I'm a 22 year old girl, I think I might be a porn addict or something. I'm horny so often and I spend hours edging myself every day. I have a bunch of taboo and fucked up fantasies like incest (though not with any of my actual family members), rape, drugs, drunkenness, age play, older men etc. I know I despise any toilet stuff or like, actual violence(though I def love more hardcore sex). I know im definitely submissive and I'm the younger/innocent/victim in all of these. My issue is that I've have one drunk hookup after a nights out and that's literally it. I've made our with some guys at parties but that's where my real life experience ends. 
i know this will never lead to meeting up with someone in real life, I'm in Sweden,  but if you wanna send me fucked up fantasies, or dick pics or whatever I'd honestly love that, and know I will be reading/watching/fantasising with my vibrator to them!

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!

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!

Ebony family taboo

True Story! About a year ago I was at my aunt's place for a family BBQ having a few beers when I noticed my aunt kept making comments about needing to get laid or about sex in general and that turned me on alot. Later that night when everyone was asleep I snuck into her room and laid next to her to try get a feel of her ass or boobs which were great but then I couldn't help myself I was too aroused and I reached under her night gown an started fingering her pussy. It didn't take long after that an she started to wake up but all she did was roll over to face me and kissed me. Then we proceeded to have the best sex of my life. We continued this a couple times after and we are blood related and she let me fuck without a condom every single time. It was the hottest experience of my life keeping such a secret knowing how taboo it was

Hello fellow perverts as well as completely normie people who just happened to run into my post by some bizarre coincidence. Today I'd like to talk to you about my formicophilia kink which is the use of insects, bugs and other small creatures such as worms and snails for achieving sexual pleasure. In my case, it's all about ants and snails.

In my post I'd like to answer some questions that are likely to spring up inside your head on learning that someone could be into something this strange and bizarre, namely:

1. How did it start?
2. What does it feel physically?
3. Can it result in an orgasm?
4. Is it safe?
5. Isn't that some form of animal abuse?
6. What does it feel like to be into something like this?
7. Am I actually attracted to ants and snails?

So let's start with the beginning. There wasn't a single moment in my life leading up to or proceeding the discovery of my formicophilia fetish when I'd think "wow, these bugs are so sexy, want to have sex with them". Nope. It all came down to simple curiosity. On one sunny day probably back when i was still a teen I just happened to look at a random trail of ants and asked myself a very important question: "What would it feel like to have my penis bitten by an ant?" By that time I was already very cold-headed about sexual stuff and by that I mean, I wasn't particularly bothered by the fact that the thing I was considered doing could be viewed as crazy, disgusting or anything like that. I was like "it's just some ants, whatever". I should also mentioned that prior to this moment, I probably didn't even see any formicophilia related video on the internet and I had really no particular expectations. I was certainly allowing the possibility that I'd end up completely disappointed.

So, being a determined to satisfy my curiosity I collected some common black ants into a small jar and soon after that I found myself with the tip of my penis stuck halfway into the jar. The ants started to bite my glans almost immediately and... it felt ok. Nothing too painful but nothing spectacular either. It was however good enough for me to realize that there may be something more into this.

After that I started experimenting with new species, including ants that are bigger as well as those that sting. As you can probably guess by the fact I'm still into this, the results were much better. How much better?

This leads us to answering the second question and let me start by saying that nothing has ever brought me so close to the tears of pure joy in reaction to a physical pleasure as having my penis bitten in just the right way by a single ant, less than one centimetre in length. I kid you not, when that happened I realized that everything I knew thus far about my sexual organ and how sensitive it is was false. It was like I unlocked the next level of sensitivity in my penis and everything I experienced up to that point was just a boring warm-up. It's the sort of experience you just want to share with people, telling them that everything they thought they knew about the world thus far was wrong...

But ok, that's an extreme example, it happened only a handful of times and didn't last long enough to make me cum which is very unfortunate.

On average though, it's still an extremely pleasant and stimulating experience. You know, ants have mandibles that are riddled with small, sharp, pointy spikes and it's those spikes that are so amazingly good at stimulating the nerves inside the sensitive tissues of human erogenous zones. When they bite, it's like you're getting pinched in a way that's design to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

As for the stinging ants, these that I tried hardly bite at all and it's all about them stings. And let me tell you, they're just as well adapted for bringing humans sexual pleasures as the biting species. I don't consider myself a masochist and I'm very pain averse, but the feeling produced by having my glans stung by a red ant is nothing like pain to me. It's just a pure pleasure spilling all over my organ, activating all the nerves that normally stay dormant. It takes just one sting to give me a ranging erection and cause my penis to drip pre-cum uncontrollably. It also turns up my sensitivity levels all the way up to 100 making everything else feel better too and not just for a moment but for days so even the regular masturbation with my hand becomes a much more intense experience.

Now, you may be wondering can biting or stinging make mu cum on it's own? The answer is a resounding yes, at least when it comes to biting. I already mentioned that one example of being brought to the verge of orgasm by a single ant but who said we have to limit ourselves to just one ant. Unless I'm in a very remote area which I know no people ever visit, in which case I may decide to have some fun out in the open, I usually collect ants from an anthill into a plastic bag and then take them to my place where I usually apply them one at a time making sure they're all biting nice and deep. However, on at least one occasion I decided to stick my penis inside that ant filled bag (filled may be an overstatement, probably less than 20 ants in there) and within less than two minutes, their bites made me cum, completely hands-free (no skin pulling at the base or anything like that) without any prior stimulation. That was sweet. As for the stinging species, I've never came just from the stings but it felt really close at times. But to be honest, I still haven't experimented with all the possible variations just yet, for example there is this one species with which I only ever played outside but perhaps if I brought it home and was more strategical about application the results would be better leading to an orgasm.

As for the safety, I think there is essentially nothing to fear. Ants are pretty clean animals because the safety of their colony depends on there being no fungi or parasites. Also, the species that I use are too small to possibly break the skin.

The biggest risk is probably overdosing that is, using too many ants at the same time which can be rather unpleasant. I did make that mistake with both the biting and stinging ants. In the first case, inspired by one video I've seen posted here on Motherless, I literally put my penis on top of an anthill that was swarming with ants but that quickly proved to be the wrong choice as instead of getting bitten, my dick got mostly sprayed with formic acid and since I've got no kink for that, it wasn't fun. This ended up with some skin peeling off of my penis. Just to be sure though, that was a very superficial damage that didn't really cause any real pain or discomfort, it simply looked a little bit ugly for a couple days.

As for the stinging species, turns out filling up my shorts with angry ants wasn't such a good idea and after a couple of steps my dick and area around it was in a very serious pain.The swelling and itching that followed was also rather unpleasant. Here I should note though, that swelling only occurs when you overdose the stings, you can actually take quite a few without any noticeable swelling, especially to the glans themselves. I also tried getting my nipples stung and there wasn't much swelling to talk about either. Not sure what the effects on the clitoris or labia would be but it can't differ too much.

So yeah, if you let the horniness take over, you may suffer a little bit, but that is probably applicable to all sorts of sex related activities. Of course, there is also an issue of potentially being allergic to certain substances in ant's venom but that goes for everything too. I should also stressed that after all the times I played with ants, there is no visible scaring, loss of sensitivity or any other unwanted side effect.

Ok, so now let's talk about snails, like the one you see in the picture attached to my post. First of all, how did I get started with snails? Here the reason is a little bit different as I was already into formicophilia by the time I learnt about using snails for sexual stimulation and it all started with some random videos I found on the internet. If you type "snail porn" into google and search by pictures, or videos you'll find the links the the same videos that were inspiration for both my kink and eventually led me to post my own content.

My first attempt was with a very tiny garden snail with a shell probably 1.5 cm long. After seeing giant snails used in those videos I mentioned earlier, I had little hope of getting much out of it but boy, was I wrong. Almost immediately after placing the snail at the base of my penis I started feeling something stirring up inside me and the higher the snail climbed alongside my frenulum, the more intense the feeling was. I was basically at the verge of cumming but for reason I don't remember very well now I decided to remove the snail from my skin. Had he crawled over my skin for just 5 or 10 extra seconds, I would have ejaculated for sure, hands free at that.

However, for the reasons I'll discuss later I wasn't feeling comfortable using wild snails found outside plus I really wanted a big snail on my penis which in turn led me into getting myself some pet Giant African Snails which in case you're wondering, are very easy and cheap to maintain although if you're living in the States, they're illegal there since they're considered an invasive species. Fast forward to today and I'm using my pet snails for sexual stimulation regularly.

If I were to describe the feeling I'd use adjectives such as wet, messy, relaxing, subtle and gentle. In a sense giant snails are the opposite of ants because where ants apply a very concentrated pleasure into a very small area in a pretty sudden manner, with snails, it's all much more spread and sublime.

Perhaps the biggest testimony of how nice it is to have their smooth bodies tightly glued to my penis is the fact that they make me cum on a regular basis and all it takes is for my to hold my dick slightly at the base. The lovely part is how gradual the buildup towards orgasm is while using them. When it comes to sex I live by the rule that it's always best to do things as slowly as possible and snails are just perfect in this respect, in fact they may be better than anything else I ever tried.

Now, as far as the safety is concerned, the reason why I opted for pet snails that were born in captivity is because upon doing my research on snails prior to using them I discovered that they can actually carry some parasites. Pretty much all articles I've read indicated that the only mode of transmission worth worrying about was a direct digestion of the snail itself but I still didn't feel comfortable letting the slime of a wild snail drain down my urethra so that's why I chose to keep my own snails instead. This pretty much ensures that they can't come into contact with any nasty parasites, and in case there were any, they'd die, since snails are merely intermediate hosts.

I bet there will be some people claiming that it's still dangerous but for me personally putting a snail on my dick seems much safer and hygienic than eating raw meat, letting a dog lick my face, or engaging in anal sex that can literally result in feces being forced down the urethra.

Now you may thinking that "wait a moment, isn't that some sort of animal abuse?!".

Let's start with ants because in their case the matter is basically settled already. Ants are simple insects and according to science they're unconscious, little, biological robots programmed to survive and reproduce. They do not have sentience. An ant has no conscious desire to live or to avoid pain, it's just acting according to its evolutionary programming. Ants are in this sense no different than grass or viruses or even plastic toys really and the fact ants are alive has no influence here because life is not a magical property by any means. In other words, you could just as well argue that stepping on the grass is also an abuse and thus immoral.

With snails, the matter is almost equally simple because despite being much bigger in size, they don't have brains and they're believed to be unconscious as well. Is there like a 0.0000000000001% chance that maybe my snails do have some sort of primitive consciousness and they don't like when I'm putting them on my dick? There may be. But it would be ridiculous to suggest that I should respect that probability so much so as to stop using them because by that logic, that is, if we agreed that even the tiniest risks (in this case, the infinitesimal chance that my snails are feeling some sort of primitive discomfort) should be considered more important than the benefits (in this case, giving me, a human, a conscious being a great deal of physical pleasure) we'd live in a perpetual state of paralysis unable to make any choices. Furthermore, it's not exactly possible to force snails into doing anything because if they're really unhappy, they can simply hide inside their shells or refuse to stick to a given surface. So it's probably safe to assume being on my penis isn't exactly the end of the world for them.

Lastly, I think any person attacking my fetish on the grounds that it's immoral or unethical should first have a look at the real source of animal abuse which is the meat production. Most people eat waaaaay more eat than they need to survive or to stay healthy even though they have access to and can afford switching to a green diet. They just like the taste of meat or are too lazy to change their habits. What I'm trying to say here is that if you're fine with your friends eating meat even if they don't need to, and you think that's fine, then you have absolutely zero grounds for thinking I'm doing anything wrong.

But it's not that I think I'm doing something that is merely less wrong than the thing someone else is doing even if that other thing is worse by many orders of magnitude (commissioning the killing of a cow with a high capacity for consciousness vs putting a snail, an organism with probably no capacity for consciousness on a penis). I don't think I'm doing anything wrong at all.

This brings us to the last question which I think people may have which is how I feel about my own fetish. Do I feel guilt, shame, would I get rid of it if I could? Or maybe I'm somehow proud of it? The answer is, it's alright. I'm not proud of something I had no real influence over, I didn't choose to enjoy having my dick bitten by ants or covered in slime by snails. And I don't feel shame or guilt. Like I said, I don't think I'm doing anything even remotely wrong on moral terms. I also don't think it's dirty or disgusting, I think anal sex is genuinely much more gross than whatever I can possibly do with ants or snails. And I wouldn't get rid of my kink even if I could. How would that even look like? Suddenly they'd make my penis insensitive to the bites? That sounds more like making me objectively worse off.

It does feel a little bit nice though, knowing that I'm experiencing something that so very few people in the world have the opportunity to experience. The fact it's such a taboo and forbidden fruit arguably makes it even more hotter.

We're nearing the finish line so let me just stress once again that I do not feel attracted in any way to insects or snails. I never look at them in a way that is similar to the way I look at attractive women. Instead I view them more like object or tools, similar to the way I treat sex toys. Yes, they're alive but that really isn't as important as some people think it is. Being alive simply means the machinery is working and can produce new machines. The relevant part is consciousness and capacity for it which both ants and snails lack which means it justifiable to treat them in the same way as inorganic matter. When i discovered that ants and snails can be use to achieve sexual satisfaction it was like when I first used a fleshlight or a vibrator. I didn't fell in love with those toys, it's just that now I'm aware of what they're capable of. I'm saying this not because I think actually finding insects attractive (if there even are such people) is something to be ashamed of but to show, that you can use and enjoy them regardless of that.

Actually, I'd lie if I said I didn't think that people should give formicophilia a try. At the worst you'll get to experience something unique, at best you'll discover a new form of pleasure that will be at your disposal for the rest of your life. I'd especially recommend formicophilia to all BDSM people. If you guys and girls enjoy beating, crushing, strangling, whipping, piercing and all these other things, then I see no reason why you shouldn't enjoy playing with insects, not just ants, but I think ants are the best and perfect for beginners. In general, any self-respecting sadist or dom should consider using ants on their partners.

Lastly, let me also note that overall I'm just a guy, I study, I have a functioning family, friends, as well as many other hobbies and interests. Formicophilia is just a small part of who I am. I mention this because all too often kinky people are viewed with the assumption that their kink is what fundamentally defines them, that it's somehow their essential characteristic and everything else is just build on top of that. But that's just pure nonsense to me. If you meet me in the real world you'd never guess what I'm into unless I just told you. The same applies to all people.

I hope that proved at least somewhat interesting. Feel free to ask me questions regarding anything, especially if you're unconvinced by anything that I wrote. And if you want to see more examples of formicophilia in action, feel free to visit my profile since I'm going to upload my stuff regularly, for the foreseeable future.

Looking for others in Pittsburgh area into family taboo. If you’re a woman (60+) into mom/son or roleplay it’s a plus :) looking for chat friends to share experiences and fantasies. 

So I did something pretty bad I guess. Sometimes I get really high and then I come here. I'm really into the taboo stuff. Anyways One time I thought it be a good idea to send my younger cousin a dick pic. Anyways that whole side of the family knows... totally awkward
I guess I thought she might be kinky cause she always posting naked photos.

My sister in law ... wife's sister ... was goofing off yesterday at the river. We were the only two of our bunch that went early to set up RVs and get the boat out.
I was surprised that she sent me that photo, but got hard thinking of the taboo circumstances. We put the pontoon in the water and went to the island near the other side of the lake to check out the picnic area.
I mentioned the pic and she grinned and told me there's more to see if I wanted. We had been drinking Coronas in defiance to the lockdown and we're pretty buzzed.
I jokingly said " yes right" and without hesitation she pulled her tee-shirt off and to my surprise she had already removed her bikini top!
After an awkward minute off making out like teenagers she went down to my cock and licked and sucked until I blasted my load down her throat.
W
I could hardly stand up, but went for her short shorts when she stopped me and said " We got all weekend. Let's make it fun." Well the rest of the family showed up after and she flirted with me all night with nobody having a clue what was going on. I woke up hard as a rock and my wife rolled over, still drunk, and fucked me silly till we both came.
Can't wait for the rest of the weekend!

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

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

Most of the shit we read here are not "confessions" but "fantasies". Well, this isn't.

I had recently divorced, I was 32 at the time. My ex-wife had not the same sexual drive I had so I was out of control when I was finally free from her.
I lived in a big city and had not been to my home town in a while, so I decided to pay the family a visit. It would help my shake the depression I had. To my surprise, by the weekend I visited, some other relatives were, so we set up a party, nothing wild, just some drinks and a feast.
Not sure how, I spent the whole day flirting with my 19-years old cousin (we're a big family and I'm the 3rd grandchild on that side of the family, so I have A LOT of younger cousins, male and female). I hug her and grabbed her boobs, but she said "not here; come pick me up at mom's tonight at 9".
So I did and we wasted no time in making up, but she said "take me to a more private place". We drove to a motel and got into action as soon as we walked the door.
My god! She was so good at sex to be that young! she's a great cock sucker and and a very memorable fuck.
I kissed her like I never kissed anyone before, I sucked her nice, perky tits and went down on her full-bush pussy. It tasted like glory to me. The taboo feeling of what we were doing was just to much to me, so I started saying "do you like this, cos? Do you like being my sexy little bitch?" and she got mad, yelling not to calle her "cos" but calle her by her name. Didn't mind, I kept fucking her and it was the best fuck I've ever had!
The downside is she left me some hickies on my neck and chest and they were so difficult to hide!