Nights in Arlen
A KotH sex story
By: null

It was about 9:30 PM on a Tuesday night in Arlen, TX. Luanne Platter and her friend Jaime are sat on Jaime’s 2nd floor apartment balcony. Not a big place at all but Jaime kept it clean and welcoming. Hot but with a nice breeze blowing, the two of them are in shorts and sneakers. Luanne decided on a black bra and white tank top for her visit. Jaime’s was the last place on earth where Luanne felt comfortable and somewhat normal. Jaime has on a hoody but her D breasts are not easily stashed away.

“It’s getting late Jaime… I have to go soon” said Luanne as she tapped out another cigarette from her friends pack, her 3rd that hour.
“Do you want to go to Sugarfoots tomorrow? I’ll give you a ride. I definitely saw a ‘help wanted’ sign. They would hire you in a second!” said Jaime, Luanne’s friend of a few years. Not as pretty as Luanne but built the same way and on par mentally.
“I don’t know. I guess. I hate waiting tables. It’s like being a servant. You have to be happy when you’re really not.”
Luanne was visibly troubled and her friend was getting worried. Luanne had been broken up with Lucky for two months. Even before her and Lucky hit the rough patch that led to their parting ways her attitude had been different. Not the happy, blissfully clueless, piece of southern thickness those who know her have come to expect and love. These last few months she’s always seemed preoccupied and when questioned dismissive and distant.
“Luanne, what’s wrong? You’re not being Luanne. Are you still hung up on Lucky?” asked Jaime.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime.”
Jaime grew worried and decided to change the subject.
“So do you want to go to Luke’s Saturday night? He and his friends are crazy! We need to just wear next to nothing, go there, and show off. Then leave early. They’ll be so about us then we’ll just leave!” Jaime envisioned their victory and laughed. Her chest bouncing as she didn’t have any support on.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Luanne responded, blankly, as she finished another of her friend’s cigarettes.
Jaime was sure a wild night of flirting and showing off followed by an abrupt departure would be just what Luanne needed to get her back on the right track. She felt accomplished already. In the way that she and Luanne’s type often do as they envision their future through rose colored glasses.
“Alright, I gotta go. So you can give me a ride tomorrow?” asked Luanne, with a curious increase in vocal energy that Jaime could not explain.
“Anytime, just call. I’m off all day.”
Luanne made eye contact with Jaime for the first time in 15 minutes.
“You’re the best” said Luanne.
Jaime felt sad at that moment. It confused her as this small compliment should have lit her up. It didn’t and it was the way Luanne said it. As if it meant something more than a simple thank you. She stood up and squeezed Luanne tight. Their breasts each flowing outward as they tried to escape the pressure of the embrace.
“I love you girl… you know that right?” asked Jaime.
“Yea, I love you too Jaime. Mind if I take a cig for my walk home?”
“Take them. I have a carton in the fridge.”
“Thanks” Luanne responded, relieved. She squeezed back to equal Jaime’s embrace.

---
As Luanne walked home one thought, and one thought alone, was dominating her. She literally had to shake her head once in an attempt to push it away. The wind was calmer now. It was summer so kids were out playing hide and go seek. She saw a young boy find and start chasing a younger girl. The young girl was laughing uncontrollably as the boy tackled her onto the grass. Luanne was struck with a profound feeling of nostalgia. As she watched her steps she reminisced on her summer nights as a young girl running from boys. She tossed a cigarette butt into a drain. She crossed her arms under her breasts and her cleavage grew. The good memories of summers past were distorted then gone, replaced by a knot in her stomach. She had begun to hate her body. She hated that her breasts were so big. At one time they were such a source of confidence and pride. Now they disgusted her. As she thought about this she almost wanted to uncross her arms as she could not even stand indirectly touching them. She hated her golden blonde hair. A feature all of her girlfriends constantly said they wished they could have. “You can fucking have it” she thought. Anymore she just wore it in a lazy pony-tail. She hated her thick, round, protruding ass. Something most girls would hate but she loved once upon a time. An asset guys in her area were most keen on. She knew what she had and she flaunted it. Now, it was most decidedly a hate filled relationship. With her chest she could cover up, which she did when she was anywhere but at Jaime’s. But with her ass there was nothing she could do. All of her clothes were what they were. Short, tight, or revealing. In most cases all of the above. As she thought about her wardrobe she began to hate the girl she used to be. This caused her to tear up a little as the thought of hating ones younger and more innocent self is tremendously complicated and confusing. Luanne would never think on that sort of ‘meta’ level but she did know what she felt and it was weird. As she turned down the alley behind Rainy Street her steady pace was significantly slowed as her eyes met the yellow walls of the Hill residence off in the distance. Red truck parked in the driveway. For a second all thoughts and feelings were absent as if she were a deer in headlights. Slowly a feeling of dread surrounded her. She had been down this alley hundreds of times. If she had any talent in her hands she could draw it from memory. That said, for the past few months it has felt absolutely alien to her. She tightened the cross under her pale, ample boobs and began the final trek home. She was sick to her stomach now. She felt sweat beginning to accrue on her forehead. Her jaw was tight. Her hands were clenched. This all became apparent at once as she landed her first step on the driveway.
“Luanne!”
She felt as if she was hit on the back of her head as all the feeling of the past minute was instantly gone.
“Luanne look!”
She turned and looked towards the sound of her name. Bobby and Joseph were running toward her. Bobby was holding something in his hands.
“Bobby, what?” Luanne called out half in a daze having come from the mind state she was in.
“It’s a frog we found down by the Johnsons pond. Look how big it is!” Bobby cried.
Bobby and Joseph arrived at where Luanne was standing sweating and dirty. In Bobby’s hands was a rather massive green frog.
“Bobby that’s gross” Luanne said half aware.
“Do you think Dad will let it in the house?”
Luanne felt a quick jolt of electricity shoot from her head to her toes when Bobby mentioned him.
“I don’t know Bobby. Maybe you should let Joseph keep it tonight and find out in the morning. He might be sleeping” Said Luanne with ulterior motives for keeping him unbothered if at all possible.
Suddenly aware that he’s been mentioned by Luanne Joseph’s gaze was broken away from her thick round ass.
“Yea, my dad won’t care!” he stammered trying not to lose the image of Luanne’s deeply defined ass crack and underwear lines in her tight red cotton shorts.
“OK, Joseph. We can keep it at your house. But if my dad says it’s OK he’s moving in tomorrow! Now come on your mom got us hot pockets for the sleep over!” Bobby cried.
They both ran off towards Dale’s house. Joseph clumsily looking back at Luanne then disappearing behind his dads minivan. Luanne felt sick again as a result of seeing the dead insect on Dales truck. “He’s gross” she thought as she considered the type of guy who would have that on his truck. Then she turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors. Now sick to her stomach for another reason.

---

The light were on but nobody was in the kitchen. The thought had occurred to her to rip one final cigarette before she went in but at this point was numb and plus Aunt Peggy didn’t want her sneaking cigarettes in the back yard anymore. The numbness was slightly lessened at the thought of Aunt Peggy. Basically Luanne’s mom now she felt close to her but more on a friendship level. She thought Aunt Peggy was one of the most intelligent people in the world even though most of the world thought, while friendly in her own way, she was an over confident windbag. Suddenly Luanne became aware she was standing at the sliding glass door looking into the house but unable to open the door. She was temporarily frozen in time as she neither wanted to go in nor continue to stand there looking like a weirdo. As she began to raise her hand to the door the light went off in the kitchen. Luanne stood there with her hand on the door handle for a few seconds. Then she slowly opened it. There was no risk of creaking or grinding as he kept everything in perfect working order. This thought caused knot to return. She slowly closed the door behind her and locked it. As she walked to the doorway to the living room she could hear Aunt Peggy talking to herself. Something about “fixing something when he should be in bed”. The acute awareness that often goes with sneaking around suddenly fell out of her. Numbness was all that was left. He was awake. In the garage. The sweat returned to her forehead. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk to Aunt Peggy in this state so she waited in the dark kitchen until she heard Aunt Peggy in her bedrooms bathroom then slipped into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it. No lock on the door. There used to be one until a few months ago. She started crying quietly. She sat down on her bed and took her shoes off. She had white ankle socks on with pink paws dotted throughout. She peeled off her red shorts and dropped them into her hamper. The white cotton underwear matched her socks. She slipped on Jaime’s Arlen High sweatpants and got under her covers. She felt exhausted from the mental anguish of the past hour. Foolishly she held onto a single hope as she always did at this moment. Laying on her side in her room in his house she hazily stared at the clock on her night stand. Cigarette smoke and winterfresh gum on her breath. The clock read 10:32 PM…

To be continued.

I have a confession... I want to be fed up and turned into a filthy pig.
Ever since me and my boyfriend got together I have been putting on weight and am quite a piggy now. I love the thought of being fed, of having a cite piggy nose and tail butt plug. Of my owner rubbing and jiggling my fat belly

I'm trying to find an image on motherless, can't find it anywhere!!!

It's of... an ebony teen with a butt plug in
she is on the floor, legs open, lean back against a bed
she has nipple clams and (i think) pink stockings on.
and i think she had her hair in pig tails.

So hot, but can't find again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear reedr SDg gbhbbkjcvkjbbbd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear reedr SDg gbhbbkjcvkjbbbd

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

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

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

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

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

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

My sister likes when I put her kitten tail butt plug in get ass to loosen get up before fucking her

went to the beach today just to eat ass i put a sign up saying show butt hole. i will eat butt hole. just bend over tail gate. i ate 5 male butt holes today. 1 female butt hole. and even fucked the female butt hole. plus i drank 5 loads of cum and 2 fucked my butt hole. i'm still behind on taking one dick per day but 5 closer. but not bad for a monday. but plan on going everyday this week and weekend.

I wrote a KotH fan fic years ago then forgot about it. Just added a part 2. Enjoy!

Nights in Arlen
A KotH sex story
By: null

It was about 9:30 PM on a Tuesday night in Arlen, TX. Luanne Platter and her friend Jaime are sat on Jaime’s 2nd floor apartment balcony. Not a big place at all but Jaime kept it clean and welcoming. Hot but with a nice breeze blowing, the two of them are in shorts and sneakers. Luanne decided on a black bra and white tank top for her visit. Jaime’s was the last place on earth where Luanne felt comfortable and somewhat normal. Jaime has on a hoody but her D breasts are not easily stashed away.

“It’s getting late Jaime… I have to go soon” said Luanne as she tapped out another cigarette from her friends pack, her 3rd that hour.
“Do you want to go to Sugarfoots tomorrow? I’ll give you a ride. I definitely saw a ‘help wanted’ sign. They would hire you in a second!” said Jaime, Luanne’s friend of a few years. Not as pretty as Luanne but built the same way and on par mentally.
“I don’t know. I guess. I hate waiting tables. It’s like being a servant. You have to be happy when you’re really not.”
Luanne was visibly troubled and her friend was getting worried. Luanne had been broken up with Lucky for two months. Even before her and Lucky hit the rough patch that led to their parting ways her attitude had been different. Not the happy, blissfully clueless, piece of southern thickness those who know her have come to expect and love. These last few months she’s always seemed preoccupied and when questioned dismissive and distant.
“Luanne, what’s wrong? You’re not being Luanne. Are you still hung up on Lucky?” asked Jaime.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime.”
Jaime grew worried and decided to change the subject.
“So do you want to go to Luke’s Saturday night? He and his friends are crazy! We need to just wear next to nothing, go there, and show off. Then leave early. They’ll be so about us then we’ll just leave!” Jaime envisioned their victory and laughed. Her chest bouncing as she didn’t have any support on.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Luanne responded, blankly, as she finished another of her friend’s cigarettes.
Jaime was sure a wild night of flirting and showing off followed by an abrupt departure would be just what Luanne needed to get her back on the right track. She felt accomplished already. In the way that she and Luanne’s type often do as they envision their future through rose colored glasses.
“Alright, I gotta go. So you can give me a ride tomorrow?” asked Luanne, with a curious increase in vocal energy that Jaime could not explain.
“Anytime, just call. I’m off all day.”
Luanne made eye contact with Jaime for the first time in 15 minutes.
“You’re the best” said Luanne.
Jaime felt sad at that moment. It confused her as this small compliment should have lit her up. It didn’t and it was the way Luanne said it. As if it meant something more than a simple thank you. She stood up and squeezed Luanne tight. Their breasts each flowing outward as they tried to escape the pressure of the embrace.
“I love you girl… you know that right?” asked Jaime.
“Yea, I love you too Jaime. Mind if I take a cig for my walk home?”
“Take them. I have a carton in the fridge.”
“Thanks” Luanne responded, relieved. She squeezed back to equal Jaime’s embrace.

---

As Luanne walked home one thought, and one thought alone, was dominating her. She literally had to shake her head once in an attempt to push it away. The wind was calmer now. It was summer so kids were out playing hide and go seek. She saw a young boy find and start chasing a younger girl. The young girl was laughing uncontrollably as the boy tackled her onto the grass. Luanne was struck with a profound feeling of nostalgia. As she watched her steps she reminisced on her summer nights as a young girl running from boys. She tossed a cigarette butt into a drain. She crossed her arms under her breasts and her cleavage grew. The good memories of summers past were distorted then gone, replaced by a knot in her stomach. She had begun to hate her body. She hated that her breasts were so big. At one time they were such a source of confidence and pride. Now they disgusted her. As she thought about this she almost wanted to uncross her arms as she could not even stand indirectly touching them. She hated her golden blonde hair. A feature all of her girlfriends constantly said they wished they could have. “You can fucking have it” she thought. Anymore she just wore it in a lazy pony-tail. She hated her thick, round, protruding ass. Something most girls would hate but she loved once upon a time. An asset guys in her area were most keen on. She knew what she had and she flaunted it. Now, it was most decidedly a hate filled relationship. With her chest she could cover up, which she did when she was anywhere but at Jaime’s. But with her ass there was nothing she could do. All of her clothes were what they were. Short, tight, or revealing. In most cases all of the above. As she thought about her wardrobe she began to hate the girl she used to be. This caused her to tear up a little as the thought of hating ones younger and more innocent self is tremendously complicated and confusing. Luanne would never think on that sort of ‘meta’ level but she did know what she felt and it was weird. As she turned down the alley behind Rainy Street her steady pace was significantly slowed as her eyes met the yellow walls of the Hill residence off in the distance. Red truck parked in the driveway. For a second all thoughts and feelings were absent as if she were a deer in headlights. Slowly a feeling of dread surrounded her. She had been down this alley hundreds of times. If she had any talent in her hands she could draw it from memory. That said, for the past few months it has felt absolutely alien to her. She tightened the cross under her pale, ample boobs and began the final trek home. She was sick to her stomach now. She felt sweat beginning to accrue on her forehead. Her jaw was tight. Her hands were clenched. This all became apparent at once as she landed her first step on the driveway.
“Luanne!”
She felt as if she was hit on the back of her head as all the feeling of the past minute was instantly gone.
“Luanne look!”
She turned and looked towards the sound of her name. Bobby and Joseph were running toward her. Bobby was holding something in his hands.
“Bobby, what?” Luanne called out half in a daze having come from the mind state she was in.
“It’s a frog we found down by the Johnsons pond. Look how big it is!” Bobby cried.
Bobby and Joseph arrived at where Luanne was standing sweating and dirty. In Bobby’s hands was a rather massive green frog.
“Bobby that’s gross” Luanne said half aware.
“Do you think Dad will let it in the house?”
Luanne felt a quick jolt of electricity shoot from her head to her toes when Bobby mentioned him.
“I don’t know Bobby. Maybe you should let Joseph keep it tonight and find out in the morning. He might be sleeping” Said Luanne with ulterior motives for keeping him unbothered if at all possible.
Suddenly aware that he’s been mentioned by Luanne Joseph’s gaze was broken away from her thick round ass.
“Yea, my dad won’t care!” he stammered trying not to lose the image of Luanne’s deeply defined ass crack and underwear lines in her tight red cotton shorts.
“OK, Joseph. We can keep it at your house. But if my dad says it’s OK he’s moving in tomorrow! Now come on your mom got us hot pockets for the sleep over!” Bobby cried.
They both ran off towards Dale’s house. Joseph clumsily looking back at Luanne then disappearing behind his dads minivan. Luanne felt sick again as a result of seeing the dead insect on Dales truck. “He’s gross” she thought as she considered the type of guy who would have that on his truck. Then she turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors. Now sick to her stomach for another reason.

---

The light were on but nobody was in the kitchen. The thought had occurred to her to rip one final cigarette before she went in but at this point was numb and plus Aunt Peggy didn’t want her sneaking cigarettes in the back yard anymore. The numbness was slightly lessened at the thought of Aunt Peggy. Basically Luanne’s mom now she felt close to her but more on a friendship level. She thought Aunt Peggy was one of the most intelligent people in the world even though most of the world thought, while friendly in her own way, she was an over confident windbag. Suddenly Luanne became aware she was standing at the sliding glass door looking into the house but unable to open the door. She was temporarily frozen in time as she neither wanted to go in nor continue to stand there looking like a weirdo. As she began to raise her hand to the door the light went off in the kitchen. Luanne stood there with her hand on the door handle for a few seconds. Then she slowly opened it. There was no risk of creaking or grinding as he kept everything in perfect working order. This thought caused knot to return. She slowly closed the door behind her and locked it. As she walked to the doorway to the living room she could hear Aunt Peggy talking to herself. Something about “fixing something when he should be in bed”. The acute awareness that often goes with sneaking around suddenly fell out of her. Numbness was all that was left. He was awake. In the garage. The sweat returned to her forehead. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk to Aunt Peggy in this state so she waited in the dark kitchen until she heard Aunt Peggy in her bedrooms bathroom then slipped into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it. No lock on the door. There used to be one until a few months ago. She started crying quietly. She sat down on her bed and took her shoes off. She had white ankle socks on with pink paws dotted throughout. She peeled off her red shorts and dropped them into her hamper. The white cotton underwear matched her socks. She slipped on Jaime’s Arlen High sweatpants and got under her covers. She felt exhausted from the mental anguish of the past hour. Foolishly she held onto a single hope as she always did at this moment. Laying on her side in her room in his house she hazily stared at the clock on her night stand. Cigarette smoke and winterfresh gum on her breath. The clock read 10:32 PM…

>Part 2<

There was a tap at the window. Luanne cast a hazy look towards the sound.
“Luanne!”
She had not gained focus yet as she slowly rolled to a seated position and rubbed her eyes.
“Luanne! It’s Lucky! Come to the window.”
The voice of her ex-boyfriend somehow filled her with joy. She walked over to the window.
“Luanne… I’m an idiot. I nearly lost the best thing in my life. And for what? A bunch of losers? I need you back, Luanne. Will you come away with me?”

Luanne was filled with warmth and hope. She climbed out the window and into Lucky’s outstretched arms. He ran with her to his 4x4 and shut the door. Luanne was absolutely beaming. She was about to crank up the radio when she noticed the display looked weird. It looked like a digital clock. Slowly but deliberately her dream faded and she returned to reality. She had been looking at her clock. 11:17 PM…

As the hope and joy of her dream melted away it was replaced by the cold dread of her dark bedroom. As her mind made the transition she leaned up. There was light coming from underneath the door way. He was still awake. Luanne sat frozen. Listening for any sound. She thought she could hear something but then realized it was her own heartbeat. Pounding in her chest.

“Calm down, Luanne” she thought to herself. “He just forgot to turn off the light.” She could hope.

As she continued to sit there in silence a lack of any sound had a calming effect. Was she in the clear? The second she allowed her anxiety to relent she heard the garage door open. A cold pall was cast over her. Her only reaction was to silently lay back down and curl up. Her pounding heart the singular focus. As it began to echo in her ears all fell silent when she heard her door open. No sound. No feeling. Only the black of her eyelids. It felt like hours to Luanne before she heard her door close. As she listened to him walk to her bedside the chill turned to the feeling of insects crawling up her back. It was all she could do to not physically brush away the feeling he had draped upon her. Heart pounding again.
He stood at her bedside for a full minute. Looking at his prize. The line of her ample body causing his manhood to press against his jeans. He took one final swig from his Alamo can and put it on her bed table. Luanne heard the jangle of his belt as he removed his pants. As ants on her back were now biting her the knowledge of what was about to happen nearly drove her to vomit. She swallowed hard as he slunk under her blanket and pressed his throbbing dick against her. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and began to grind into her large ass. It was at this time that the cold sweat came and all feeling was gone. If Luanne had a mind she would understand that this was a defense mechanism to help her cope with the extreme nature of her predicament. But alas, she does not. However, what was undeniable was the feeling of nothingness that washed over her. He was now holding her hips as he pressed his penis in-between her legs as best as he could while still clothed. He liked the pressure. After a few minutes, another pressure was too much to bear. He removed his boxers. Slid her sweat pants down to her knees and placed his throttled member in-between the soft upper part of her thick thighs. He could feel the involuntary wetness develop through her white cotton panties as he started to dry hump her. Luanne could smell the mixture of his constant bad breath and stale Alamo beer creep down her face as he began to lick her neck and ear. She began to tear up as his hands moved across her stomach to her breasts. He began to fondle her breasts over the bra. As he kneaded her breasts he began to moan in her ear.

“I love you, Luanne” he stammered out as he continued his assault.

The mixture of precum and pussy juice had become audible with his thrusts. Sensing he was close he slowed down. He ran his hands over her stomach back to her thighs. He rubbed them over then moved one hand down to her pussy. The fact that the whole area was moist filled his entire being with excitement and a warped sense of connection to Luanne. “She is enjoying this” he thought to himself. He gently pushed her to the side as he removed her sweatpants and panties. As he laid back down beside her flat on his back he took a deep whiff of the mess she had made in her panties. The unmistakable smell filled him with carnal lust. He adjusted so that he was sitting with his back to the head board and she was sat in-between his legs facing away.

“Luanne? Luanne… are you awake?” he whispered.
Luanne began to cry. The soft whimpers driving Hank Hill to near sexual insanity. He gathered himself.
“Luanne… hold your arms up.” A request that was always made and never followed.

He removed her shirt unassisted and pulled her towards him so that she was sitting on top of his engorged member. Driving it into her mattress. Softly he draped his hands over the top of her breasts and moved up and down over her bra. Hank liked the last little barrier. Soon it was more than he could take. He pushed her forward slightly and unclasped her bra. He moved the straps off her shoulders but was careful not to let it fall off the front. In one fluid motion, he moved his hands from the top of her breasts down. The bra fell to her lap and he fondled her heavy breasts. His fingers rising one by one as he dragged them over her large puffy nipples. Her whimpers became quiet crying. After a few minutes of groping her chest and kissing her neck one of his hands came up to wipe her tears. Her whole face was covered. This made Hank insatiable. He gently twisted her head to the side and began licking the tears from her cheek. Moved to the other side and cleaned that as well. The stink of his drying saliva altering Luanne’s perception. The salty taste in his mouth was the limit. He pushed her slightly forward at the hips and his dick popped straight up. He spun her around so that she was facing him, put her lifeless arms over his shoulders, and pulled her into him. Her chubby pussy lips were now wrapped around the base of his shaft. The heat from it surprised him. He began to involuntarily grind into her. Luanne was looking down, eyes closed, sobbing. Tears dripping from the bottom of her chin onto her breasts. He placed his hands on the side of her face and pulled up. Her eyes would not meet his.

“Luanne? Uncle Hank loves you. You know that, right?”
Luanne answered with question with more quiet crying.
“Luanne? I don’t want to hurt you. I want to love you. You’ll let me love you, right?”

He did not wait for an answer as his putrid tongue was thrust into her mouth. He began to grunt has his tongue made love to her throat. He had now moved his hands down to her ass cheeks so he could slide her dripping wet cunt up and down his shaft.

“Oh god, Luanne” he stammered as he began to feast on her neck and chin.

It was in this moment that awareness clumsily returned to her. It had never gone this far before. Never this intense. Luanne bravely ventured a quick a look into his eyes and he was not there. They were lifeless. Like a dolls eyes. She had to do something. She had to make a decision. To save the one shred of dignity she had left…

As he was mindlessly grinding her and the pace quickened she whispered, “…Uncle Hank?”

The sound of her whisper somehow shattered through him as he looked up at her.

“Uncle Hank…” she whimpered as she gulped down the putrid mix of his saliva and hers, face breaking out because of all his bacteria.
“…I’ll love you back if you’ll let me, Uncle Hank.”
The statement threw Hank Hill’s mentality for a loop. As he searched for words he noticed her arms slightly tighten behind his neck. It was all he could do to speak.
“How do you want to love me, Luanne?” he asked as he slowly began to grind again.
“Like this…” and with that she began to slowly counter his gyrations.

At this point Luanne stopped crying. Any thought aside from the void caused from being molested by her uncle was a light in the darkness.
Effecting an innocent Texas twang as best she could she asked, “Can we ‘jus rub ‘em together? As she softly but assuredly began to pick up the pace. All in the hope that agreeable vulnerability would calm his carnal lust.

Normally, this is not how Hank Hill operates He needs absolute control. Absolute dominance. But the magnitude of her request had pierced him. Had he finally broken her? These “sessions” have been escalating and getting dangerous. If she had succumbed to him, he had to play his hand right so he didn’t upset the delicate balance.

“Yes, baby. We can.” He answered as he slid down flat on his back.

Luanne wiped her nose with her arm, leaned forward over her uncle so that her heavy breasts were hanging down over him, and began working her hips. Slowly grinding her cunt up and down the length of her uncle’s big dick. Hank Hill had left himself again. Only this time he was in a haze of infatuation. Secure in the fact that he had broken her. She was his. He reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. Pulled her down slightly and began to suck on her puffy nipples. Popping them as he released her large areolas. As he was tonguing her breasts the sickness returned to Luanne. As with any trauma, being present in the moment invites the pain to come rushing in. She had to end this quickly. She began to roll her wide hips and press down into her uncle’s rock hard erection. Suddenly he stopped sucking her breasts. She cast a quick glance at her uncle and his eyes were closed. He began to gyrate into her deliberately. He grabbed her large warm ass cheeks with his hands and pressed her into him even harder.

Her uncle breathlessly spoke, “Oh baby. Keep loving me.”
His ass was now rising off the bed as his pelvis lifted her with each thrust. So much so that she had fallen forward and they were chest to chest.
“Oh Luanne… oh, God! I’m cumming baby!” he choked out as four ropes of her uncles hot cum forced its way in-between them.

Involuntarily, Luanne rose up off him and the cum began to drop down her stomach. As it began to reach the top of her pussy she cupped in with her hand. She looked at her uncle. His eyes were closed and he had a tired smile on his face. She stayed straddling him. Afraid to move. She silently moved her hand up her stomach to get the rest of her uncle’s sperm off her body and into her hand then wiped it into the comforter. As she did that he looked up at her.

“You’ve made your uncle very happy, Luanne.”

And with that he leaned off her bed. Bent down and put on his jeans. The reality of watching him put on his jeans. The hairy legs and the jangle of the buckle was too much for Luanne. The vomit rushed up her throat and into her mouth. She clenched her lips as tight as she could. Mercifully, her uncle did not look back and silently left her room. Luanne stayed motionless on her knees on the bed. Nose and eyes running from the acidic vomit that had filled her mouth. She listened as she heard the familiar sounds of his “after session” bathroom sounds. As she heard the click of their bedroom door she rushed to the window, threw it open, and let the vomit shoot out of her mouth. Two more rushes after that. When she was done she dropped to her knees and openly wept in the corner of her room. The confusion of what had happened. The absolute disgust at what she did to avoid worse. The panging dread at what she would have to do in the future. All this mental anguish was cascading over her and breaking her soul.

After a few minutes, she got up from the floor. She put on her sweatpants. “Jaime” she thought hazily as the tears rolled down her face. Slunk to the bathroom and showered. Slunk back to her bedroom. Ripped all the blankets and pillows off her bed then laid down in her towel.

As she regained focus she saw the can of Alamo on her night stand. She smashed if off and saw her clock.

12:31 AM.

To be continued.

Student teacher
I watch you every day up there, writing on the chalkboard. I can barely pay attention to the lessons, those sexy legs that I want to have wrapped around me, those big amazing tits that I want to suck on and play with, and that amazing ass I just want to give it a good hard smack! I know you have seen me watching you, with lust in my eyes. I've seen the looks you give me, so full of hot desire and lust.

Next week is my final week here; I need to make a move now. I wait until last class of the day, everyone has left. I go into the classroom and over to your desk, I ask you some questions about the homework, I accidentally drop my pen, it rolls closer to you than me. You bend over to get it, giving me a great view down your blouse to your perfect tits. You look up and catch me staring at you.
I grin and say "That�s a really nice view there Professor Hope", "Why �. thank you Johnathan� you say with a naughty look In your eye. �I�ve noticed you looking at me before with that look you have now, you like what you see?� You say as you undo a button. �Yes I do like what see� I say as I reach out and undo another of your shirt buttons. The shirt can barely contain your breasts now, one more button should cause them to pop out. You reach up and undo the next button, spilling your bra covered tits out. I reach over and start to fondle your tits through your bra, as you finish removing your shirt. I lean down and kiss you, deeply, passionately. I then trail kisses down your neck towards the valley between your breasts as you undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You moan as I capture your right nipple in my mouth, I pinch and tweak your left nipple at the same time, making you moan louder. I take my hand off of your nipple and trail it down your back towards your perfect ass. I give your ass a light smack, then harder as you as me to do it harder. Your ass is red by the time I�m done smacking it. I lift you up on to your desk, your legs on my shoulders. I grab your thong and pull it down and off. I tail kisses along your inner thigh, slowly heading towards your wet pussy. You grab my head and try to get me to go right to your pussy, I look up and say �Beg me, tell me how much you want this, how much you want one of your students to eat you out.� �Oh, god, please eat me out, make me cum hard. I wanna feel your tongue on my clit, and your fingers inside of me. Please I need this bad!!� you say. I give your pussy a quick lick, �Oh my God, YES, lick it good, mmmmmmmhhh�. I start to lick your pussy, as I finger your pussy, hitting your g-spot. Lick slurp lick as I eat your dripping wet pussy, and squish squish squish as I finger your pussy. I then start to tease your asshole with my other hand, slipping a finger in your ass, making you moan loud as you cum, covering my face in your juices. I stop and walk around to the side of the desk, take my cock out and tell you to suck it. You turn your head and start to tease the head of cock, licking it, making it harder. You start to suck on it, taking it deeper and deeper into your throat. Once I�m hard enough I go back to between your legs, rubbing my hard cock on your pussy, teasing you. �Do you want my cock in you, you dirty little slut? Tel me how bad you want it in you, sliding in and out of your pussy� I say. �I want your hard cock in as deep as you can get it in me; I want you to pound my pussy as hard as you can, make me cum hard, please. I�m begging you� you say. I rub my cocks head on you pussy again, pushing it into your hot wet pussy as your juices are dripping down your legs. I push my cock into you as hard as I can, burying myself deep in your pussy, my balls slapping on your ass as I pound your pussy mercilessly. Faster and faster I go, your pussy dripping juices everywhere, your tits bouncing all over the place, your moans echoing off the walls as I thrust into your pussy again and again, and again. Over and over.

I stop long enough to flip you on your stomach, grab your arms from behind, and push my cock back into your pussy. As I fuck you doggy style on your desk, I give your ass a good smack. I grab your hair, pulling it a bit, I ask you who�s a dirty little slut, you yell �I AM!� �You am what?� I ask you, You yell again �I AM A DIRTY LITTLE SLUT, PLEASE FUCK ME HARDER.� I answer by smacking your ass again and increasing the speed of my thrusts. All you can do is moan as I fuck you hard and fast, you pussy is dripping wet.

While I fuck you doggy style, I notice that you have a butt plug in. I grab the butt plug, and give it a tiny twist and say �Do you want to be fucked in the ass now?� �Yes, I love cock in my ass, please fuck my ass, I�m close to cumming, and I want to cum with your cock in my ass� I grab the lube I had brought just in case, using my fingers to lube your ass up, getting it ready. My cock slide out of your pussy, and pauses at your asshole, pushing against it, slowly entering you. You moan so loud I hear the windows vibrate a bit, as I push my cock all the way into your ass, till my balls hit your clit. I pull back and thrust back in again as I give our ass smack, leaving a red handprint. You moan loud as I thrust again, your tits swaying in the air, just above the desktop, your nipples drag across the desktop as they swing back and forth. You give one last loud moan before you cum HARD, squirting everywhere, again and again you squirt, leaving a large puddle of pussy juices on the desk and floor. As I pull out of your ass, I push the butt plug back in. We have to dress quickly as its Friday and security closes the school early. We just barely finish dressing and cleaning up when a security guard looks into the room and tells us we need to leave as the school is closing. We walk to the parking lot, we exchange numbers, and before you leave I give you a deep kiss on the lips as I grab your ass. �Don�t you forget to call me, we need to get together over the weekend for some more fun� I say. As we leave, I notice my ex-girlfriend giving us a dirty look.

Tell me what you think, comments, suggestions.

Does anyone have a copy of the bunny girl's video. One girl was filming in the bathtub. two young girl's covered in soap with a bunny tail on her butt. That video made me horny as hell. I hope somebody saved it.

I just spent three hours in a glory hole. I was dressed up in white hose with hot pink lace stocking over them. My shaved cock and balls were squeezed into a tiny little hot pink thong. I was wearing a white mini-skirt with a pink basque. I had a pony tail butt plug in and was shaking it like a little pony whore. I was all dolled up and slutty with a hot pink wig on. When I walked into the ABS and headed for the jack-shacks, about 6-8 guys followed me in. 3 hours later, I walked out with my pony tail in my hand because my ass would no longer hold it in. My pink thong was missing, my white hose were ripped from front to back. I had a couple of loads of cum in my wig, on my basque, and running down my chest. All I could taste was cum. My cock had been sucked dry. I was walking pretty wobbly and was the perfect little cum slut doing the "walk of shame" out to my car. I think that I need to get all cleaned up, let my poor stretched out butt get back to normal and then go back.