I’m a 29 married mom and I’ve been fucking my boss. He’s 42 married and has kids. 

One night we went out with a few people from work. We have flirted a bit over time but this night was heavy on the flirting. It was a late night and as soon as the last person left his house, my boss turned to me and grabbed my ass. Grabbed me by the back of the neck and kissed me. Eventually we went to the living room and he made me suck his big cock. And it was definitely big. He wanted to go down on me and ate me till I came twice. Then he bent me over and started fucking me doggy. Hard. 

we did it all over the house. When he was ready he creampied me. About 15 mins later I figured I would go but he wanted more. He started fucking me again and eventually gave me a big facial. 
I went home at like 4 am with cream in me and on me. It was so hot. 

I thought that would be it. But we ended up sending sexy texts and pics back and forth. One day at work told me to wear a dress the next day so I did. I came in and shit the door. He flipped up my dress and started eating me. Eventually he bent me over his desk and creampied me again. I went back to work with it dripping down my leg. 

we did it one more time. He had a party and his wife passed out. After everyone left I stayed and sucked his dick in his kitchen. Then he wanted to put it in my ass and I let him. He came on my face again. Then told me he’d put it in his wife later that night. He sent me the proof. 

I can’t wait to fuck him again. 

This is not a partisan post. Democrats, Republicans, Independants, Socialists, Libertarians, Communists, everyone will be interested in this:

-Why has the Democratic National Committee removed the statement that Jerusalem is the Capital of Israel from their platform?

-Why does Obama say that the USA, "is no longer a Christian nation"?

-Why did Obama refuse to support the student uprising in Iran?

-Why did Obama then send troops into Libya, & Egypt only to have the Muslim Brotherhood take over politcs in those countries?

-Why is it that the Israli Pres. was only allowed to access to the back door of the White House upon his visit?

-Why did the White House leak, on purpose, the Top Secret plans of Israel regarding nuclear weapons being assembled in Iran?

You make like this personally, you may dislike it, but one thing is certain...this is the truth. The answers are here, see it before its taken down. It will be an education:

youtube.com/watch_popup?v=tCAffMSWSzY#t=28

What's worse? We were warned about it 45 years ago:

youtube.com/watch?v=P3hY1eagq88

Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!

Hi everyone,

anybody can name that pornstar?

Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

Some picures I look at seem to be crying out for a gag! This just up my street when I'm feeling frisky or bored - which is most of the time!
My acknowledgements to Randy Dave for his erotic Amanda cartoon - color by moi!
Let's see if folks will upload humorous captions! It's not a competition, so everyone's welcome...
And do hope you like my attempts..

Julie called last night to tell us she was engaged. We both saw it on Facebook but she really wanted to tell my wife. The fiancee was headed out that night on a business trip and she wanted to go out and celebrate. So I became designated driver. Bar talk was the typical "what's been going on over the past 2 months". Sort of weird since everyone sees everything on Facebook these days. At some point it turns to our old jobs (we all used to work together). Then we get to the stories. Blah blah blah. At least my cokes were free since I had the keys. I was about 6 cokes in, 3hrs later, and pretty sure both women were blitzed. My wife kept giggling, which made Julie giggle, and the cycle would just repeat. No one slurred words, so I was hoping the hangover would be mild. I told the bartender to watch them for a moment, grabbed the keys, and moved the car near the door. With his help I got them both in. They could walk, I was just being overly cautious. My wife wanted the back seat. She got in, buckled, and pretty much laid down for the ride home. Julie took the passenger seat and we were off. I figured since they were both blitzed we'd just head to our place. Julie could crash on the couch and we'd take her home in the morning.

Like I said both women were pretty blitzed. My wife was asleep within minutes. Julie giggled a bit more, looked back at my wife, then put her hand on my lap. She rubs back and forth a couple times and then says my wife's a lightweight. I tell her she's blitzed too and she giggles even more. Her hand slowly goes from rubbing to unzipping. I start to protest and she giggles a little more then leans over. Rubbing, to unzipping, to stroking, to kissing, to sucking. It took 30 minutes to get home, she drained me in 20. I actually had to pull over on the turnpike before I went. She worked me so hard, every last drop, then sucked while she played with my balls to make sure I had none left. The whole time my wife was still passed out in the back.

Julie's little snack seemed to sober her up a bit. She giggled some more, told me to blame everything on her being drunk. I guess she had a crush on me but she was my wife's friend at work, and we'd already started dating. When we got home helped me get my wife out of the car. I laid my wife on the bed and Julie said we should undress her. She'd hate to ruin a dress with vomit. It took some drunk ballet but we got the dress off. Then Julie spread my wife's legs.

My wife told me years ago that she'd never been with another woman. Julie just couldn't resist. I sat on the edge of the bed watching her slowly go down on my wife. She was drunk, out cold, but Julie was on her knees working her just as hard as she'd worked me. When Julie started to get up I stepped behind her.

She knew it was coming, and giggled as my fingers teased her first. Pounding any woman when she's bent over in a hell of a visual. Pounding your wife's best friend, while she's eating your wife, that's almost too much. Even though Julie drained me earlier I knew it wouldn't last but I was determined to make her go first. Soon enough she was moaning, my wife started softly moaning in her sleep, and then I felt her shiver. Once I was certain she was going I decided to go for the gold. I used a wet finger first, then slowly worked my way into her ass. Her moans changed. I could tell she wasn't expecting that. So I pressed her head into my wife's snatch while I pushed harder into her ass. I'd wanted to give her a facial, but getting it in her ass was all I could handle. She purred as I drained my second load.

Obviously I'm typing this up this morning. Julie and my wife are still passed out and it's a little after 1pm. We'd all called in sick. Thinking about it I think it was a setup. My wife would never agree to a 3some, and Julie didn't seem all that blitzed. If it wasn't a setup then it sure seemed like it. If it was, then she got more then she expected!

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.”

If everyone accepted Jesus in their hearts and listened sincerely to his Sermon on the Moon there would be less mass shootings in US churches. God bless.

Exhibitionist whore. Everyone sees he has a dick up his decidedly not virgin butt

Hello motherless I'm Julia my boyfriend Todd lives in a frat house with 11 other guys. He has his own tiny room while I have a roommate, so we always have sex at his place. I like anal, but my favorite is to have sex while wearing a butt plug. So to surprise me my boyfriend went out and bought a butt plug. Apparently a cheap one.

So today, during the day, I came over and he showed me the new butt plug. When I saw it I thought the base looked a little small, but I didn’t think too much of it. After some foreplay, my boyfriend lubed me up and inserted the butt plug. Everything was going great so far and we started having sex, doggy style. I was getting really into it, when suddenly my boyfriend said “oh shit!” and pulled out. I figured he must have cum early or something, but when I looked back, I saw that he was still hard. So I asked him what’s up, and he says “the butt plug disappeared inside your ass”. So, I told him to get it out immediately. He tries pushing his fingers in, but all he was doing was pushing it in further. So I tell him to stop and, squatting, tried pushing it out myself, but it just didn’t want to come out.

So at this point I started freaking out. I really didn’t want to go to the emergency room. All I could think of were those x-rays you always see of stuff stuck in people’s asses. I knew a female friend of mine Melissa, who is dating one of his roommates, was over so I told him to go get her. The idiot goes out and tells her, in front of her boyfriend Jason, that I have a butt plug stuck in my ass and I need her help. So next thing I know all 3 of them are back in the tiny room looking at my ass while I am butt naked on all fours on the bed. I yell at her boyfriend Mark to get out and she is laughing her ass off. So he leaves and she gets some lube to try and get it out. Then I noticed she has really long nails and there was no way I was going to let her dig inside my ass for the butt plug with them. So I told her to forget it. Then SHE suggests I let her boyfriend try! I really didn’t want to go to the emergency room, so I agreed.

My boyfriend starts getting upset, but I told him to shut up and that its all his fault that I am in this mess. Meanwhile her boyfriend told ALL the roommates what happened. So when she goes to call him, everyone comes up and they all see me in my very revealing predicament. After throwing a fit and yelling at them all to leave, her boyfriend lubes up his fingers and goes to work. Amazingly enough, he actually managed to grab it and got it out! Needless to say, we threw it in the trash.