Bernard's Cock

This is the confessional story of how Bernard was able to fuck whoever he wanted in class.

Bernard was timid and shy, and his thin body reflected this. However, as is often the case with such a person, he was the horniest of fuckers. Losing his virginity permeated his thoughts throughout every minute of his waking life, and when he slept, well, needless to say all his dreams had a common theme. Every morning Bernard awoke to the disappointment that the cunt he thought he'd finally been penetrating, was just another dream, and that in fact all he had achieved in doing was to make his pyjamas wet and sticky about the groin area again.

Eighteen and the closest he'd been to fucking was in his dreams. However, an unearthly gift was about to change all this.

The first time it happened, Bernard was in Math class. Sitting absentmindedly as ever, Bernard would alternate his gaze between the clock on the wall, and the view out the window. The girls were playing volleyball in the playground. He would try not to stare at them for too long, firstly so that he wasn't caught, and secondly so that he wouldn't get an erection in class. Every time one of the girls would jump to shoot, he would narrow his vision at their vest covered breasts, some were larger than others, but all gave him equal delight.

Turning his attention back to his text book, Bernard couldn't help but notice the pink thong of the girl in the desk in front of his. She was Jessica Riley, and she was the prettiest of things. Seeing her thong from behind, Bernard couldn't help but imagine what the front would look like, how she would look with nothing but the thong on, with her long brunette hair resting on her naked shoulders. How he would love to pull her thong to oneside and taste her fresh pussy, how her body would writhe under the influence of his tongue up her cunt. Bernard's breaths begin to become shorter when all at once his thoughts were suddenly broken.

Mrs Adams was standing over his desk. "Distracted by something again Bernard?", she enquired in harsh tones.
"No Mrs, sorry Mrs", fell the words out of his embarrassed red face.

Leaning forward, Mrs Adams continued to lecture Bernard on the importance of remaining focused in class and studying well. However it fell on dead ears, Bernard had already been distracted by her low cut top, draping off her shoulders, exposing first her collar bones, then her well defined cleavage. Bernard tried to retain eye contact with Mrs Adams, tried to look as if he was paying attention to her words. It was too dificult. He Intermittently nodded to simulate agreement with what she was saying, however this was merely an excuse to catch a glimpse down her blouse.

Seeing the top of her black lace bra, remembering the sight of Jessica's pink thong. Imagining Mrs Adams and Jessica naked together, rubbing each others bodies, kissing each others lips. Picturing them on their knees under his desk, pulling down his trousers, seeing their astonished faces as he reveals his gigantic cock (it wasn't). Bernard could no longer suppress the feeling in his boxers, a bead of sweat rolled down his face, and his cock all of a sudden was erect.

As instantaneously as Bernard's cock was hard, Mrs Adams speech wash frozen. He looked up awaiting the next sentence but it didn't come. He looked around, no one was moving. He looked out the window, the girls had stopped playing volleyball, frozen like statues in their sporting poses. Finally he looked back at the clock on the wall, it ticked no longer. In total shock, Bernard rose from his seat. Shaking like a leaf he reached out to touch Mrs Adams' arm. It was warm and soft, she remained totally motionless and unaffected.

The distress evident on Bernard's face slowly faded as his parted lips transformed into a wry grin. The realisation time was frozen and his cock was rock solid made Bernard overwhelmed with a strange blend of fear and joy. Building in confidence, he reached for Mrs Adams' tits, the first non-maternal pair he'd ever felt. He squeezed them with delight. In the blink of an eye he had removed her blouse, and then - not without difficulty - removed that seductive lace bra, dropped it to the floor, and almost awe struck eye-balled her large exposed tits. Those grand orbs of desire, framed and enhanced by a thin waist and slender shoulders. Bernard was beside himself.

Removing his own top, Bernard moved closer to Mrs Adams. He threw his arms around her waist tightly to feel her naked torso against his. He tasted her lips, slid his hands down her trousers and groped her firm ass cheeks. After feeling her tongue with his own one, he moved down to kiss her neck, in doing so he saw it again - over Mrs Adams' shoulder - the pink thong of Jessica Riley.

How had he forgotten about Jessy, sitting there, bent forward, frozen. He stepped away from Mrs Adam's body, approached Jessica's desk. She sat there with the end of a pencil in her mouth. How innocent she looked clearly deliberating on one of the problems from class. Bernard was transfixed by her pretty frozen face, by her soft lips teasing the end of that pencil, he couldn't resist any longer. Her head was at a perfect height, he turned it towards his crotch and dropped his trousers. He ripped off his boxers and manually opened her mouth, then - slowly yet purposefully - buried his throbbing cock in her gob. He felt her wet tongue before the back of her mouth.

His heart beating like a drum, Bernard lost all self-control. Taking hold of her head with both hands, Bernard begin thrusting in and out of her mouth. The silence in the room was broken by the sound of squelching and of Bernard's balls ricocheting off her chin. Jessica's mouth became ever fuller with spit and bile as she began to gag on Bernards cock which gave him a shock. He took his cock out her mouth to see if she had awoken. She hadn't, but moreover, she was more beautiful than ever. Frozen in time with saliva hanging between her mouth and his cock, her eye make-up a mess.

Bernard lifted Jessica out of her chair. Fortunately she stood of her own accord. Starting from the top down, Bernard unbuttoned her shirt one by one. She didn't wear a bra, and her perky budding tits were a sight to behold. Small, unassuming, fucking perfect. Her body was just as Bernard had imagined. Petite as anything, slightly tanned, soft, delicate, ripe.

Bernard continued to strip both his mannequinesque beauties completely bear. He looked around the room at all the other frozen faces, but with little inspection was sure he already had the two finest women in the room stripped naked, ready at his disposal. He pushed Mrs Adam's onto his desk face up, and positioned her body so that her head dangled off the end. With some effort and plenty of huffing and puffing, he lifted Jessica's body on top of Mrs Adams' the other way around and on all fours, so that her hairless pussy rested right above Mrs' Adams' upside down face.

Bernard stood back and admired his perfect fucking creation. Proudly he stood up to it, kissed Jessica's pretty little ass cheek (for it looked so sweet), then angled his cock down towards Mrs Adams' mouth. He secured the two bodies in place with his hands, and begin to pummel her mouth like a rabid dog fucks their favourite toy.

Once again the room was full of the sound of gagging. This time Mrs Adams' mouth squelching whilst spit spluttered out all over her face. Bernard stopped fucking her face for a moment, again admiring his creation and the mess he'd made of it.

Using his hand, he cupped up some of the saliva from his cock and Mrs Adams' messy face, and dribbled it over Jessica's ass. Bernard returned his cock to Mrs Adam's throat, burying his whole length in there as far is he could go, holding it there for a few seconds so to lube up his cock. He pulled it out again, took a firm grip of Jessica's hips, and with some force required, squeezed his cock into her asshole.

Her asshole, tight as it was, gradually parted, expended, and engulfed the head of Bernard's cock. He slid inch after inch, deeper and deeper into her shitter, and as he reached maximum penetration, she wimpered.

Again Bernard feared she had awoken. He reached forward and turned her head to face him. It was still motionless, yet now it bore an expression of discomfort. Still angling her face towards him, Bernard removed all but the head of his cock from her ass. Staring deeply into her eyes (still beautifully framed by her messed up makeup), he slammed his cock hard up her ass to the sound of flesh slapping flesh and another whimper. Certainly she was still frozen in time, but to Bernard' delight, she quietly whimpered as he continued to pound her ass.

After a few minutes of fucking Jessica's pretty little ass, he removed his cock, and spat onto her barely gaping hole. It slid over her asshole, down the ravine between her red ass cheeks towards her pussy, before dripping on Mrs Adams' face. The sight of this excited Bernard immensely, and joyfully he returned his ass stenching cock to Mrs Adams' throat.

He pounded away gleefully, alternating between the teachers gob and the students asshole, the messier Mrs Adams' face became, and the more Jessica whimpered, the more Bernard became excited. Frantically he fucked both of them until he felt a contortion in his stomach. Uncontrollably, as if possessed, he stretched Jessica's ass cheeks wide apart, found her drenched wet cunt with the head of his cock, plunged the whole thing in, and instantly erupted. With a demonic grunt, the likes of which Bernard did not know he could produce, Bernard was finished.

So that's the story of how Bernard lost his virginity (if you can call it that). After cumming (and taking a moment to watch his cum spew out of Jessica's pussy onto Mrs Adams' face) he quickly cleaned and dressed the pair, and soon as his cock was soft again, the clock ticked again. Needless to say Jessica and Mrs Adams' were might confused as to why their makeup had suddenly became a mess, why Jessica's ass was sore, and why Mrs Adams' had lost her voice. However it remained an unsolved mystery.

From that day onwards, whenever Bernard got an erection, time froze. Might this gift turn out to be a curse for our timid Bernard. Who knows? All Bernard knows, is that he had the best fucking experience of his life, one that he couldn't have even dreamed off without his magic cock.

Asian women share tips on how to catch a man and keep him happy.

For generations Asian women learned how to treat a man by following rules laid down by Thai philosopher Sunthron Phu in his book Maxims for Teaching Women. Now they�ve taken his words of wisdom that have been passsed down fro more than 2,000 years and updated them to deal with men in 2012.

Here are the winning recommendations for Western women who want to trade be successful in love and marriage:

1) YOUR MAN IS KING - Remember that your man/husband comes first � before you, your parents, your outside interests or even your children
2) RISE EARLY. Get up in the morning before your man does. Make sure you prepare a healthy breakfast so he gets a good start on the day. Even if you have to leave before him, make sure he has a nice breakfast waiting for him when he comes into the kitchen in the morning.
3) NEVER NAG. Never, ever. If he wants to stop off after work and have a few drinks with his buddies, that�s his business. If he forgot to take out the garbage � do it yourself.
4) BE AT HOME. Make sure you�re always at home when he gets in from a hard day at the office. Even if you are working, make sure you get home to your man/husband as soon as possible.
5) SMILE. Always greet your man with a smile on your face and, if you can, a cold drink in your hand.
6) DINNER READY. If you are home, or get home first, always have a delicious dinner ready to be served. And if he comes home feeling tense, give him a massage to ease his aches and pains.
7) LET HIM HANG WITH FRIENDS. If your man wants to have his buddies over for a night of poker, or football, or video games, don�t get mad. Encourage it and make sure you�ve got lots of sandwiches and cold beer on hand to serve them.
8) ASK FIRST. Always ask him first before you go spending his hard-earned money, or even your hard-earned money, to buy something for yourself.
9) REMOTE CONTROL. Let him choose the programs you watch onteleveision. The television is man�s domain� he should be in charge. And only Netflix/rent HIS favorite movies or TV shows.
10) OBEY. Don�t do things your husband doesn�t approve of. And don�t complain about it. If he doesn�t want you wasting your time watching soap operas or having coffee with a neighbor, obey him. You�ll both be happier for it.
11) WILD IN BED. Be a temptress in bed. If he likes you in sexy lingerie, wear it. Be shy and demure when you�re out in public, but once the lights are out, let him know he�s the only man in the world who can please you.
2) KNOW SPORTS. Bone up on sports so you�ll have something to talk about. But always let him start the conversation.

13) KEEP FIT. Keep yourself in shape and always dress nicely so you�ll be a wife any husband would be proud to have.
14) CLEANING. Keep your home spic and span at all times. It should look like you�re expecting company. And the laundry should always be done. Your man should never have to look for clean socks or underwear and his shirts should all be ironed � by you.

Follow ALL these steps and you will be happy for the rest of your life!

My Master is indeed controlling and I love that traiet about Him, just as well with spoiling me I love both. I was indeed mean attacking my Master because of something I like about Him. I like tasting His side that others don't get to taste. Spoiling me makes my bones melt and my mind seeking the ways of spoiling Him not as a trade just it pushes my buttons. Just as well when I am forced to miss Him i love fishing those eyes on me, twisting under His grip anticipating the moment when He takes a bite

I have really screwed up my life.

I'm married to a gorgeous woman for 5 years and we both have very good jobs. "The perfect couple", or, so friends think. 

The problem....I have a gambling addiction......a very bad one. My wife knows about it and is giving out to me about it but she definitely doesn't know how deep I'm in.... hundreds of thousands, over 3 different loans from him. I've been beaten, broken bones and my life was threatened.

The last time was when I was out having a drink with my wife. They came up to me in the restroom, banged my head off the wall and sink. He gave me 1 last week to pay him. 

The following day I got a phone call from him saying that he might have a way that I could pay him back, he said, "well not you but maybe my wife could if you know what I mean". I know exactly what he meant and said, " he could forget about that because she won't be letting that happen". He suggested to me to get her drunk, and I replied that she'll have to be passed out before he'd get what he wanted. He finished the phone call telling me to meet him at his club tomorrow. That doesn't sound good for me.

I called to see him at the club and thinking the worst was about to happen, but I got a shock. He had one of his minders hand me a little bag. He said, " about our conversation last night, give her this in a drink on Saturday night and he'll be calling by at midnight for part payment. It takes about 1 hour to take full affect, have her ready. Now get out of my face."

Saturday arrives. I'm sick. I don't want to do it. I can't do this. But if I don't I'm in huge trouble, I'm a done. 

It's now 9:00, I'm really, really sick to my stomach. I tell her that I'm thinking of staying home tonight have a few drinks here instead of going out. I told her I was having a rum and coke, would she like one. She thought it was a good idea and said that she'd love one. I poured her a drink and we finished our first glass and I offered her a second. As I poured it, I just couldn't put the pill into her drink, I couldn't do it. During the second drink I noticed, it was the closest we've been for a long time. With this gambling problem, we drifted apart, we haven't been intimate in a couple of years. We did nothing but fight. But tonight she was getting close to me. She had her head on my shoulder and started to rub my thigh and even rubbing off my dick and I could see her rubbing her legs together and her body at times started to quiver. She was getting herself ready for me. It was now almost 11:00, and she asked me, could she have one more drink before bed. I went into the kitchen poured out her rum and I hesitated. This sick feeling in my stomach and a lightheaded dizziness came over me as I dropped the pill into her drink....what have I just done. The pill almost disintegrated before I had my drink poured. I brought it out to her, she took a drink from the glass and........ nothing........ nothing at all. She didn't notice. It took her about the 40 minutes to finish. Her words started to get slurred, she had trouble keeping her eyes open, the pill was taking affect. She even joked asking me what did I put into the drinks. She gets up off the couch and stumbled across the room making her way to the bathroom. It is now almost midnight I went in to the bedroom only to see my wife, sitting on the toilet unconscious. She has only her bra on and her panties are around her ankles. I lifted her to the bedroom placing her on the bed, all the time she was as limp and didn't come around. I just waited.

12:30 passed. 1:00 passes. I start to feel better thinking he was too busy or just forget when.....bang, bang, bang on the door. My heart sunk.

I answered the door and in he bursts along with his 2 minders and barks, " where is she."  I lead them to the bedroom where he lifts her eye lids and then slaps her face quite hard. He said something in Russian and the 3 of them start laughing. He checks her eyes again and after that he starts to squeeze my wife's boobs. He slaps them around for a bit and then starts to feel her pussy through her panties. He then pulls my wife's panties to one side and shoves his fingers into her pussy, fingers her for a bit and pulls them out and shows it to his minders saying something to them in his language and they start laughing again, and they start to squeeze her boobs. He takes out his phone and said to me to take off her knickers and bra and as I start, he records me. When I had them taken off I got up and started to walk to the door when he called me back. He said that it was my fault that this was happening and I have to watch.  One of his minders said something to him. Again they start laughing but I'm then told not only do I have to stay but I have to record them with my wife. They took turns with her mouth and pussy. Slapping and squeezing her boobs. I could see them turning a reddish/ purple color. Her nipples were being twisted and pulled. Her face was getting a beating from the whip of a big dick, getting her mouth forced open, getting a dick pushed back her throat. Her pussy was getting rammed by their there dicks which also got her tits bouncing everywhere. This lasted for almost a hour before the first of them shot a load of cum over her face and hair. Not long after the second minder emptied his dick all over her boobs, leaving the boss ramming his dick in her pussy, finally giving one last trust and shooting his load deep into my unconscious wife. He orders me to get a closeup of his cum dripping out from her pussy lips.

They put their clothes back on and head out twords the front door when he hands me one of the slips with the smallest amount from my gambling debt and with it gives me a bag saying they'll be back next week to get his money's worth from us. 

In the morning when my wife woke she was saying that we must have had a great time. She said, " you left your cum all over me. I'm still dripping from you", as she looks down between her legs, showing me the cum running down the inside of her leg. She also said that her breasts are really tinder.

Next Saturday came, I did the same thing to my poor wife. I used her. This time I was told to sit in my car and wait until I was called, which I did. The 2 minders went back to their car opened the door and lead some man into my house. Someone else was about to have fun with my comatose wife. I waited and waited. Eventually, almost 2 hours later, the strainer leaves my house and I get called in. The boss gives me the second slip with my owed money telling me that the biggest amount is still outstanding. He told me to keep Saturday 3 weeks from now free that myself and my wife are invited to his club, VIP guests. I told him that I don't know about that. But he said that it wasn't an offer, it's a request.

What happened that night is something I'll never forgive myself for. Me and my stupid gambling.

I'll write what happened that night, if there is any interest.

I keep a girlfriend in order to amuse myself when I don't feel like boning my wife. Today, my girlfriend told me she was pregnant. I think I'm gonna have my wife breastfeed my girlfriend, to make her body extra healthy for the baby. And also because I love to see women milking other womens tits.

I confess that I miss my girlfrind since she went away for a few weeks...I discovered KY jelly is great for lubricating a cock for jerking off..use a lil water when it dries to make it all slippery agian...I was fapping on here & this cute girl in tight white shorts went to the community mailbox...which happens to be 50 feet from my window...my cock was slippery...all 8 inches bone hard..I seen her bend down to open the mailbox door...I was watching her from my window...I think she might have noticed me watching her because she seemed to take longer than normal to take the mail out with her ass bent over...I could not help but jerk my hard slippery cock till I blew a huge load all over the door that I was looking through.....I moved back a bit so that she didn't see me as she finally got her mail...I noticed her peek this way as she walked back home...maybe she knew what I was doing..I do hope so...love to see her again

My second year of junior college, my friends were living in a rental duplex in the neighborhood most of us grew up in. It was like 3 bedrooms and we crammed 9 guys in there. It was worse when the other guys were in relationships too because I was never comfortable lying in bed, trying to sleep, while some hottie bit her lip trying not to moan as she got finger banged. Sometimes I’d walk in and just them making out would make me turn around, get in the car, and go for a long drive.

That was when I got in an accident.

I don’t remember any of it. The other driver had T-boned me after, according to him, I ran a red light. But I was the slow, patient driver that braked on yellow. And he had five wrecks. Insurance did most of the work and there was one witness who said the other guy was speeding and that alone made him responsible and I didn’t have to pay.

But I also didn’t have a car for a few months while the court case was being fought. My insurance didn’t get me a rental either. Thanks, Obama.

Only one other guy had a car in the house and we couldn’t all fit so…

My mom drove us.

She lived just four blocks away and she was a cool, stay-at-home mom. Most of the guys knew her since elementary school when she chaperoned field trips and when we got to hanging out in high school, she’d never bust us for sneaking a few drinks during poker games in the basement. That first she came down for frozen pizzas, we freeze, waiting for trouble, yelling, a lecture, a look, anything. But she never mentioned it. By senior year, we didn’t even pretend to hide our Solo cups. And the guys liked her, joking the way guys do about my hot mom, her fake tits (no proof of that!), and how she’d get dressed up for giving us a ride to school while we were in ripped jeans and faded T-shirts. She wanted it, they were sure, and sometimes they’d flirt, “Looking nice, Mrs. Stevens. New perfume?”

But there’s still something about being in college, on crutches, and having my mom drop me off at school that I couldn’t get over. The car rides were quiet.

She had a mini-van and the guys in back would whisper and giggle and I’d hear, “Would you rather…” then a bunch of text alerts and my phone would vibrate and I’d look and it’d be like two photos of porn stars covered in jizz that I’d avert from my mom’s view.

Everyone would respond to the group text and if I didn’t, I’d get ragged on so I’d pick.

On our drive home from class, this kid Blake sent one that made me turn around and go, “Really?!”
He’d sent, “For half a million dollars, would you rather get fucked in the ass or in the mouth? Both to completion. Like inside.”

Everyone had pretty much the same reaction, calling him gay, refusing to answer. He swore that was the game, two awful choices and you had to pick one.

“What’d this one say?” My mom asked. She was smart enough to know the game they were playing.

“Forget it,” I said. The drive was slow. A lot of crosswalks with students that never paused.

“I want to play. It seems like you’re all having fun.”

“They like it because it makes me uncomfortable. Assholes.”

“Let her play!” all the guys chimed in.

“So would you rather…” She paused to think, tapping on the steering wheel. “Asparagus or broccoli?”

The guys all laughed.

“That’s not really the game,” I said.

“I’m just warming up! And it’s practical. I thought I’d make you boys something with vitamins. Keep you fitting into clothes and looking good.”

“It’s got to be two tough choices,” I said.

“This wasn’t a game when I was a kid,” she told us.

“It’s got to be something awful or sexual or maybe two options so good that it’s tough to choose either,” Gabe said.

“It’s not really something I want to play with my mom.”

“Give me an example. What’d Blake ask?”

There was a silence at a light as everyone looked around at who’d man up and say it.

“Anal or oral,” Blake said.

The light turned green in the silence and the car revved up. “Both,” she said.

“Oh god,” I groaned.

The boys cheered like mad. “Yeah, Mrs. Stevens!”

“What? They’re both fun if you’re in the mood.”

“Kill me,” I muttered. She smacked my leg playfully.

“Blake asked that?” she said, looking in the rearview. Blake was in the middle of the bench seat in back between Tommy and Michael. “All right, then Blake, would you rather jerk off Tommy or Michael?”

The two guys in the pilot seats, Gabe and Louis, turned and laughed and high-fived as Blake just shook his head and Tommy and Michael looked out the window, inching away from Blake.

“I answered yours! Let’s hear yours? Or you going to say ‘Both’ too?” She was a devil of a woman.

“I don’t know… Michael looks like a virgin so he’d probably finish quickest.”

There was a chorus of “Ew!” “Gay.” “Gross, dude.” And Michael was adamant he’d made it with like twenty girls last week.

“Sure, Mike,” Mom said, giggling, teasing.

“All right, all right. Um…” He was desperate to get her back, but all of this was really just an attack on me. “Who would you rather?”

“Between Mike and Tommy?”

“Between all of us.”

She thought about it as she turned “I thought these were supposed to be tough choices.”

I wasn’t sure where we were. It was a cornfield, which were common around her, but usually just on one side. We were surrounded and the only buildings in front were grain silos and farm houses and there wasn’t any traffic coming our way or tailing us.

“Do you have a choice?” Mike asked.

She pulled over into a shaded spot. “The only tough part about this is having to choose at all.”

“Whoa, hold on,” I said.

Mom undid her seatbelt and as it went up, so did her sundress letting her bare, bouncing breasts hang out. I’ll never forget her tan marks.
She got in back before the guys knew what to do and she was on her knees between Gabe and Louis and one hand was fumbling with both zippers. “One of you better get up here and fill my mouth.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve done the math. There’s enough room for everyone in every hole and every hand.”

“Mrs. Stevens,” Michael said, unsure. But Blake undid his pants and stepped up and slid his uncircumcised cock in her mouth, putting his hands on her head. She went down deep on him then came off, licking his shaft to his tip.

She’d gotten Gabe’s and Louis’s pants undone and told them to take them off. “Who wants which hole? We got a pussy and an ass that needs filling and Blake can’t do it all himself.”

“I’ll take pussy,” Louis said, trembling.

“So Gabe gets the ass. Don’t worry about hurting me. John,” she said to me licking up Blake’s shaft again. “Open the glove compartment and get Gabe some lube. Always use lube boys. A lot of it.”

I couldn’t. I was frozen.

My mom, topless and in a thong and strappy heels, bent over my friend’s cock with four others out, ready to get stroked, sucked, and fucked. I couldn’t aid this. But I couldn’t leave either.

“John!” she snapped. But she was impatient for her fucking and got up to shuffle on her knees to the glove box for her lube. KY.

“Okay, boys,” she said. “Some rules first. No telling anyone about it, but you should all be taking videos and photos. You’re not in charge. I am. You stop when I say, not after, definitely not before. All those cocks are going to get drained. When you need to finish, on my face, chest, ass, stomach, hands, wherever, but not inside me. On me. And please, call me ‘Mom.’”

She adjusted the rearview so I could see, if I wanted. I peeked. Then watched. Getting aroused. Wanting it too. Wanting her to be anyone else’s mom or my stepmom or a stranger. But she wasn’t. She was my mom. And I watched my friends fuck fill both holes, her mouth. She jerked them slowly, then quickly, asking them if they wanted to cum, then stopping to edge a bigger cumshot out of them. She switched people at will. There was a lot of bumping around and at one point she was getting railed by just Blake in the ass and she was right by me and she kept looking up, smiling at me, licking her lips.

The guys would shoot cum on her face and it’d drip off as they kept fucking her. When they had finished once, she made them keep going. I think each finished three times and she tried milking more out. She was dripping. And smiling.

“Okay, let’s all get out so we can get dressed more easily.”

The boys all filed out of the van, listening to her. But she slid the door closed.

“It’s our turn, baby,” she said and kissed me with cummy lips. “I saw you watching. I know you wanted a turn. Well now I’m all yours.”

The windows were tinted and the guys couldn’t see what was happening but they tried to open the doors and peek in but since the car was off, they knew they weren’t stranded at least.

Meanwhile, Mom led me to the back where she sat on me, kissing me, letting their cum drip off her face, pressing her jizzed on breasts against my bare chest. It was gross…but I liked it.
She pulled my cock out and slowly gyrated her hips as she slid it inside her. She was in complete control.

And I loved it.

She went slow at first. It was my first time, whether she knew or not, and she treated me lovingly, kissing me as she sank onto me. Asking if I liked it like this. Asking me if I was ready for more? For faster? For harder?

“Yes,” I moaned.

“I love you,” she said.

And she didn’t stop until I finished inside her.

#

When she let them back in the car, Blake wanted more but she was cleaned up, clothed, and not in the mood. He tried to force it but I sat him down. It was a quiet ride home. Mom stole glances at me, little smiles. I had them too.

Then she pulled up to our house. Our other roommates were out so we all went inside and mom got started on cooking us broccoli and fried rice and a good home-cooked meal.
And for dessert, Blake had to watch the rest of us and her and he never got that special by himself moment with Mom like I did.

# # #

Let me know if you'd be interested in a whole blog dedicated to these erotic fantasies I have.

Jamilla’s crucifixion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About four months ago via an ancestry website I discovered I had a second cousin I never knew about. We have been emailing and chatting online since then and I've been getting totally been turned on. Fuck is she hot.
Especially her lips, she has got the hottest lips. I have jerked off a number of times thinking about her sucking me off. The last few chats have started to get sexual and to the point of me having a hard time chatting while I stroke my cock.
She too has stated that she masts while we are chatting and has made no bones that she wants me to fuck her.
We have decided to get together to meet and wants to stay at our house, the problem is my wife. I know if I get together with my cousin we are going to end up in the sack but I love my wife and am worried she might figure out what is going on.
Any advice would greatly be appreciated.

The Boarding School by Ana�s Nin:

This is a story of life in Brazil many years ago, far from the city,
where the customs of strict Catholicism still prevailed. Boys of
good birth were sent to boarding schools run by the Jesuits, who
continued the severe habits of the Middle Ages. The boys slept
on beds of wood, rose at dawn, attended mass without break-
fast, confessed every day and were constantly watched and spied
upon. The atmosphere was austere and inhibiting. The priests
ate their meals apart and created an aura of sainthood around
themselves. They were stylized in their gestures and speech.

Among them was a very dark-skinned Jesuit who had some
Indian blood, the face of a satyr, large ears glued to his head,
piercing eyes, a loose-lipped mouth that was always watering,
thick hair and the smell of an animal. Under his long brown robe
the boys had often noticed a bulge which the younger boys
could not explain and which older boys laughed at behind his
back. This bulge would appear unexpectedly at any hour�while
the class read Don Quixote or Rabelais, or sometimes while he
merely watched the boys, and one boy in particular, the only fair-
haired one in all the school, with the eyes and skin of a girl.

He liked to get this boy off by himself and show him books
from his private collection. These contained reproductions of
Inca pottery on which there were often depictions of men stand-
ing against each other. The boy would ask questions which the
old priest had to answer elusively. Other times the prints were
quite clear; a long member came out of the middle of one man
and penetrated the other from behind.

At confession this priest plied the boys with questions. The
more innocent they appeared to be, the closer he questioned
them in the darkness of the little confessional box. The kneeling
boys were unable to see the priest, who was sitting inside. His
low voice came through a small grilled window, asking, "Have
you ever had sensual fantasies? Have you thought about
women? Have you tried to imagine a woman naked? How do
you behave at night in bed? Have you ever touched yourself?
Have you ever fondled yourself? What do you do in the morn-
ing upon rising? Do you have an erection? Have you ever tried
to look at other boys while they dress? Or at the bath?"

The boy who did not know anything would soon learn
what was expected of him and be tutored by these questions.
The boy who knew took pleasure in confessing in detail his
emotions and dreams. One boy dreamed every night. He did not
know what a woman looked like, how she was made. But he had
seen the Indians making love to the vicuna, which resembled a
delicate deer. And he dreamed about making love to vicunas and
awakened all wet every morning. The old priest encouraged
these confessions. He listened with endless patience. He imposed
strange punishments. A boy who masturbated continuously was
ordered to go into the Chapel with him when no one was
around, dip his penis in the holy water, and thus be purified.
This ceremony was carried out in great secrecy at night.

There was one very wild boy who looked like a little Moor-
ish prince, black-faced, with noble features, a royal carriage, and
a beautiful body so smooth that no bones ever showed, lean and
polished as a statue. This boy rebelled against the customary
wearing of nightgowns. He was used to sleeping naked and the
nightgown choked him, stifled him. So every night he put it on
like the other boys, and then he would secretly take it off under
his covers, and finally fall asleep without it.

Every night the old Jesuit would make his rounds, watching
that no boy visited another in his bed, or masturbated, or talked
in the dark to his neighbor. When he reached the bed of the
undisciplined one, he would slowly and cautiously lift the cover
and look at his naked body. If the boy awakened he would scold
him. "I came to see if you were sleeping without a nightgown
again!" But if the boy did not awaken he was content with a
long lingering glance at the youthful body asleep.

Once during anatomy class when he stood on the teacher's
platform, and the girlish blond boy sat staring at him, the
prominence under his priest's robe became obvious to everyone.

He asked the blond boy, "How many bones does man have
in his body?"

The blond boy answered meekly, "Two hundred and eight."

Another boy's voice came from the back of the classroom,
'But Father Dobo has two hundred and nine!"

It was soon after this incident that the boys were taken on
a botanical excursion. Ten of them lost their way. Among them
was the delicate blond boy. They found themselves in a forest,
far from the teachers and the rest of the school. They sat down
to rest and decide upon a course of action. They began eating
berries. How it began, no one knew, but after a while the blond
boy was thrown on the grass, undressed, turned on his stomach
and the other nine boys all passed over him, taking him as they
would a prostitute, brutally. The experienced boys penetrated
his anus to satisfy their desire, while the less experienced used
friction between the legs of the boy, whose skin was as tender as
a woman's. They spat on their hands and rubbed saliva over
their penises. The blond boy screamed and kicked and wept, but
they all held him and used him until they were satiated.

I'm 32 and have a long time 25 year old girlfriend. I just got a ride home from a co-worker. She is a 22 year old babe, amazing tight body, gorgeous. I've fucked her before but not for a while and the sex is always amazing so I when we got to my house I scouted it out and my girlfriend wasn't home yet from work. She is a server and her ending time varies. I sent a text to check and no response, so I invited the co-worker in. She was waiting in her car to see if the coast was clear. I was a little worried because for all I know my girl would come home without texting me back to surprise me, or maybe try to catch me if she is suspicious. Anyway, I don't normally take those sorts of chances, but the idea of risking it was hot. Just to be clear, I love my girlfriend and don't want to break up with her, but for me sex is different and I occasionally cheat on the side. So I definitely don't want to get caught.

So the co-worker comes in and she wants to see my room. Normally we fuck in the living room. See I convinced her that I still live with an ex and we are on a break and seeing other people but out of respect we don't bring people home while the other is there. This story was necessary since she said she doesn't want to be a homewrecker. After fucking her once I needed a story because I wanted to fuck her again (like I said, amazing sex)and my house is more convenient since she has roommates and doesn't like to bring too many boys around as she doesn't want to look like a slut. Anyway, long story short, she hadn't seen my room. I reluctantly showed her and she was a little surprised that it was only one room with one bed. I tried to explain that we still share a bed most of the time because we don't have room for 2 beds and since we dated for a long time it isn't a big deal. She then asked, doesn't it make you want to fuck sometimes though? I said we still do sometimes but not often. I don't know if she still buys the story or not, but the whole idea seemed to turn her on because right then and there she jumped my bones and we started stripping. She purposely led me to the bed to fuck, I think she secretly liked the idea of us fucking where I sleep with my girlfriend. I hesitated, but the moment was so hot, so I allowed it. I fucked her brains out in a few different positions and she came about half a dozen times. She cums really easily, it is awesome. She says it is only that easy with me because she loves my cock, but I don;t know. Anyway, I like this because my girlfriend takes forever to cum and so much foreplay just to get wet enough to fuck. This girl just climbs right onto my dick within 30 seconds of foreplay. It's awesome.

Anyway, after she came for around the 6th time she started begging me to cum on her. Although I always finish on my girlfriend, she doesn't actually ask for it and it is always slightly awkward for some reason. It is like she is tolerating it, but doesn't particularly like it. It is so hot to have a girl actually ask for it. Anyway, I have came on her other times, but this time I had the idea that I wanted to blow my load all over her face. I know she has never done that before because when I came on her tits one time she said no guy has ever had the balls to blast on her. Anyway, she really loves watching me jack off and I get turned on by that. She watched and kept saying how hot it was and how much she wanted my cum on her. Fucking amazing, my heart is still racing from it. So 5 seconds before I blow I say I want to cum all over her face and I change my position to be in position to do so. She doesn't back away and I fucking blast the shit out of her. All over her face, neck, and tits. In the eye, on the nose, all over her lips and chin. I hadn't jacked off or fucked for a couple days as I have been busy and stressed, and man did I ever let loose on this girl's face. She seemed a little shocked. It took about 10 tissues to wipe her off as she was getting dressed she kept fining bits of cum to wipe off. I must admit, giving facials is rare for me. My girlfriend will never do that and most girls in my experience won't. This girl is a total sweetheart in public but becomes a real slut in the bedroom and she is all mine to experiment with.

Man, I tell you, it was one of the most amazing sexual experiences of my life. What's better than busting a fat nut all over a hot little 22 year old's face in the bed you share with your girlfriend while she could come home any minute? Fucking awesome man. I don't normally brag about sex and I couldn't tell anyone I know, but it feels to great to say how proud I am to have accomplished this amazing experience. I will remember her cute little cum blasted face for many years and it will serve me well when I jack off. Oh shit, my girl just got home!