; some have doors that lock on the inside, but most are fairly open. The hallways wind around in a way that you almost wish you’d brought some breadcrumbs to scatter so you can find your way out again. This place was far better attended, and Jamie certainly attracted a lot of attention as we worked our way toward the east side of the building and its multiple mini-theaters.

Each theater shows a different porn genre, and it’s marked on the doors so you know what to expect. Only one runs pure hetero porn, though, and that’s where we were headed. It’s the theater farthest from the entrance, with two rows of five padded theater seats WELL PAST their sell-by dates, plus fairly spacious aisles all around the block of seats. Jamie again led me to the front row, but this time we had plenty of company. The first guy, around Jamie’s age, wasted no time in unzipping his jeans and pulling out his semi-hard dick. She tugged on his trouser leg to urge him closer and immediately sucked him all the way into her mouth. Then she wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the base of his shaft while working her lips around the cock-head, meanwhile reaching over to me with her left hand and grabbing my wrist. She pushed my hand in between her spread-apart thighs, and I responded by shoving two fingers into her pussy and pressing my thumb against her clit.

This first guy lasted maybe three minutes and pulled out just as he was coming. Some of his semen landed on her outstretched tongue, but most got deposited on her chin. Before she had a chance to wipe it away, however, a much older guy (mid-50s?) jumped in front of her with his pants already down around his ankles. She went to work on him immediately. Meanwhile, I climbed down off my seat and knelt as close to her front as possible. Once she realized what I had in mind, she twisted toward me while pushing her companion over to the other side. This gave me much clearer access to her pussy, and I took full advantage. I did everything to her that she liked, with two fingers deep and up against her g-spot, my tongue flicking her clit and occasionally sucking on it hard between my lips, and pulling out my fingers to replace it with a rigid tongue. She loves to have her asshole worked as well, but with the narrow confines of the seating and the fact she was sucking off a guy who partially blocked my full access to her crotch, that was one maneuver that would need to wait until later.

Old Guy neatly shot his wad down her throat and got replaced right away by some hefty Hispanic dude. I kept eating and fingering her pussy, and she rode up against my face through three or four orgasms plus a total of four blow jobs to completion. My knees were getting sore, so I stood up just as Guy No. 4 (a chubby white guy in his 20s) blasted her face. At that Jamie was ready for a break, so I helped her up and scraped most of the jizz off her chin before feeding it to her. The crowd of guys, which had grown to about 15 from the time we’d started, let out a collective “Ooh.” She called out to the group, “Don’t go too far, boys. I’ll be back shortly.”

We found our way through the maze to one of the bathrooms, and I locked the door behind us as she sat down to take a pee. “Did you bring any condoms?” she asked. I admitted to be holding half a dozen, so she smiled and said, “Oh, good. Let’s go back and see who wants to fuck.” As we walked into the mini-theater to return to our seats, Jamie stopped short and confronted the same old guy who’d been her second oral customer. “You’re still here,” she stated rather than asked. “You got enough left to give me a good fuck?” He appeared speechless and could only nod, so she grabbed hold of his shirtfront and half-dragged him behind her as she made her way to the front row again. “Give him a rubber,” she instructed me, so I did and then went to lean against the side wall to watch what came next.

Jamie reversed herself and knelt on the sagging theater seat, halfway leaning over the back while spreading her legs. Old Guy dropped his drawers to display a reasonably erect dick, tore open the condom wrapper and expertly slipped it on. He leaned up against Jamie, trying to find the proper height to allow him entry. Meanwhile she reached down between her legs and helped guide him into her pussy. There was a bit of confusion and halfhearted thrusts as they tried to work out between them who was going to do what. But they eventually fell into a satisfactory rhythm, and Old Guy gave her everything he had. The room was quiet except for the XXX video playing up on the big screen, so it was possible to hear clearly the guys grunts as he thrust forward, the slap of his thighs on her ass, and the moans coming from her mouth as she rubbed her clit while getting fucked.

At this point the room was pretty full of guys. Most of them had their dicks out and were stroking them. Off in one corner I noticed, for the first time, two fairly hefty cross-dressers who were clearly T-gurls, complete with breasts on display by their low-cut outfits. The smaller one was on his knees, sucking some skinny guy’s cock. Meanwhile the larger one – at least 6-4, 275 – pushed away a couple of guys who were standing in the row behind Jamie. I later learned s/he went by the name of Brittany, since as we were leaving an hour or so later, Jamie made a point of collecting a phone number. Anyway, Brittany stood right in front of Jamie as she was getting fucked, waited a beat or two to size up the situation, and then moved those feminine garments aside to reveal a massively thick cock. Without saying a word or waiting for Jamie’s reaction, s/he pulled Jamie’s head forward with one hand while guiding that dick between her lips with the other. The sight of her choking on that monster may have been too much for Old Guy, because he quickly finished up inside her and withdrew.

Jamie forced her way off that cock and asked Brittany to fuck her. S/he grunted by way of reply and went to the front of the room. I offered up a condom as s/he passed by, only to be told in a high, lispy voice, “No thanks, I’ve got my own.” Brittany ripped open a Magnum, worked the latex over the massive cock-head and down the impressively thick shaft, and took Jamie fairly brutally. S/he grabbed Jamie’s buttocks and lifted her up off into the air, which was the only way Brittany could achieve full penetration without kneeling on the floor; that’s how much of a height difference there was between them. This repositioning forced Jamie’s head down to the bottom of the seat, her face plastered against the faux-velvet-covered seat back. Brittany pounded her mercilessly for at least 40 or 50 strokes before letting out a most unladylike bellow and freezing in place while “her” cock pulsed inside Jamie’s pussy. After withdrawing, Brittany spun Jamie around and stuck that jizz-covered dick into her mouth. Jamie calmly licked it clean and then tilted her head back so she could drain the cum from the used condom she’d grabbed out of Brittany’s hand and suspended up above her face. Those still assembled (literally) gave her a standing ovation.

As all good actors know when it’s time to leave the stage, Jamie decided the conclusion of her encounter with Brittany was the perfect exit line. She stood up, somewhat shakily it seemed, pointed to the jacket she’d shed so that I knew to grab it, and then took my hand as we made our way out of the theater. Knowing I hadn’t gotten much of Jamie’s attention so far, although I’d enjoyed the show immensely and was proud to have used my oral skills to make her cum multiple times, as we headed toward my car she said, “Let’s go back to your place and try out some of those toys you told me about. I can’t wait to run my new vibrator over my clit, and my ass needs some serious Zac-attention.” But the rest of the evening’s activities will have to wait for another time to be told.

Went to the public toilet for a pee