Missy The Psychotic Slut
(Warning, this is a fucking novel – if it’s TLDR than don’t bother – hold your negative comments to yourself. No need to cry about shit you’ve been warned about)

Missy knows I’m on this website, and she gave me permission to post this story and her picture.

Missy is a psychotic slut, but I’m okay with that. I first met her through a mutual friend, and that friend warned me about her extensively. I didn’t pay attention, nor did I care – I just wanted to get some pussy. I loved the way she didn’t give a fuck about anything, the way she would speak her mind loudly in public. For most – she was annoying as fuck, but I found her antics cute in a weird way.
I guess I should start on how we met through a mutual friend. My friend bought too many tickets to a movie and invited her along. We have a tight friend group but they never invited Missy, this was the first time any of us met her. After the movie we all went out to eat, there was 5 of us, and Missy was silent for most of the outing. But at the restaurant she spoke up, and tried to fit in the best she could.
For some reason she focused on me, asking what I did for a living, where I lived, if I was single. I told her that I was single, that I was in a long term relationship for a while and it ended badly, and I didn’t want to talk about it. She had a very perky attitude, we would make eye contact and she would blush and look away. The night wrapped up and everyone was going their separate ways, she came up to me and asked me for my number.
“Hey, I think you’re cool – can I get your phone number? Maybe we can hang out sometime?”
“Sure thing, that would be great, you’re cool too,” so we exchanged phone numbers.
Later on my friend texted me, “bro, not trying to put a damper on your love life but just be careful, she’s a bit psychotic.”
“Crazy women are supposed to be the best lays,” I responded back.
Missy texted me the next day, “Hey, it’s Missy – just saying hi and that I had a wonderful time talking to you.”
I was at work, but since I work in the IT field I can pretty much do what I want so I texted her back, “it was a pleasure to meet you and talk to you too! Hope you’re having a good day!”
“I’d be having a good day if I didn’t have to deal with so many stupid patients,” she replied back. We texted for a bit, turns out she is an x-ray tech and makes pretty good money. I felt a sigh of relief, she has a decent job so maybe my friend was making up rumors about Missy because he liked her?
“What are you doing tonight? You want to hang out?” She asked through text.
I didn’t have any plans, and I haven’t been on a date in a long time, nor got my dick wet in a long time after my breakup. I was tired of playing with myself and needed a nice warm woman, plus Missy had some big tits. So I agreed to chill with her but added a bit of flair to my next text to her.
“Hang out, or go on a date?”
“How about hang out on a date?” she texted back flirtingly.
We made plans and she gave me her address so I could pick her up. I was going to take her out to a nice restaurant and see where things went from there.
I picked her up, she was dressed in a nice summer dress with flowers. She had her short blonde hair up in pigtails, she looked cute. She got in my car and plopped down in the seat, pecked me on the cheek and then put her seatbelt on. She started rummaging through her purse and started applying lip gloss.
“So how old are you?” She asked me.
“Oh, I’m 31, how about you?”
“25, going to be 26 next month.”
We ate dinner, and decided to go back to her place. Her apartment was pretty clean, she had decorative swords on her walls and some medieval themed pictures with knights and castles. There were various pictures of her and her family, and a handgun on the coffee table. She saw me notice it, and laughed.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I live alone and it makes me feel safe. I always keep it loaded, 9 millimeter hollowpoints… that’s the way to go.”
I smirked, “Cool, we’ll have to go target shooting sometime!”
“You have guns?”
“No, but maybe if you get me interested we can share a hobby.”
She sat down on the couch and turned the TV on, “Come on, sit down, don’t be shy.”
I sat down next to her, and put my hand on hers and we held hands.
I heard her whisper, “such a slow mover.”
So I grinned and said, “oh yeah?” and turned to kiss her.
We made out for a good 20 minutes, our hands began to probe – my hands on her tits, pulling her shirt up as she massaged my cock through my pants.
“Take your clothes off,” she said as she nibbled my ear.
I took all of my clothes off and she did too.
“Now, just sit there,” she said as she grabbed the gun. My hear raced.
“Missy…” I stammered.
“Fucking relax, chill,” she said as she sat on the couch naked. She began using the barrel of the gun to massage her clit, and then inserted the barrel into her pussy.
“Fuck…” she moaned, “mmmm I should cock it… my pussy loves cock.”
“Don’t cock it it’s a fucking loaded gun!”
“Cock me, babe…” she said as she pulled the gun out of her wet cunt and spread her legs as to invite me in. I was shook, she still was holding the gun, she was smiling at me and waiting for me to put my cock inside her. I was so nervous my dick started to go a bit limp.
“You need some help?” she asked.
“N-no,” I said as I mounted her, and pushed my cock slowly inside her. Her arms wrapped around me and I felt the cold steel of the gun in her hand against my back.
“Can you put the gun down?” I asked as my cock pushed inside her, “it’s making me nervous.”
She laughed, “damn, don’t be a pussy,” I felt her muscles clench my cock as if to tease me.
“Fuck me,” she panted.
I started with slow long thrusts and started to quicken the pace.
“yeah, just like that…” she said, placing the gun next to her on the couch – she then started to claw my back with her finger nails.
“Oh I like your cock. It feels way better than the cold steel of a gun… I like your gun way better…”
“yeah? I like your holster, it’s nice and tight, perfect place for my gun…” I said as my cock stiffened and got harder inside of her.
“I live dangerously,” she panted as I fucked her, “you are sooo hard! Oh fuck yeah!”
She grabbed the gun and put it in her mouth, licking her pussy juices off the barrel. I could see there was a loaded magazine in it. This chick was crazy. After she was finished licking the gun she put it back down and pulled me down to kiss her lips. With each thrust I could feel her tits jiggle – I could feel I was about to cum.
“Don’t you pull out of me, you hear me? Don’t you fucking dare pull out of my pussy!” She was demanding, almost angry. She bit my lip, as my cock plunged inside her deeper and deeper with each thrust.
“Shoot it in me baby, come on. Cum. Cum in my little pussy,” she begged.
I couldn’t hold my orgasm off, I filled her up – hot white milky sperm shot deep inside of her as I gripped on to her ass, my hands sliding between her cheeks and the couch cushions. I could feel the cum spraying with each intense pulsation of my orgasm, her legs wrapped around me, not letting me escape.
“Fuck that was good,” she said as she kissed my lips and I rolled off her. She stroked my chest with her nails.
“I’m yours now, ok? You own this body, I’m carrying you inside of me and we are one.”
I grunted, still recovering from busting so many massive nuts inside her.
“Oh you don’t fucking understand, I’m literally your bitch now,” she was raising her voice, getting angry.
She got up, and walked into another room, she came back holding a crystal up to her forhead.
“I can see your aura, you are pure,” she said, standing in front of me. I could see cum dripping from her pussy as she closed her eyes and held the crystal to her forehead.
“I give my body, and my soul to you, for I am the vehicle of your pleasure, it is the goddesses will.”
I have to say, it was kind of hot. She placed the crystal on my forehead, “close your eyes my love…”
I did, I played along with her just to appease her.
“Envision me, all of me – we are one!” She took the crystal and placed it on the coffee table and then started massaging my cock.
“Such a nice package you got there mister….” She put my limp dripping dick in her mouth and started sucking.
I quickly was hard again, her dick sucking skills were beyond anything I’ve ever experienced – it was at this point I realized that I didn’t give a fuck if this chick was bat shit crazy, the sex was great. As she sucked me off, I laid there and caressed her hair. She looked up at me, making eye contact and then stopped sucking.
“My pussy is so so so wet with your babies already baby…” then she jumped on me and mounted me, I slit right in, my cum that was already inside her dripped down my balls. She began bucking on me, riding my cock like a pro. Her breasts bouncing in my face, I grabbed on to them and started sucking.
“Oh yeah, suck them tits babe!!” she screamed as she bucked wildly on my dick. I could feel her once again clenching her pussy muscles, and then she lost it – she lost complete control over her body and she started to convulse wildly.
“I’m…CUMMING!!” She screamed. Her orgasm was intense, I’ve never seen a woman writhe around like she did, almost as if she was possessed – her eyes rolled back, her body shook, she screamed gutturally – and then she collapsed on me, shaking.
“I love you…” she whispered, breathing heavily.
I put my arms around her, my cock still inside, pulsating. She started moving her hips slowly, pushing my dick up and down, in and out.
“You gonna cum in me again?” she asked, almost shyly as she bit her lower lip in a cute way.
“I’m going to fill that pretty pussy up that you’ll be dripping for weeks,” I said.
She grabbed my neck, gently, “fill me up, own my body, take my body!”
We fucked for another good 20 minutes and I released more cum into her needy pussy.
She dismounted me, and we cuddled for the rest of the evening. I needed to work the next day and didn’t have a change of clothing. It was getting late, it was almost around midnight and I needed to be up at 5:30 AM.
“Thank you for such a great evening, I really need to get going I have to work tomorrow.”
She was silent. I started getting dressed and then Missy threw a fit.
“YOU CAN’T SPEND THE NIGHT WITH ME? You FUCKING OWN ME NOW and you’re abandoning me?!”
“No – I want to see you again, how about tomorrow we hook up?”
“WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW?” She said mockingly, “FUCK YOU. You’re all the same. I give you pussy, and you all run away.”
I was a bit shocked, but I knew I could handle this chick.
I walked over to her and kissed her, “Missy, you’re a fucking goddess. You made me so fucking happy, and I want more – I can’t wait to fuck you, to hold you, to learn more about you – but I have to work early in the morning, so I have to go.”
I groped her breasts, and then fingered her cum filled pussy, “I’ll still be with you, deep inside of you – you’ll be carrying me around with you all night.”
I took my fingers that had cum on them and traced her lips, “See?”
She smiled, “That’s a good fucking point…”
Her mood switched completely, she plunged a finger inside her and then licked it.
“You taste good… and yeah, you’re all up inside me… so I guess you are technically spending the night… but just inside me… ok. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I didn’t know about seeing her tomorrow, but I said, “Yes! Tomorrow we’ll have more time and more adventures!”
We kissed at her door and I left.
I woke up to go to work and saw that I had a billion text messages.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I need you.”
“I can’t get over how in love I am.”
“I’m addicted to you.”
“You complete me.”
“Nice cock.”
“I’m yours.”
“Do you even give a fuck?”
“HELLO?”
They just kept going on and on, they’d get dark and then they’d get all lovey dovey again.
I called her on the way in to work to see what the fuck was up, it was early and I fully expected to leave her a voicemail, but she answered.
“Hey! What’s up?” She seemed cheery.
“Everything ok?” I asked.
“Yeah babe, why wouldn’t it be?” She said laughing, as if she didn’t text me all night long.
“Just making sure. I’m glad you had fun last night! It was fun.”
“When I’m done with you, your balls will be empty,” she said erotically and then hung up.
At work she didn’t text me at all. I got home and noticed I had a dozen roses at my door with a package. I opened the package and it was some sexy boxer briefs that had roosters all over them that had printed “nice cock”.
There was a note with the roses that read:
“Dear Lover,
Imagine feeling the tug of someone’s soul, like a magnet. I am so pulled to you, and just want you to know how much I am in love with you. You are perfect, you are handsome – you’ve got that tall dark mysterious look going on and I love everything about it. When you entered me, you entered my soul – and we became one. I can feel you, I know you. I am all yours, there is nothing that can separate our two souls being together. You are my soul mate, and I know you can feel that too. We are meant to be.
Always yours,
Missy”
We barely knew each other. That’s what confused me the most, how was she jumping to these insane levels when we only went on one date? I started to have second thoughts, I knew crazy women were good in the sack, but I didn’t know if I wanted to deal with this level of craziness just for good sex. I decided I’d break it off, it was too much and I was getting nervous.
I called her up, “Hey Missy!”
“Babe! I was getting worried, my poor pussy is so lonely. Don’t neglect your lady…”
I ignored her, “Thank you so much for the flowers, you didn’t need to do tha-“
“Oh! I’m glad you liked them, I’ll be heading over to your place in a few minutes – see you soon my love!” she hung up.
I shook my head. This chick was fucking insane. I was kind of aroused by it. No one ever gave me this much attention, or made me feel so wanted. Not only that, she has beautiful tits and a body that is divine.
There was a knock on my door, softly at first but then it was pounding, then to doorbell rang over and over – I rushed to the door. It was Missy. Tears streamed down her face, and I opened my front door.
“What the fuck dude,” she sobbed.
“What?” I asked, wondering what the hell she was so upset about.
“All fucking day I don’t hear from you I got worried and I thought you found someone else and were fucking around on me!”
She moved past me, pushed past the door and started looking from room to room in my house.
“If I catch a bitch in here she’s going to get hurt. I’ll fucking hurt her. I don’t give a fuck.”
I sat down on the couch, I thought it was kind of funny that she was acting like this. I turned the TV on and let her roam around and do what she needed to do. I heard her rummage through my dresser drawers, moving furniture too. I just shook my head. I don’t know what got into me, maybe it was an attempt to piss her off or just see her reaction – so I loaded up the web browser on my smart TV and went to a well known porn website and searched for ‘lesbian porn’. I put it on and turned on my stereo system to make sure it was loud.
Two women were scissoring and moaning loud, Missy stomped into the room, her face red with anger.
“Fucking FUCK YOU,” she yelled. I got up and moved towards her, she seemed a bit taken aback.
I grabbed her by the throat, “You better calm the fuck down,” I whispered, the two women on the TV moaning in the background. Then I kissed her and shoved her down on the couch. My hands ripped her blouse off and exposed her bra, her eyes widened. It was like I wasn’t in control anymore, I found myself pulling off her pants, her underwear, and then her bra. My teeth bit into her nipple, and she let out a slight wince of pain. She started fumbling with my zipper and my pants – pulling them down. I bit into her neck, and sucked hard – making a bruise, marking her. Her hands gripped my cock.
“Yeah?” she moaned looking into my eyes, “yeah? You want this?”
I grabbed her by the throat again, not gently, but forcefully, and I started to squeeze, I jammed my cock in her cunt, I didn’t give a fuck – she wasn’t even wet so I gripped her throat harder and slammed my dick in.
She started gasping for breath and I released her, and then bit into her neck again.
“You’re mine!” I yelled, “I fucking OWN you!” My cock jamming inside her hole.
“YES!” she screamed. I bit her lip. She was getting off on this, so was I.
I grabbed her by the hair and turned her around doggy style – I saw her pink little anus inviting me in, so I spit on it and pushed my hard dick against her tight shithole.
“NO!” she panted, “I don’t do ANAL!”
I pushed her head down into the couch and slammed my cock in her asshole. She screamed, and it pushed me to violate her even more. I rammed my cock in her ass, she screamed in pain and then relented, seemingly almost passing out for how intense the agony was. She grunted as I held her down, pumping my thick cock in her violated ass. She stopped trying to fight it, and her body went a bit limp. I pulled my dick out of her asshole and slid it into her pussy.
“Fuck…” she said hoarsely. I slapped her ass hard, leaving a red handprint.
“You’re a bad girl, a bad naughty little slut!” I yelled at her, pummeling her cunt as hard as I could.
“Yes! I’m a bad girl!” she cried as I spanked her and fucked her.’
Her ass was bright red, even swelling a little from the strikes my hand left on her ass cheeks.
I pulled out, “Suck it!” I demanded.
She turned around and faced my cock, putting her lips on it. Her hair was done up in cute little short pigtails, and I grabbed them and pulled her in to face fuck my dick.
“I said suck it, you cunt!”
She started choking on my cock, tears swelling up in her eyes. I pulled out of her throat and mouth and sat down next to her – I had to get ahold of myself, before I hurt her.
“Hey…” she murmured, her makeup and eyeliner running. She was a mess.
“I-“ I couldn’t say anything, I just sat there looking at what I did to her. Her neck was bruised from my bite marks, her body looked so frail, she was shaking a bit.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, almost like she did something wrong. The lesbian porn continued on both women moaning as one of them started squirting.
I shook my head, “because I don’t want to hurt you.”
She moved in and kissed my lips softly, her hands clasped my face, “you’re a nice man… and I know I can be a handful. I have issues. I know I have issues.”
Her hands trailed my chest, and we looked into each other’s eyes.
“Fuck,” I said, turning away.
“I’ll leave… I’ll leave you alone, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said as she started getting up off the couch.
I grabbed her wrist, “It’s not that, it’s that I find you… fascinating. I crave your attention. I think it’s due to so many people just kind of ignoring me in my life. But you? You actually see me. You actually want me,” I said as she sat back down.
She leaned against me and put her arm around me, her attention was drawn to the TV, watching the two lesbians lick and suck each other.
“I fucked a girl once,” she said, “well, maybe twice.”
She sighed, “Maybe I should tell you more about me so you know what you’re getting into. You’re right, I am a whore, a slut. I’ve been with a lot of people, as a matter of fact you’re number 41. I usually get dumped on my ass pretty quick because I have trust issues and I get jealous for stupid reasons. I’m starting therapy – I actually called a therapist today, not just because I understand that I have a problem, but because I met you and I like you a lot, fuck I even was saying I love you… and I know that was way too soon. And the first time we were together I fucked myself with a loaded gun just to throw you off and confuse you, so you would run off scared like all the others – but you didn’t. You didn’t run. When you didn’t run I tried so hard to find a fault with you – and then my brain convinced me that somehow I was just a side chick to you. Hell I was even thinking you were secretly married. I may have a fetish for cum, and even being hurt – yet I don’t want to be. Sometimes the pain feels so good to me because it makes me feel human instead of being so fucking numb. And you… you make me feel real, and not numb.”
There was a long silence, and then I said, “I don’t care how many people you’ve been with – I think society puts that stigma on people and it’s stupid. Why can’t women have fun too? And I kind of have a creampie fetish,” I said, smirking, “and that pussy of yours is divine as hell… and you let me cum in it.”
“I’m going to try not to be the psycho everyone obviously warned you about, but I can’t promise I won’t fuck up from time to time,” she said, her hand gently touching my cheek.
I kissed her, and we made love. The lesbians on TV moaned in orgasmic delight as Missy shuttered and came on my cock. After I pumped her full of cum, we relaxed and talked more. We definitely came to an understanding that day.

I’ve been dating Missy for 3 years, we’re engaged now. She’s healed so much over the years – we now live together and are trying to start a family. She’s been off birth control for 3 months, and I’ve been seeding her pussy almost every day. There has been a few times when Missy lost touch with reality, but for the most part she’s been trying to enjoy her life with me.
I did tell her that if she had an itch to scratch, if she wanted another dude that she could have fun – but she just shook her head and said, “Your cock is the only one I want, but I might want to scratch my pussy on another woman… and you can watch if you want?”
“I’ll participate.” I said.
“Okay,” Missy said and kissed me, “I know the perfect person we can fuck.”
I grabbed her ass, “Damn, you’re such a slut!”
She winked at me, “Yes, but I’m your slut. I can’t wait until you meet Jillian! We have to get this shit out of the way before you knock me up!”
I laughed, “Jillian?”
“She’s my side piece,” Missy said.
“For how long?” I asked, not wanting to seem like I was jealous.
“For when I’m single and lonely, but I haven’t talked to her in 3 years… since we met. But I’m sure she’s down to fuck.”
“You’re not going to get mad if I fuck her?” I asked with suspicion.
“Babe, I’m going to be guiding your beautiful cock inside her while I lick her clit. One thing, you can only cum in me, ok? That cum is mine. Your babies are mine.”
“I’ll do this only if you want to do this, it’s all up to you – I just want you to be a happy woman.”
“I think if we have fun together like this sometimes it will be fine,” Missy smacked my ass, and then asked, “should I bring the gun when we fuck Jillian so I can stick it in her pussy??”
This might be continued… depends on reception.

Look for so woman in Chicago to suck my cock and fuck in public. Not afraid to be covered in cum and used.

I yearn for . . . no, I CRAVE the experiences that were had in times long past. Experiences and encounters in locations and venues that were almost always dark, often dingy and always redolent with the smell of sweat, sperm and sleaze . . . with some even having the intoxicating overtone of stale piss.
Those venues might be public toilets – often in parks and always late in the night – or bookshop backrooms – especially those with labyrinthine corridors made built from ply, painted black and featuring small booth-like rooms with vinyl mattresses on the floor or rough-hewn holes carved in walls at the height that a cock may be inserted. Dark warrens lit only by red light so weak you could hardly make out the bodies lurking ominously around the corners, waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting for you to walk past very slowly. No words were spoken. No permission sought. Fluids exchanged. When you’d slaked your thirst, you’d leave . . . and, by the time you got to your car – often parked a few blocks away, lest somebody recognise it and tie you to this place – you’d already be thinking that you could easily go back in for another encounter . . . or two . . . or three . . .
Or the location might be a grove of trees or dense shrubs in a park, or on a headland where families picnicked in the day as they admired the view and dreamed that one day they might have their house in such a place . . . indeed YOU might visit this same place the next day with your family and have in the front of your mind other, more prurient thought than your cousins, brothers, sisters . . . yes, and even wives . . . who lay on grass where you know sperm was spilled just the night before. “Come!” you say, beckoning them. “Come with me, let me show you something!” and you entice them through the well-trod tracks to the wind-swept cliff where, not 12 hours before, you emptied your guts into a stranger’s bowels.
And still at other times, the venue might be a sad, old cinema long past its prime, showing a never-ending stream of grainy 8mm porn. The cracked and torn leather of the seats sticking to your bare arse as you thrust your oh-so-very-strong erection upward toward the beckoning hand of the stranger alongside whom you have sat. His jeans rolled up around his ankles – just as yours are. His cock beckoning in the gloom as the gritty and grainy porn flickers on the screen. Both of you sit side-by-side, eyes affixed to the screen, but yet darting the left or right to catch a glimpse of his cock and marvel how it gleams and you wonder how it might taste . . . you reach toward it, his hips thrust upward giving you permission (not that you doubted it would be given) as he sucks in his breath when your fingers enclose the silken, soft skin around the bone-hard shaft that twitches and throbs under the touch of your hand. The skin feels softer, silkier, smoother than yours and you reflect on why it always does. You wonder if yours feel softer, silkier and smoother to all of those who have reached out as you are . . . but soon such thoughts are driven away as other, more compelling and irresistible thoughts erupt behind your eyes and you find yourself leaning over and wondering if (perhaps even hoping that) he will vomit his cock-snot into your mouth.
The best part of this rundown old cinema is the toilet. You head toward the green sign beside the screen, through a concrete-rendered tunnel for a few metres and into a room with a concrete piss-trough and a cubicle or two. There are no doors – at least not any more. There is no ventilation and the stench is overpowering, but you came here for this . . . you crave it . . . you live for it. In the piss-trough are countless fag-ends soaked with the rank, stale piss of dozens of others like you. There is a chain on the old concrete cistern that could flush, but you doubt that chain has been pulled for weeks – or even months. There is a very sad old faggot lying in the trough scooping the butts over his cock and into his mouth. He is, of course, naked and his floppy old cock no longer able to get hard. The skirt he wore lies beneath him but he still has his red stilettos on and he whimpers and begs you to use him as a toilet. You oblige, of course. Why wouldn’t you? And, as you relieve yourself into his pathetic, simpering, ugly face you wonder how long it is going to take until it is you that begs and pleads for exactly what this disgusting old faggot is begging for.
Why are all such places now closed? What has changed that makes them no longer viable businesses? I have tried, over the years, to encourage similar events in my home (post-divorce, sadly), but the atmosphere, the spontaneity, the rank, foul sleaze just cannot be recreated in a garage . . . and anyway, the amount of time spent advertising it, answering stupid questions of people who have no right to ask and sheer effort of preparing the space are simply not warranted for the one or two who do actually arrive.
And so now I yearn . . . no, I CRAVE the experiences I had back then and know that, if I could, I WOULD be that sad old faggot lying in the stench of the cold concrete piss-trough whimpering and simpering for all to use me as little more than what I have become.
“Take your photos!” I would implore. “Piss, Spit, Snot into my open mouth!” I would entreat. “Blow your cock snot deep into my faggot arse!” I would beseech. “No load refused . . . I don’t care!” I would growl in deep, guttural tones that echo the true state of my mind.

I have always loved to develop a woman, sexually, make her comfortable doing things, she wasnt ready to do when we met.

I did this on multiple occasions, sometimes with success, and many times this lead to the demise of my relationships, but every time, it was a fun ride.

For instance, my college gf, didnt like cum, but ended up as a cum hungry bitch, who would, in the end, be disapointed if we had sex without a cum play.

My ex wife, total prude, from being body self aware, to wearing no panties, sunbathing topless, and sucking and fucking in public parks, on parking lots, in the cinema...

My newest conquest is this divorced woman, my age (early 40s). Successful doctor, cardiologist, her marriage collapsed due to long working hours, so we started off as fuck buddies. Still slim, still hot, brunette, she got a boob job soon after we started messing around (and right after her divorce).

For a woman of that age, she is, of course, experienced, but like all, she had her weakness. When she was on top of me, I reached with my hand towards her anus, wanting to stimulate it with my finger, and she moved my hand.

It took me over a year, but gradually, I made her enjoy her asshole being used.

I started by licking it. It wasnt that easy, she moved away at first, but one time, I offered her a foot massage. She was on her stomach, as I massaged her, until she felt totally comfortable. I would move her legs aside, so that her pussy and asshole were visible to me. Moved my hands up, and started working her clit with my hands, while my cheek was pressed against hers. As she was close to orgasm, I moved in a way, that she could feel my breath on her asshole, and she started arching back, so I went for it - she came instantly.

This was a thing for a while, and the next step was the finger. By that time, I introduced dirty talk, and as she was on top of me, I was just telling her what a great cock rider she is, and pushed my finger in her mouth, asking her, if she is a bad, bad girl. She noded yes. Are you sure? Again yes. With my left hand, I moved her cheek to the side, she knew what was up, and as I moved my wet finger back, she followed it with her eyes, as far as she could. I didnt go in, just started rubbing the exit - she came like she was obsessed.

Then, slowly, things moved along. It was a finger, then two, and when I showed her the first but plug I bought, a small one, she smiled.

Soon enough, I was fucking her in the ass, and she loved it.

But that wasnt enough.

Again, she was on top, with a plug in her ass, when I decided to pull it out. She was moaning from joy, as I spread her cheeks wide, knowing her asshole is gaping back there. "you want a cock in your ass, right now, dont you?" Of course she did, so I put the plug back in, and again, she came like crazy.

The plug was substituted with a dildo, then a bigger one, until double penetration became something normal for us. And every time, I was telling her, that she needs another cock to be completed, and she would shiver in extasy.

The night I invited my friend over, after we were in a local bar, to join us at my place, while we were going up the stairs, behind him, I whispered to her "he is here to complete you".

She almost fell, but kept going up.

He knew why he is there, we did all sorts of things together, and this wasnt our first rodeo, so as soon as we came in, I started undressing her, and kissing her, and she was ready.

It was like when we practiced - her on top, only this time, it was another mans cock up her ass.

It was unbelievable.

Tomorrow morning, she told me, that it was great, but that she feels ashamed, and that we shall never do it again. I said ok, but I know that that was a lie.

Will keep you posted.

I want to be forced to suck cock forced to get fucked in the ass preferably by multiple people and in public

I know my husband has posted here for a while, he’s received some negative feedback which he should because he is nothing but a submissive faggot behind closed doors, he is the man around everyone else. I like that I can take that confidence away from him and use it as my power.

My confession is that I go crazy to force my will on my fag hubby. I enjoy the power I have over him and it’s not just sexual. I love that he will submit to me and he really does endure some extreme humiliation and sometimes pain or gaging when I stuff his fag mouth with an ashtray or shit. I love when hen struggles and when I think he’s hit a breaking point. I want to make him cry, begging for relief of some kind. When I tell him he is being called for duty I want him to beg me not too shit in his mouth or put my cigarette out on his sore little dick. I don’t want him to make love to me, or give up our lifestyle or anything like that. I just want to feel him break. I think if I get him to hit that point he will completely lose his masculinity he carries in public, his confidence he exudes naturally and his boisterous demeanor as the ultimate party guy will extinguish like blowing out a candle. I love doing the things I do to him, I do get off to the control and power. I masturbate thinking of new ways to break him. Almost all the time his little dick is bruised and or burned with blisters, burns, abrasions, and scars and seeing his damaged little dick makes me wet. When I am smoking I want to put my cigarette your on his dick, every time. When I’m using the toilet I want it to be him, it’s always on my mind. 

My confession is that my husband is a gay submissive sissy toilet ashtray scum. I am a dominant power hungry wife who much more wants to abuse his little dick and have myself sucked and licked tenderly as I release my waste, feel the power of inflicting pain and anxiety upon my submissive sissy hubby. 

I am 43, divorced, and about a year ago I started dating this pretty hot career woman. She is blonde, three years younger than me, never got married, making partner at her firm was her prime goal in life, and now, that she had finally done it, she wants to "settle down".

I was a bit reluctant, told her I am out of a bad marriage, that I need time, to get to know her, and cooled off all the marriage talk she gave me from the start.

It would be a red flag instantly, and I would get the hell out of there sooner, if the sex wasnt that good. I have had my fair share of experience, nothing special, have done a few things in bed, with a few women, but this one... Never been with a woman who fucks like a porn star.

Well, soon enough, I found out why.

She started talking about it from a far, you know, marriage talk was replaced by kinks, fantasies, etc, and we tried some of the stuff, like public sex, risky things, and eventually, she told me she used to swing, and that it might be interesting.

Who did she swing with, how this came to be, those were the questions I asked, and she gave me vague answers.

At this point "settling down" with her was out of the window, but curiosity got the better of me (and amazing sex), and I went down the rabbit hole of swinging.

I went to three parties - she was a celebrity there, everyone knew her. Even I got some "special treatment". First time we went, she immediately got one of her friends, a pretty good looking brunette, to "make me relax", and she lead me to a room, in which she gave me head. Great head.

When I got out looking for her, I found her in one of the rooms, on her back, with a man between her legs. I didnt stay to watch, got back to the kitchen and had a few drinks. She got back ten minutes later, and we stayed there for the rest of the night.

Sex got even better, to the point in which, I thought I was dreaming this whole thing.

Second time, we ended up in a room with a couple, about ten years older than us. She was a fragile, tiny blonde, cute face, but still looking old. My girl was sucking his cock, and I noticed, that it was the smallest erect cock I have ever seen, and the though of me power fucking the wife of a sausage man, made me go balistic, so I pounded her like there is no tomorrow. Husband quickly came on my girls tits, and then they both laid next to us, and watched. With a condom, I can go all day, so this lasted for a while, and it was hot.

For the third time, we started drinking heavily at the very beginning, and after a while I was like, fuck it, I am just gonna hang out tonight. She got lost at some point, since we both felt quite comfortable now, and I decided to look for her.

Found her in a room with a man she was with on the first night, decided to stick around. He was taking her from behind, and she was pretty vocal. Something looked off, so I came little closer, and saw that he was in her ass. She turned her head towards me, at some point, as I stood there like a lamp post, smiled at me with the most beautiful smile in the world, and as he proceeded to go harder, maybe even aroused by this non verbal interaction, she started screaming, while looking at me.

Later that night, when we got to my place, I fucked her for three hours, and it was the best night of my life.

After that, I broke it off.

That smile made me realize, that I love her, and I can not be a cuck.

Public park today, she end up sucking me off in a bush close to the path, familes on bike rides and walking the dog meters away, walked around with cum on her face after.  Any other naughty couples into public? 

She ate my asshole like it was her job. I mean, she really devoured the thing. She told me she 'Googled,' How to eat a mans asshole. Best advice she got was eat it like you'd eat a pussy. She'd done this before, and liked it, so she knew right what to do.

April was her name. We'd met online just weeks before meeting, and now there she was in my bed, about to go down on me. She was 54 at the time. Thin, long lush dirty blonde hair, huge tits, and very nice. She told me she'd been raped her whole life. First by her father, then her first boyfriend, and then her husband. When we met, her now ex-husband had just died and she was ready to move on. She was a hurt soul, so I let her have her way with me. I introduced her to new and exciting things, but let her choose 100% what she wanted to do with me. And what she wanted to do was eat all my cum, and suck on my asshole for days. I thought, okay, we can do that.

I don't know how, but I've always gotten the best woman, and they always do the naughtiest things for me. I think my favorite was the gal who drank my piss from the toilet by putting her head in the toilet and drinking it. She said it wasn't her favorite thing to do, but thanked me for it. I mean literally thanked me for my piss. Fucking, wow. Remarkable, truly.

April and I first met in a public park in Colorado where we both live. I was sitting at a picnic table when she came up behind me. A total biker chick, her bulging tits were packed tight in a small leather jacket zipped up half way, and black low cut t-shirt with sequins spelling out something like the word "Pink." She sat down next to me stalling the bench, and put her hand on my thigh. The first thing she said to me, I mean the very first thing was, "I kind of want to suck your cock right here." Man, I could have bent that fantastic bitch over where we sat. And if it hadn't have been for the kazillion kids and parents just twenty feet from us, I would have let her. I mean, even fifty feet and I would have considered it, but they were so close to us I was even concerned one of the mothers heard her say that. I guided her hand to my cock anyway, and let her rub me. We didn't do anything that day, but eat lunch and talk. If you feed a bitch a cock on the first day, she ain't coming back. And I wanted to see her again and again. So I restrained her on that day from eating the cum she'd expressly asked for.

The next time we met was in a remote location up a scenic dirt road. The tits came out, and so did my cock. Again we sat at a picnic table next to a beautiful river. It's always interesting finding out what a girl will do, what is her proclivity toward sex. And there are subtle indicators she will give you along the way. And if you are looking, paying attention, she'll tell you what she wants. April wrapped her mouth around my cock but through my jeans. That's a naughty girl. I cam in her mouth that day.

We spoke on the phone a bunch after that. Our conversations becoming exponentially more explicit, she told me she wanted to eat my asshole. I invited her to stay at my house for the weekend. Now don't get me wrong, I liked April. I liked her a lot. Contrary to popular belief, I wouldn't just let anyone play with me. In fact, I've turned down some smoking hot bitches before, because aside from being attractive, they were assholes. But what's more, they had issues they weren't willing to deal with, and that shit comes out one way or another. April on the other hand was fucked up and knew she was fucked up, and wanted to spend time with me regardless; getting to know me and enjoying each other's company. Now that's a woman. This other retard I once had the chance to fuck but didn't, begged me to do anything I wanted with her, so I went in for a kiss. She winced and told me she doesn't like that. That's not for me. Self awareness is what I'm after, and April was an open book.

She arrived to my house in a quad cab truck with a nine foot bed and ran over my garbage can trying to park that thing. This instantly endeared me to her. Bitch has no idea what she's doing, but she's trying like hell.

Her pussy was off limits to me. Not because she requested it, but too much trauma to just ram your cock in and begin fucking. She needed lubricating, and I don't mean KY. She needed to be able to express herself sexually how she wanted, on her terms, and like no man had ever given her the opportunity to do so before. She needed control, and I was happy to give it to her, or better said, give her space to do so. And as it turned out, April felt control with her tongue in my ass. Here we go!

I asked her if she wanted me to fuck her pussy. She told me maybe, but go slow. We never actually got there, but I massaged it a bunch, ate it and spit on it for her. I think she preferred that. But then she told me to come here. Here being my cock in her mouth. She swallowed it no problem. Told me she had gag reflex issues (I believe she was being humble) but I picked up on none. Just entire cock right down the hatch. And then she tasted my balls. She also smelled them which I thought was wonderful. I'm a clean man, a fit man, I take pride in my appearance. I'm also warm and inviting, and kind of cuddly and close. I like petting and kissing and compliments too. It doesn't hurt too that I have a wonderful cock, beautiful big and shaved balls, and a gorgeous asshole. I don't know what it is, but women like to eat my asshole. And most of them make themselves cum from doing so. Incredible! But April was no exception.

April ate my asshole for an hour. Taking breaks to smell and taste my balls, and lick my pre-cum when I made it available. I have this thing where I can slowly make myself cum a little at a time. I edge myself for hours if necessary. And women eat it all up as I do so. Usually while rubbing themselves down there. I love it.

But boy was she good at my hole. She spread that thing open and stuck her tongue in it. And then she began talking about food. "I'd like to spread it with whipped cream and berries," she told me. I had none. You'd think one might run directly to the store. But try pulling a tongue out of your ass to do anything else. It ain't easy. House on fire? It'll wait.

'What idiots,' I thought. All these years people have been taking advantage of her, and all she wants to do is lick your assholes. And so there she was talking to me about eating food off of my asshole. I almost couldn't think of anything better. My sweet clean asshole thought so too. So, gently I mentioned, taking it slightly one step further, eating berries Out of my asshole. She replied, "Do you have any?" Motherfucker, I don't!

April told me before arriving that day, she wanted two things; to eat my asshole and seven loads of cum in her belly. I gave her ten. Why seven, I asked. She chuckled, because it's better than six? That it is, my friend. That it is.

Life has a great sense of humor if you can think of it that way. I never did get to feed April food from my asshole. Things between us quickly took a different turn. She was going through a lot right then. I usually come into peoples lives when they're going through significant changes. I facilitate in that way their growth, and mine. I couldn't say I've never had a better ass eater. One bitch used to talk to it. Tell it she loves it in the first person while eating it. 'Bitch was hungry. Bt I believe April truly took it to a next level when she started coming up with different things she wanted to eat from my asshole.

She met a guy closer to her in proximity and age shortly after coming to visit me. I told her she should. She wanted me, but he was better suited for her. And we parted on good terms. Great, actually. She told me she'd call me if it didn't work out with him. I told her, anytime, my asshole is here for you. She told me next time it's macaroni salad!

Thx

Last night i.met a guy I'd been talking too online, we met publicly then I followed him to his house, this was my second time to suck a cock, we both were really nervous, both still really new at it, both of us are 55+, our conversations were basically all the things we want to do and both in 100% consensual, we didn't know what to do so we I took off my shirt shoes and shorts and there I was standing wearing a bright pink VS thong and look at his sexy little dick, he went and put panties on too and walked around the house for me showing off, we played for about an hour or so, taking turns sucking each other off and also did a little fingering

We both agreed that there will be a next time, we talked about anal and we both have had dildos in our asses but never dicks we both want it at some point but until then

My take aways from last night
I like sucking dick
Men in panties are sexier IRL than online
Little Dicks are just as much fun to suck as I hoped
I love a finger in my butt, can't wait for cock
I liked rubbing his dick on my face 

ROUND THREE / UNEXPECTED DAY THREE

Continuation of my Minnesota adventure: May 2024 [another very long post]

To recap:
I was visiting T, my 52-year-old long-time red-haired FWB, for the first time since October 2021. In the interim, she’d had major female surgery, put on some unwanted weight due to the anti-depressant meds she’d been taking (although she still looked amazing to me), and dumped a 20-y/o lover because “he came too fast, didn’t have a decent job, and couldn’t eat pussy to save his life.” I’d made the drive from Denver to her small town, located a couple of hours southwest of the Twin Cities, with the intent of doing what we always did. That involved catching up on news since the last time we were together, taking in concerts, museums and other attractions while spending the weekend in the Twin Cities, and having sex – lots and lots of sex.

I woke up around 7:30 Tuesday morning, following another three-hour fuck session that had wrapped up around two a.m. Because T babysits her two-year-old grandson every weekday afternoon, I had only planned to sleep over for two nights and then come back for her on Friday. She was dead asleep alongside me, with the covers pulled up over her head, so I left her alone and got dressed in the living room. Her car, a Ford Focus, had been running on fumes the previous evening, so I filled it up at the nearest gas station and then stopped off at a drive-thru for a bagel. Culinary note: I asked for the bagel to be toasted, with cream cheese on the side. Who the fuck toasts a bagel without slicing it first??? Sheesh.

Anyway, I returned to her place and was having my breakfast when T came out of the bedroom and plopped down beside me. I noticed she’d put on yoga pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt, which clearly indicated she was officially "not in the mood." She is NOT a morning person, and that includes morning sex. I offered her half my bagel, which she declined. She’s also not a breakfast person. “Are you sure you want to leave today?” T asked. “I thought we settled that on Sunday,” I replied. “I’ll be back Friday afternoon and we’ll spend the weekend in St. Paul.” She gave me one of those inscrutable looks that leave guys like me clueless. “Well, Donna is coming over for dinner. We do this every few weeks and, besides, she wants to meet you.”

Donna was one of T’s former coworkers, a tall Nordic blonde who’d succumbed to T’s bisexual charms during a blizzard in February and was apparently still infatuated with my red-haired Viking princess. “You can leave if you want,” T teased, “but you’ll miss out on a fun dinner.” Something told me that dinner wasn’t the only thing I’d miss by heading north, so I agreed to delay my drive by a day. Hey – I may be clueless when it comes to women, but I like to think I’m not an idiot!

We spent most of the day pretty much the same as on Monday, watching TV, reading, and having light-hearted conversation. After homemade bean burritos for lunch, I agreed to help her sort through her massive clothes collection that took up most of a second bedroom. It was a claustrophobic environment dominated by two huge dressers her grandparents had left to her. Piles of clothes occupied every flat surface, but the drawers were nearly empty. Our task was to divide the wardrobe up into Donate and Keep. I suggested the latter category was likely to include “fits me now” and “I hope it’ll fit again someday.” That remark earned me a not-so-playful punch on my arm, followed immediately by an offer to “kiss and make it better.”

For about two hours, I pulled out articles of clothing as T passed judgment on each item’s future. It was really humid, even with the a/c running, so she'd changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been cut down into shorts. Occasionally she felt compelled to try things on to see if they fit – some did, but many did not – which meant she was regularly showing me her tits while putting on blouses, and turning around to show off her lovely ass with each skirt or pair of pants we came across. There was hardly any floor space, so we were constantly bumping into each other. T was also being very tactile – stroking my arm, smacking me on the ass when I didn’t move out of her way fast enough, and delivering a series of random kisses. Finally, I got up the courage to ask about her behavior.

“You know,” I began apprehensively, “I can’t help but notice how affectionate you are. It’s like the old T has returned.” During past visits, she’d regularly initiated public displays of affection, but I never felt comfortable asking about this behavior – mostly because I didn’t want it to stop. “Why now; why me?” She froze with her hand halfway reaching for a hanger and turned to face me. “You really want to know?” she asked quietly. “Always,” I said. “I used to behave like this a lot, because I’m an affectionate person, but my actions kept getting taken the wrong way. Nearly every guy I’ve been with assumed I was coming on to them sexually, as in, I wanted to fuck them right then and there. You, on the other hand, never give me that vibe, because I know you truly care about me as a person, not just some sex object.”

I must have had a weird look on my face while trying to process what she’d said, because she stepped over the huge pile of clothes still on the floor and bumped up against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a seriously hard kiss on my mouth. The phrase, “You know I adore you,” escaped my lips before I could even think about what I was saying. In return, T took half a step back and countered with, “Well, if you must know, I really DO want to fuck you, but that’ll have to wait because it’s almost time for me to go be with my grandson.” With that she giggled, pushed past me to climb out of the room, and called back in my direction as she was putting on her sneakers, “I’m watching him over at their place, because I don’t want to inflict him on you two days in a row. I’ll be back around 4:30.” And with that, she departed.

At 5:00 there was a knock on the door, so I hopped off the couch and went to answer it. T had previously texted me to say she wouldn’t be home until six o’clock but offered no further details. I opened up to greet a tall, slender woman with close-cropped blonde hair and a narrow face, carrying a grocery bag in each hand. I said, “You must be Donna,” at the same moment she said, “You must be Zac,” and we both laughed. I grabbed the bags out of her hands and took them straight to the kitchen. Since T lives in a double-wide trailer (err, “manufactured”) home, the counter was a mere three steps away. I explained that T was running late, and Donna countered with, “Yeah, she called to tell me that while I was at the Hy-Vee (the local supermarket), so I should just get dinner ready without her.” I offered to act as a backup chef, so we both did food prep. The menu included cucumber salad with onion, sliced tomatoes drizzled with olive oil, beer cheese soup, a baguette of French bread, and strawberry ice cream for dessert.

As we worked, we chatted amiably. I was curious about T’s experiences while working alongside Donna, and she confirmed that the stories I’d heard about harassment were true. “She just seems to attract asshole guys,” Donna said with conviction. Then, as she realized what she’d said, added, “Well, not you, obviously.” I laughed and countered with, “The jury might still be out on that one,” but she was quick to disagree. “Oh, no. T says you’re the sweetest guy. She told me you filled up her tank yesterday.” I couldn’t resist the double entendre. “You mean her car’s gas tank, right?” Donna burst out laughing. “Yeah – that, too.”

But before we could delve into additional semi-smutty talk, T returned and gave Donna a big hug and kiss. “Did you rope Zac into helping you with dinner?” she asked. “He volunteered and did a great job cutting up the vegetables,” she replied. I’d suggested we do the salad Hungarian style, dressed with sour cream, vinegar, and a dash of paprika. Lacking a dining table, we took our plates and bowls to the living room – five steps from the kitchen (!!) – and ate at the coffee table. I parked myself on T’s leather recliner, while the ladies sat on the couch.

After dessert, I gathered up the dishes and offered to do clean-up, to which there were no objections! While I was washing, drying and putting things away, T dragged out her cannabis paraphernalia and the two of them were soon “dabbing away.” Donna asked if they should save some for me, but T put the kibosh on that. “He’s got too much of a tolerance for pot,” T explained. “We split a tube Sunday night, and he didn’t even get high. I don’t think it affected him at all.” I chimed in with, “Well, it made me horny.” T responded with a laugh. “Geez, Zac, you’re hornier than any guy I know, so it clearly wasn’t the pot talking.” Naturally, Donna had to come back with, “So, how horny was he?” There was some whispering that followed between the two of them, and I was too far away to hear the conversation, except for the part where Donna said out loud, “How many times?” and then followed with “Oh, my god.”

I wrapped up my KP duties and started back toward my seat when T piped up with a request. “Zac, honey – can you go pick up something for us to drink? We’re too wasted to drive.” I reminded her we still had that Smirnoff swill from the night before, but T said, “Oh, I poured that out. It wasn’t very good.” That was the understatement of the week! Donna suggested a bottle of wine so, after a brief discussion of white versus red, they agreed “red” was the best choice. I grabbed my car keys and left the two of them puffing away on the couch.

The same woman who’d helped us the previous evening was back behind the counter. “How was that Smirnoff?” she asked. “Looking for another bottle?” [That's the issue with small towns; everyone knows your business!] I told her it was the worst stuff I’d tasted since that shot of vodka I’d sampled in a Bratislava grocery store decades earlier. That got a laugh out of her, and we chatted for about ten minutes about our respective overseas adventures, until I suddenly remembered why I was there. Two minutes and $15 later, I was on my way back to T’s place with what was reportedly a halfway decent bottle of California Cabernet.

As I walked into her place, the lights were off and no one was up front. I set the bottle down and slowly felt my way forward. The bedroom door was closed, and the rest of the place was nearly pitch-black. Because of the harsh Minnesota winters and the lack of decent insulation in her place, T keeps all the windows blocked year-round, because “it’s too much trouble to always be redoing them.” It’s like a goddamned cave in there; you can’t tell whether it’s day or night without opening the door and looking outside. I had my hands outstretched to aid in moving ahead, but thankfully it’s a very narrow hallway with no obstacles. I put my ear to the bedroom door but couldn’t make out any sounds. I thought about calling out, but instead I retraced my steps to the living room, stripped down to just my boxer briefs, and returned to where I’d just been standing.

As quietly as I could, I twisted the door handle and pulled the bedroom door open. The first thing I noticed was a pile of women’s clothes lying on the floor. Peeking around the corner, I saw two naked women erotically positioned and illuminated by the dim bedside lamp at the far side of the room. T was lying on her back, her thighs spread wide and the fingers of her left hand making slow circles around her clit. Donna was sitting on T’s face, grinding away, while the palms of her hands were pressed flat against the bedroom wall, since T’s double bed has no headboard. Neither woman was being particularly vocal – Donna was breathing hard, but quietly, whereas whatever sounds T was making were being directed straight into Donna’s vagina. I took off my boxers and began to stroke my cock, which was quickly at attention.

I was being quiet, but Donna turned her head and caught me out of the corner of her eye as I was standing at the side of the bed with my cock in my hand. “Guess—who’s—back?” Donna managed to announce, in between gasps for air. T mumbled something that I couldn’t understand, but Donna was apparently skilled at interpreting mouth-to-pussy speech. “She wants you to go down on her,” Donna translated, so I wasted no time climbing onto the bed and hopping to it. I pushed T’s hand aside and wrapped my lips around her little button-clit. I sucked on it hard, which really sets her off, and then I shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.

Eighteen months earlier, when T had the first of two back-to-back vaginal surgeries, she was worried they would affect her “pleasure parts,” as she called them. But for the past two nights, I was a witness that she was as orgasmic as she’d ever been. Meanwhile, Donna was raking her crotch up and down T’s mouth, and I looked up just as T took the hand she’d been using on her clit and stuck her middle finger deep into Donna’s ass. “Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” I thought to myself. T was not a fan of anal play on herself, although she occasionally enjoyed it when I moistened my index finger and rimmed her butthole while simultaneously circling her clit with my tongue. She calls it “the double roundabout.” This was the first time I’d seen her finger-fuck another woman in the ass, although she’s never been shy about pounding a girlfriend’s other hole with her fingers. It didn’t take long for me to get T bucking and moaning, and I stayed with it until she exploded into a thigh-quivering orgasm.

After lifting myself up to catch a breath, I decided not to continue with more cunnilingus but instead mounted T, shoving my cock into her ultra-moist pussy. She made a half-hearted effort to push me away, but my 225 pounds was no match for her 140, so I stayed put. With Donna’s firm ass staring me in the face – she hadn’t dismounted from T’s face, despite already having had at least one orgasm – I balanced precariously on top of T and used my hands to grip Donna’s buttocks and spread them apart. Seconds later, she had the experience of two tongues on her, with one at each hole.

T mumbled something, with Donna apparently understanding her query, because she replied, “He’s got his tongue in my ass.” I sure did! But while focusing my attention on the shapely tush in front of me, I’d stopped fucking T and simply left my cock motionless, albeit balls-deep in her pussy. She seemed miffed by this lack of attention, because she responded by wrapping her legs around my thighs and humping up against me, fighting to attain yet another orgasm. Donna came with a grunt and a shudder, moaned, “Ohhhh, gawd!” and rolled off T’s face to collapse on the far side of the bed. Unfortunately, her unexpected dismount caused her knee to smack against the side of my head, and I think I might have lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, I’d rolled off T, having ended up on the same side of the bed where Donna had landed.

“Are you OK?” Donna asked, with concern in her voice. “Did I hurt you?” I pressed my hand to the spot where her knee had made contact with my skull. “No blood, no foul, I guess,” was my flippant reply, which was enough to elicit a hearty laugh from both women. It seemed like a good time to take a break, so I slid down to lie across the bottom edge of the mattress and laid my head on my outstretched arm. T said, “I think we could all use a drink,” and for once, I agreed that was a good idea. She climbed off the bed and slipped quickly into the kitchen, where we could hear her cursing because she couldn’t immediately find a corkscrew. I was torn between remaining in the bedroom and watching Donna play with her clit, which she was doing absent-mindedly, and following T into the kitchen to lend a hand with the wine. With the cry, “Zac – come here. I need you,” the decision was made for me.

I found T leaning back against the sink, the wine bottle in one hand and a fairly elaborate corkscrew device in the other. “I think I’m too high to figure this out,” she admitted, so I relieved her of both items and managed to extract the cork without damaging my hand, or my male ego. T looked absolutely delicious, nude with her pale pink nipples at full attention, her flushed skin accentuating the freckles on her chest, her red triangle down below curly and enticing, and the tang of pussy juice in the air. We stood there, wordlessly, for a few seconds – each checking out the other person’s body – until she reached out and wrapped her hand around my semi-tumescent cock. Then, she uttered a sentence any red-blooded male would love to hear in that situation: “I want to watch you fuck Donna, and then I’ll clean you both up.”

She and I have performed this act before, but the last time was pre-COVID. Back in 2019, while spending a fuck-filled four-day weekend in a St. Paul Airbnb, she’d picked up a waitress at the neighborhood pastry shop. We’d gone there for breakfast two days in a row, where during each visit T got more and more flirty with the young woman behind the counter. On Day Three, after telling me to pay the bill and then scram, she somehow talked Simone into coming over to our place once her shift ended at noon. Awaiting her arrival, T told me Simone was only interested in girl-on-girl sex, which was OK with me. And true to her word, Simone showed up on time, stripped off her clothes, and dove into T’s pussy as if she hadn’t had sex in months – which turned out to be the case. I sat on the sidelines, stroking and watching, as they both worked each other into multiple orgasmic frenzies. Taking a break, T said to Simone, “I’m thinking about sucking Zac’s cock, because I love the taste of his cum, but I’d like it even better if it came dripping out of your pussy.” Simone seemed more than a bit skeptical, until T told her that I’d do her doggy-style so she didn’t have to see me fucking her, and that I’d do my best to ejaculate quickly. Given the stroke job I’d been doing on myself the previous 30 minutes, that last part wasn’t going to be a problem. Simone agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and I took her from behind – a deliciously tight 22-year-old pussy that needed only half a dozen pumps to get blasted. T fulfilled her part of the bargain and even managed to make Simone orgasm one last time as my man-jizz ended up all over T’s face and then down her throat.

On this evening, however, there was no reluctant acceptance on Donna’s part. I carried three full wine glasses into the bedroom, distributed them accordingly, and then T announced the next stage in our hours-long fuck-fest. As soon as T explained what she wanted us to do, Donna and I looked at each other and asked, nearly simultaneously, “How do you want me?” That got all three of us laughing, but T had her own idea. “Do her missionary, Zac, so the cum won’t leak out before I gobble it up.” Thankfully I wasn’t drinking from my wineglass at that moment, because I would have probably done a spit-take onto her lovely striped cotton sheets. Instead, I drained the last of the liquid and handed my glass to T, who set it down on the nightstand closest to the bedroom door. Then I dove forward to shove my face into Donna’s crotch.

I’d caught her by surprise, but she didn’t voice a single objection, instead sliding her butt forward so she could lie flat on the bed. I tongued her slit for a minute or two – she tasted really good – and then hopped up onto my knees and guided my dick into her pussy hole. Donna reached up and pushed against my shoulders. I thought she was doing that to get me off her, but she only wanted to create enough room to pull her knees up and press them against my chest. This was actually a very effective fucking position for me, because her legs acted as a sort of spring against which I could thrust and retract. She supplied at least half of the motion, and I was able to hang onto her knees for leverage instead of having to use my arms to bear the weight of my body.

We built up a good rhythm, with lots of heavy breathing on both our parts. Meanwhile, T was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, finger-fucking herself with an in-and-out motion that matched my own pussy pounding. Just as T said to Donna, “Don’t be surprised, but he sometimes takes a while to come,” I froze on the downstroke as my cock pumped three or four streams of cum deep into Donna’s pussy. All she said was, “Done?” and when I could only nod my head, she used her legs to push me off her while holding her ass up off the bed. T swooped in and dove for the gusto, first licking up the drops of cum that had dripped off my cock as I withdrew, and then using her fingers to dig deep for the rest of the load.

I managed to stand up at the foot of the bed, knees sagging a bit against the edge of the mattress to maintain my balance. T was really slurping up what I’d left for her, and I jacked my dick a bit as I watched. Having completed her task on Donna, T spun around and licked me clean. “Fuck, that was fun!” she exclaimed, and then guzzled down the rest of the wine in her glass.

We’d easily passed the three-hour mark, and I was exhausted. The ladies climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom, while I flopped down onto the mattress with the aim of slipping off to dreamland. T had other ideas, however. “Hey,” she called out, which awakened me from my near-slumber. “Donna’s staying over, so you’ll have to camp out on the couch.” I began to object, but my argument fell on deaf ears. “There’s just no room, Zac. Sorry. You’ll find an extra pillow and a blanket in the room where my clothes are.” I passed Donna on my way down the hall, pillow and blanket in hand. She’d stopped off in the kitchen for a glass of water and patted me on the ass while I was setting things up on the couch. I straightened up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she put her hand gently on the side of my face – coincidentally, the same side where she’d kneed me earlier – and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning, OK?” she whispered. I thanked her for an amazingly fun time, which got a shy smile from her before she returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

I’m sure I fell asleep within minutes of stretching out on the couch. At six-foot-zero, I had just enough room to lie on my side (my preferred sleeping position) with my knees slightly bent. Even so, my head was pressed against one arm of the couch, and my feet rested up against the other one. Many hours later – I had no idea of the time, since the windows were blocked and my iPhone was in the other room – I was awakened by something stroking my lower leg. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I imagined it was my cat, Jemima, since she rubs up against me every morning as if to say, “Hey, human. It’s time for my breakfast.” So, when I opened my eyes to see Donna perched on the edge of the couch, as naked as she’d been the night before, I regained full consciousness damned quickly.
She put her finger to her lips and motioned for me to slide over. As skinny as she was, there was still hardly any room to accommodate her lying next to me, so she ended up mostly on top, one knee between my legs, her well-trimmed crotch pressed against my hip, her breasts against my chest, and her mouth a mere inch from mine. “I know T isn’t into morning sex,” Donna said in a very low voice, “but I hear you’re quite the fan, right?” I agreed and lifted my head up so I could give her a good-morning kiss. She slipped her tongue into my mouth while reaching down and wrapping her fingers around my rapidly rising cock. “Mmm, morning wood is the best wood, don’t you agree?” she teased. She squeezed me gently, and we continued to make out as she ground her pussy against my hip bone. Once she determined I was sufficiently erect, Donna threw her leg across my body and straddled me effortlessly. “You were on top last night, so now it’s my turn,” she said. Before I could object – not that it even occurred to me to do so – she had my cock all the way inside her pussy and was rocking back and forth on it with gusto. I reached up and tugged on her small nipples, which were like rock-hard cherries, and she worked her way into two very quick and enthusiastic orgasms.
Donna climbed off after her second orgasm but recognized I hadn’t had one. She teased me a bit with her tongue on the very tip of my cock, pushing my hands away as I tried (unsuccessfully) to engage her mouth more fully. “Be a good boy and put your hands behind your head,” she instructed, “or else I’ll leave you to take matters into your own hands.” At my age, I wasn’t sure how much cum I could muster, given the prodigious amount I’d pumped into her pussy just six or seven hours earlier, but any blow job was better than no blow job. [I think I read that saying needlepointed on a pillow, once.] Donna continued to tease my twitching cock, using only her tongue and resting her hands on either side of my body for balance. She must have toyed with me like this for 10 or 15 minutes before finally relenting and taking my dick all the way into her mouth. Her tongue action continued to be amazing as she bobbed her head up and down only slightly. Still, it was enough of a turn-on for me that I managed to ooze out a bit of cum as I orgasmed. Donna gave me a pretty smile, climbed off the couch, and said she was heading to the shower. “You could probably use one, too,” she insisted, so I joined her under a thin stream of warm water and soaped up her body as she returned the favor. We didn’t get into anything more sexual, but I truly enjoyed the mutual contact.

T climbed out of her bedroom about an hour later, already dressed for the day in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Donna and I were sitting on the couch, a respectable distance away from each other, as we watched a local TV news show. T greeted each of us with a kiss and then went into the kitchen to brew herself a cup of tea. Upon her return, she squeezed in between us and stretched out her legs so her feet rested on the coffee table. Looking at each of us in turn, she asked, “So, did you two have a nice morning fuck?” Before either of us could answer, though, she leaned over and kissed Donna on the mouth. “Thanks for taking one for the team,” she giggled. “You know I’m not into pre-noon dick.” I shot back, “I guess I'll set my alarm for 12:05 then.” T stuck out her tongue at me and said, “You’re leaving for St. Paul as soon as you get packed, and Donna will help me with my clothing once you leave.”

After that comeback, I had nothing more to say, so I placed my pjs and my shaving kit into my suitcase and headed for the door. T forestalled me as I passed through the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a sensuous hug. “I’ll see you on Friday, lover,” she breathed into my ear, and moments later I was in my car. My final, fleeting thought as I drove down Broadway toward the highway was, “Well, I think my tongue AND my cock can use the three-day break.”