I confess i have a thing for my gf's younger sister, she is 17 now, ive been looking at her since she's 15, how her chubby tits grew, and how her figure grew sexy, i have a kid with my gf, and often when shes not around, her young sister woud play or do things with the baby, and her huge tits woud drop and giggle i always watch, thing is ive been lately having alot of wet dreams about her, i once saw some pics of her on the family pc, but she never showed her tits,only her butt, she always wears a bra around the house, but i once or twice ,have seen her bra less, and she once pressed her tits on me, i got a hard on then and my gf was around, i was so freaked , anyways, i just have this huge urge to fuck her ,or to txt her sister, or to start something with her, my gf is now pregnant, and we dont have sex casually.. so you know how it gets.,i guess this post sucks, but i had to get it out my chest.

there is this sexy little pizza guy that seems to bring my pizza every time i call. i never ask for him but it seems hes the one that always shows up. guessing hes 125 pounds 5'4 very short black hair. and they way he carries his self i was about 80% sure he was gay. so i tried something that i did by accident with a old retired repair man about 9 months ago and i'm still seeing him. but hes 100% a bottom. so i took the chance and ordered a pizza tonight was wearing my yellow see through G string. and sure enough about 20 minutes later a car showed up and when the door bell rang i answered it. DAMN it was some cute little chubby girl. and on the desk top my screen saver was going and it had 2 guys fucking while a girl set back and watched. she said nice screen saver and i have one the same panties as you do right now. and pulled her pants down just enough so i could see.
i laughed and said cool but do you have one of these in too turned around bent over so she could see my tiny butt plug. she laughed and said i have all 3 sizes but at home.
i tipped her $20 and ask that boy is he legal age and is he gay or bi. and she Cory he drives the red chevy volt. and i said its red all i know.
she said he legal and says has to be gay. but she hasn't ever ask him but will if she wants me to.
i invited her to stop by when she gets off work and bring another pizza i will pay for it and we can compare G strings. she laughed and said HMMMM.
but i dont think she is coming because of this china virus everything closed at 9 pm around here. and she never showed up.

Any fans of the "chubby big butt librarian"?

 will be happy to tribute your wives / gf. Big white dick more than happy to take video / pics of me jacking off to your girl. Your girl doesn’t have to be hot I like hot chicks, big butt housewives chubby teens all that. 

When my wife(19) left me(22) I was mentally broken and I let a lot of people use me. well not that many but a few. In particular I had my first same sex experience. I am not attracted to men. but for some reason I was absolutely willing to be truly abuesd. there were four(almost 5) men and three girls and one much older woman I did things with. the first experience He was between 40-50 chubby stubbly and actually not handsome in anyway. he made me into a regular fuck. he'd come around 2-3 times during the week and use me. the first couple of times were just oral. he told me to be in just a t-shirt and boxers when he arrived. the very first time he told me to get on my knees open my mouth and stick out my tongue. i closed my eyes. heard him unzip as he asked i if had ever sucked on a dick before. I replied, no. I think he liked that. he shoved a weak semi hard cock into my mouth and told me to suck him till he finished. he made me deep throat the first time. I didn't throw up or gag too bad. he wasn't as long as me but he was thicker. he finished on my face and said to be on my knees mouth open just like today next time he came over. he said he wanted me to call him daddy.

The guy liked my quietness and submissiveness and said I was very cute. he eventually got me to give up my anal cherry. he started by pulling me to my bed told me to set up doggy style he pulled down my shorts and licked my hole. I was so shocked and scared. I started apologizing but he said I was clean and he liked how I tasted. i tried to tell him not to because I afraid of catching something. I didn't want him to fuck me. he said he had a rubber and made me slide it onto him with my mouth. then he licked my butt some more and spit n it. I was so embarrassed. he slid it in and fucked me telling i was such a good boy. he kept at it for a few minutes then said the condom was probably making it hurt more and took it off and slid back into me before i could reply. he pushed my face down into the bed hard so to keep me from resisting. I was scared I felt raped and dirty and violated. I could feel him building up to orgasm as he said i'm going to breed yu. I started struggling and trying to push him off but he just held me down Ive never been very strong. he started saying be a good girl and take it. then he came in me. it was a lot there was so much. i just layed there cum dripping from my butt hole. he started chatting saying how good and nice i was as he started fingering my wet hole. I kinda felt good that i made him feel good but also like i was just raped because he didn't stop when he should of.

he kept fucking me for about 4-5 months 2-3 times a week sometimes less. he wanted to be my daddy and i had to be his little girl. he always preferred to cum in my ass. i tried to get him to use my mouth but he'd use it to get hard then he'd flip me around and slide in like i was property. i just finally gave in and let him tell me what to do. he preferred to take me doggy though a couple of times he spoon fucked me pinning me down my legs hooked immobile in his, my arms pinned and his hand on my throat. sometimes he'd make me cry and he'd muffle my mouth or force me to suck on his fingers. I finally cut him off when he started calling me his bitch and he was gonna breed me like a bitch in heat. he usually talked awful like that but it got worse and worse and when he wanted me to give it up to his dog i didn't let him come back.

I then found another guy(Teen) but i was scared after that first guy and just sucked him off till he came in my mouth. I never talked to him again.

There was another guy(30's) but he didn't like me and got super paranoid after he smoked something. Maybe pot but I think must have been stronger cause he kinda flipped out.

the fourth guy(20's) was a random thing and had a huge piercing on his junk that made me bleed he came in my ass because he ripped the condom. he was nice enough but he left me dripping cum and blood so I never saw him after that.

The fifth guy(50's) was big bristly fat but scary strong and gray. he took me to his house after finding me online. it was a long drive(longer than he said it would be) maybe 40 min I was so scared. deep into the country. truly the middle of nowhere. He had an incredible house was well off. very smart. gentlemanly. but he scared the living out of me because i don't get lost easily and I was really lost. I had smoked a huge 2gm joint before he picked me up. when he got me to his house he made me lots of sweet cherry alcohol drinks(hard stuff too) and then gave me something called a popper to sniff i've never heard of that or since but the whole night was disorienting. I'm tall and slim nerdy and with few muscles and he was built like a brick house short thick and he had muscles. he had gay porn on and asked if i would dress up cute for him. He pulled out a few boxes of women's clothes and kink outfits I of course gave in. I dunno why. I'd never cross dressed before. He picked out the kind of clothes that drove me wild when I was with my wife. A long tight thin dress(the grope fantasy kind) nylons a black bra and matching panties. he said he wanted me clean so he showered and washed and shaved me before he dressed me. I didn;t have a hair left(except on my head) after he was done. The whole time he kept up with the alcohol and poppers. I was feeling pampered and feeling good. Between my submissive nature and all this attention and admittedly the fear I was getting truly turned on. He asked if he could tie me down but I couldn't let him. I was far too afraid. He told me I was passable or more or something. and he loved me and I really gave into him. I dunno why(maybe the drugs and stuff) but I let him have it all. He took me so many times that night I lost count. I fell asleep in his bed with him. and if my ass brushed into his cock he took me again. he fucked me in ways I was sure would break my body. he put my ankles up next to my head and I thought I would die. In the morning before he would drive me home I had to cum for him. That was the first time a guy had ever expected me to cum. I always had just given. Even with my wife I had mostly given though I did cum often in and for her. I'm not easily pushed to orgasm. So he made me lay in his bed stroking myself until I came. when I got home I fell asleep with his cum still in me and he had fucked me so hard long and roughly I was bleeding again. I of course never contacted him again but I've been tempted. The way he treated me was really well even if the whole ordeal made me feel like i was going to be murdered. that was my last bi/gay experience.

i might tell the stories of the girls i did stuff with during my breakdown but I mostly just wanted to get this out there. I'm a loner and I don't have any family so I've never had anyone to confide in I also have high functioning autism and PTSD from being orphaned and put in the system. Might be why I took my separation with my wife so hard. that and the abuses she inflicted on me. I'm just looking for any genuine thoughts. I don't want to be heckled. I know that what I did was weird and disturbing and dangerous. But I wasn't my normal self. So yea. that's about it.

Ok, I'm cool with fucking a feminine guy in the ass or getting sucked off. Hell I've taking the time to go out with more than one boy that looked good in a skirt, but I have my limits.

Some of the guy on guy vids I see on here are a bit too gay for my liking. Don't get me wrong, I've fapped a fair share and fantasized to the fella on fella content here. I just have to draw my line right around jizz sticky facial hair.

I'm not condemning it or anything. if you're down, then have at it. I just find that fine line of whether or not I'm into it lies somewhere between my thinking "C'mere boy" and "Can I help you, sir?" just saying.

It's the same with girls, less hair is a plus for me, but I'm definitely into thick and chubby girls in a way that I just couldn't get into with a guy. Slim and slender boys please, with a side of thick and busty women.

Yeah yeah I know, I'm a fag. I said it first, I fuck male butts.

And ya know what? It rocks.

I've been with guys and girls. Not a single bitch boy of mine has ever told to me stop, or that I'm being too rough or whatever other reason to call the game.

I've never been let down when I'm getting some sweet boy ass, and a dirty secret those big corporations don't want you to know? Guys give way better head.

Damn, what a catch 22. Girls are pretty and damn sure carry a set of titties better, but a sweet eager to please girly boy is always the better lay.

What a world. Oh well. Don't know if you can relate, just keep it about the sweet sensation of busting a nut.

This past Friday night, with my wife back East visiting relatives, I invited over a new friend for a sleepover. We'd met three months ago on a local dating site and had fucked before -- always at her place -- with two four-hour sessions to our credit. She's exactly half my age (35 to 70) and a bit on the chubby side, but her height (5-11) helps make up for the 160-plus pounds she carries, and twice-a-week Pilates keeps her firm. She's a natural blonde with 36D breasts, plus nipples that always seem to be fully erect.

I picked her up at her townhouse, and we headed to a Middle Eastern restaurant on my side of town for dinner. As usual, our conversation was a mixture of contemporary thought (she's an attorney; I'm a tech writer), politics (we're both quite liberal), and sexual teasing. With our meal completed, we hopped back into my car for the 10-minute drive back to my condo. Since the building only has a single elevator and everyone there knows me (I'm on the HOA board), I was relieved that we didn't see a single resident as we traveled between the underground garage and my front door.

I took a quick shower while she made herself comfortable in my bedroom. Knowing her proclivity for squirting, I'd taken the time earlier that day to strip my bed down to its fitted sheet, under which I'd laid several bath towels. It proved to be a worthwhile exercise in caution.

As I emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of red silk boxers, I saw her playing with my cat while she had on only a bra and panties. "Orange isn't exactly your color," I said half-playfully. "Well, you'll just have to take them off, then," was her reply. Since I'm only an inch taller than her, kissing is a very delightful and simple process, and we lip-locked probably a hundred times over the ensuing 14-plus hours. She beat me to the punch and unhooked her bra, to which I voiced a mild objection. "I'm very mechanically minded," I said. "Besides, I was unhooking bras long before you were born." She laughed and shrugged her shoulders, which caused her bra to fall to the floor. "Oops," she squealed." "I guess you'll have to pick that up, Mister Mechanically Minded."

We made out for a bit while standing up, her tugging on my erect, silk-covered cock, while I cupped her breasts and sucked insistently on each of her nipples. She reached down to rearrange her panties and let me know they were of the crotchless variety. I soon ran my fingers up and down her rapidly moistening slit before tugging them off entirely. She climbed onto the bed, and I kicked off my shorts before joining her. Hands went immediately to each partner's genitals, and we French-kissed furiously while tugging and stroking.

After a few minutes of that, I flipped her onto her back. She knew what was next and opened her legs invitingly. I dove down between her pale, creamy thighs and began to slurp long, extended licks from the base of her pussy to her little pearl-sized clit. "I brought my trimmer, if that's too hairy for you," she offered. Her pubic area boasted a neat triangle of dark-blonde stubble, but it was hardly bush-like. "Hey," I countered. "I grew up in the '60s, when no one ever heard of a shaved crotch." Then I really went to work on her.

I've been fortunate to have had sex with a few multi-orgasmic women in my time, but she is clearly the queen of that realm. In our previous two encounters, I'm guessing she came dozens of times in a four-hour span. It's hard to keep track, though, because she crests from one peak to another in such a seamless way that's it's closer to one giant, rolling orgasm. I alternated between one finger inside and thrusting, two fingers inside and mashing up against her g-spot, and three fingers inside and twisting. As for attending to her clit, I alternately flicked it with my tongue, sucked it hard between my lips, nibbled on it gently with my teeth, brushed it back and forth with the fingers of my other hand, and pressed it hard against her pubic bone with my thumb.

After a good 20-30 minutes of pussy attention -- and a request by her for me to take a break -- I rolled onto my back and she proceeded to give me a very thorough blow job. I'm not terribly large (5.75 inches long and circumcised), so it's not difficult for her to take me entirely into her mouth. She calls that her "disappearing dick trick," and she accompanies the oral action with some digital ball-sack manipulation. Then she decided it was time to fuck, so she climbed on top of me and rode me to three pussy-grinding orgasms. Given my lack of length, her enthusiastic back-and-forth rocking caused me to fall out a couple of times. I was about to apologize (for the second time) about being a bit short when she railed against that.

"Don't you dare say 'sorry' again," she said. "You're nice and thick, and I don't know a single woman who would prefer a long skinny dick to a wide one like yours that fills her up." Secretly I doubted her statement, but I was enjoying the situation way too much to object. After her third orgasm, and sensing I wasn't quite ready to come, she climbed off and went down on my cock again, expressing her love for tasting her pussy juice on my dick. After a bit of that, I tugged on her hair and she slid up the bed so we could lie side by side. She used her left hand to firmly stroke my erection while I reached down with my left hand and played with her clit.

One of the things we enjoy during our sessions is telling each other naughty stories about previous encounters with others. Her initial "bedtime story" that night involved relating a visit she'd made to a friend of hers who was in Dallas on business. She flew down there at his invitation for a one-nighter, but realized upon showing up at his hotel that she'd forgotten to bring any condoms. [I've been vasectomized, and we're both very careful to "play safe" with others -- not that I've had any action other than with her for quite a while -- so she and I bareback it with each other, but she employs condoms with all other partners.] It was a Sunday night, and the local CVS had closed early due to a worker shortage. "So, we stuck to oral for a while," she related to me. "And then he fucked my ass, which seemed like the best option at the time." It was that last bit that put me over the top, and cum shot out of my dick and cascaded down across her hand like a lava flow. She was quite fastidious in cleaning it up with her tongue, sucking on her fingers in dramatic fashion as the final drops disappeared into her beautiful mouth.

I wasn't anywhere near finished with her, however, and she spent the next half hour or so submitting to my various efforts. It usually takes her a while to work her way up to a squirting orgasm, but I was determined to bring her to that level before we called it a night. As it turned out, it only took about three minutes of highly focused finger-fucking for her to spurt forth, and she managed two additional squirts over the ensuing 10 minutes, the last of which she induced herself with two of her fingers pile-driving into her pussy while I rubbed her clit with such speed that my hand was nearly a blur.

At that point we figured we'd reached a good stopping point. It was after 11 pm, and we were both fairly worn out. While she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and pee, I grabbed the rest of the bed covers (a top sheet plus a down comforter) and got the bed ready for the night. We both decided to sleep in the nude -- "In case one of us gets horny in the dark," she said with a wink -- and snuggled for a bit before rolling onto our respective sides in preparation for sleep. My bed is only a double, so it's pretty narrow for two people. We drifted off to sleep naked-butt-to-naked-butt.

For some reason, I woke up just before two a.m. While asleep we'd ended up facing each other, and as I awoke I decided to "test the waters" and see if she was game for a late-night fuck. As soon as I slid my hand between her tucked-together thighs, she leaned into me and said, "It's about time you woke up." "What do you mean?" I asked somewhat stupidly. "Well," she went on, "I've been playing with my clit for the past 10 minutes and waiting for you to notice that the mattress was rocking." I was hard almost instantly, which for a guy my age, is nothing short of miraculous. It only took me a moment, however, to seize the situation. In a flash (which, for a 70-year-old guy, is probably measurable in minutes), I threw off the covers and got on top of her. She pushed me away just long enough to draw her legs up toward her chest, and then she guided my cock into her pussy. It didn't take me long to pound away, although I was only able to keep up the thrusting for a couple of minutes before my arms got tired of holding the rest of my body up above hers. Sensing my dilemma, and clearly not willing to have me stop, she pulled me down so I was lying fully on top of her, and after another few minutes of enthusiastic fucking, I came hard inside her pussy.

At that point I was breathing pretty hard, but I had the presence of mind to roll off her (I weigh around 230 pounds) and catch my breath while lying on my own side of the bed. She reached up with one hand and pressed her fingertips against my neck, physically taking note of my pulse rate. "I guess you'll live through the night," she said in a humorous tone. "Besides, my CPR training has lapsed." "Ha-ha," was about all I could manage in reply.

We fell back asleep but woke up almost simultaneously around eight o'clock. A quick trip to the bathroom for each of us, and we were back at it. Our morning session only lasted about 90 minutes, but she got in a good dozen orgasms and I made sure she got a good taste of her cum-filled pussy as I dipped my fingers into her snatch and coated them with a mixture of our respective juices before shoving them into her mouth. After a short rest, we climbed into the shower together and did a pretty good job of cleaning each other off. She admitted to being a bit sore from all the attention her pussy had received, so I avoided doing anything sexual to her as the water cascaded down around us, but she gave me a very nice soap-covered hand job as a reward of sorts.

After getting dressed and making sure she'd packed up all her stuff, we went to a nearby deli for brunch, and then I dropped her off at home. I'm not sure when we'll meet next -- we each have busy work schedules, and she has a couple of business trips set for the next month -- but I know the next time we're together it'll be more of the same. I'm already looking forward to it!

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!

This is a story of a guy that followed me around the mall and kept trying to attack me one day. It involves a bit of sexual assault but not as bad as it could have been. Also I skipped out on a lot of the details, especially with the touchy parts, even though I remember all the details. If it doesn’t make sense I can describe a lot more detail in comments or PM, but I’m skipping a lot of details to keep it from being a novel (I tend to ramble if I get started). And I apologize for this being so long. I was typing it on a word document and then pasted it here and saw it was so insanely huge.
To be honest I’m not really traumatized by what happened, and the experience wasn’t remotely as bad as some of the people on here have gone through so I don’t demand sympathy. In fact I’m not even really bothered by it as much as I should be (Is that weird?). It’s something that only I (and I guess the guys involved) know about and I like to keep it that way, which is why I didn’t report it or anything. In writing the whole thing down it makes me realize that I was pretty stupid. After the first situation I really should have learned better than to let myself get into the others (you'll understand if you read it), but I guess I kept shrugging things off and assuming that I could get out of all the situations without making a scene and getting police involved, even though in reality I was just lucky every single time. It was really stupid of me to not scream and thrash as much as I could, I don't even know why I couldn't manage that. Still, luck saved me and for that I ended up better than a lot of other people, and so I'm thankful for that.
I guess I’m just writing it so that somebody random can read it, since I want to keep it secret from my real life. Again I don't know how much sense my writing makes, hopefully enough.
Anyway on to the story for those who care to read it:
It happened in spring of 2012. It was the day my older sister, Amy, was graduating high-school. Pretty much her grad events started at like 10 AM for group pictures in the sunlight and stuff, then they had a break for about 4 hours to do what they wanted before everyone had to meet up for the convocation part. My sister and her friends all wanted to spend the break at a nearby mall, since we needed lunch/shopping and had time to kill. My mom drove us all to the mall and dropped us off there, having to drive home to pick up my step-dad and younger brothers who didn’t want to come with us in the morning.
When we got there Amy’s friends decided it would be fun to go have lunch in the gas station in the same parking lot. It had a little A&W attached and they thought it would be hilarious to go to a fast food restaurant and eat gross food dressed up in all fancy dresses. We got our burgers and sat down at one of the tall round tables with the high up stools so that their dresses stayed mostly off the floor. I didn’t have that problem since it wasn't my grad, so I was wearing a moderately short minidress. It was black, stretchy, and had the zipper on the front. Big dresses aren’t comfortable, plus there wasn’t a chance of it being stepped on and ripped (which happened to one of them at the dinner).
We were eating our lunch in the corner of the gas station where there were like four tiny round tables. As we were eating two guys came in and got some food. One of them, a chubbier fellow with a thick beard and a hat, went and sat down at one of the other tables but the other one decided to stop and chat with us. I guess the outfits made it pretty obvious it was grad time, and Amy’s friend Christine was in a super friendly mood and more than willing to chat with him about how awesome of a day it would be, even though he was probably like 50 years old and looked like a cross between a trucker and a homeless guy.
That was all fine with me, I’m not a talk-to-strangers type of person but I just ate my food and didn't get involved, however I did listen in. It was mostly the greasy guy chatting about all his grad stories, girls’ dresses getting ripped, guys falling through tables, a couple fights etc. however there were a lot of mentions about how good looking the girls were back then, as well as a few random compliments about how good all of us looked. He didn't seem entirely creepy, just so friendly it was awkward.
Anyway after I finished my meal the guy got up and left the building (leaving his friend still at the table), and after drinking my whole drink I really had to go pee. The other girls were not finished eating (because they do more talking than eating) and so I told Amy I was going to the washroom really quick and she just said to hurry up because they wanted to go to the mall soon. So I found the bathrooms and went in. They were on the other side of the convenience store near the refrigerated drinks through a door and a little hallway.
I finished in the washroom and went back out, but jumped in surprise as I opened the door since the chatty old dude was standing right in the door frame, staring down at me. He was certainly not on his way to the guy’s room. He must have come back inside and noticed I had gone to the washroom and decided to come visit me. He was partly blocking my way out while I stood with the door open. I’m not stupid and could tell what he wanted me for, since he was very obviously undressing me with his eyes as they looked me up and down. His stare was so intensely penetrating that I felt like I was already naked. I felt tempted to just strip down right there to save his imagination the effort, and by the look on his face his imagination was already doing a good enough job that he might not even notice the difference.
I knew I was in a dangerous spot, but I honestly couldn't think of a good way to get out of it. He was a very strong looking person and I was certainly not, so if I tried to push him out he would just push in harder. He hadn’t tried to grab me but I was easily within arm’s reach, and it looked like if I tried to scream he could quickly shut me up. He was standing in the door so I wouldn't be able to slam it shut, and I didn't want to step back into the washroom and let him in. All those options seemed they would end with a smile on his face, and definitely not a smile on mine.
The weird thing was this guy didn't seem at all like the person who had been talking to us before. It was him of course, but his entire attitude seemed to have flipped upside down. He no longer looked remotely friendly or full of energy like he was before. He must be really good at faking a friendly attitude, or else has multiple personalities or something. Now he just seemed terrifying and confident, to the point that I felt like there was no hope of me getting away, and that I the only thing I was supposed to do was lay down right there and let him do his thing. That feeling came in waves, sometimes so strong that several times I was very close to simply giving in and saving the effort of trying to avoid something that seemed guaranteed to happen.
Fortunately for me I always snapped out of that feeling quick enough. I knew I had to get out of there, but I didn’t want to try anything that could make him get violent, so I decided to try just assertively walking out the door. I was hoping that he was trying to seduce me in a non-violent way and that if I looked confident about leaving he would let me go. He was only blocking half the door, but unfortunately when I tried to walk by he casually leaned his arm across to get in my way. I pushed on it a little but he wouldn't move, and instead used his other hand to feel down my back, quickly coming to rest on my butt. I was getting a bit scared with him touching me but I still hoped I could get him to buzz off.
“Excuse me!” I said to him in that bitchy tone that always comes with those words. I pushed on his arm again, and he definitely knew I wanted to go but unfortunately was having none of it. He just leaned in and his other hand made its way around the bottom of my dress. It didn't take long for me to realize this was a failed attempt so I turned toward him and smacked his hand away. He responded by pushing me up against the door frame, pressing his body against me while his hands ran down my sides.
(Anyway I’m sure you all get the general idea of where this was going. In the interest of keeping it clean and short I’m going to skip all of this part and briefly summarize. Also because I tend to ramble, so I’ll just skip it entirely.)
Pretty much I tried to keep calm and wriggle away ineffectively for a while. I didn't want to make things get violent since if he started using his full strength I wouldn't have had any hope of getting away, but when I wiggled my way out he just shoved me against another wall. He ended up getting more aggressive and I just got scared to the point of being practically motionless for who knows how long. He kept whispering insults and gross comments about me and for some time I was convinced they were true.
Some sense kicked into me when he pinned me up against the door and I turned the handle, causing us both to tumble down onto the floor. This was followed by a few struggles that nearly ended with him on top of me, but ultimately had me kicking him right in the face with my pointy heel. It was such a good kick that it pretty much reduced him to a crying mess (which he deserved) and let me get out of there. The whole time I forgot to just scream for some reason, but it turned out fine since he was the one left crying on the bathroom floor.
(It probably doesn’t make sense when shortened that much so you can ask questions in PM or comments and I’ll elaborate. If it weren’t for character limits I would end up rambling on with paragraphs about every moment.)
We left the A&W and I didn’t tell anyone or call the police, simply because I had gotten away before anything terrible happened and I really didn’t want to ruin Amy’s grad day by having the police come. Also because if I told anyone then everybody would be sympathizing and checking if I was okay rather than celebrating Amy’s success, which was something she desperately needed since she was kind of depressed. You can call me an idiot for that if you like, but at the time I thought it was the best decision and I really didn’t want to deal with the police anyway. I wasn’t traumatized or anything and I know it could have been much worse. Most of the stories on here are WAY more horrifying than what happened to me. I guess it was made a bit better by the fact that I gave him what he deserved in the end.
As I left the washroom I noticed the other guy was still at his table, finished his food. He was staring at me, but pretending not to. Since the two knew each other I assumed he must have known what had went on in there. Maybe he was keeping watch to make sure greasy trucker guy had me all to himself, or the more likely situation that he was waiting for trucker guy to finish so he could have his turn with me, in which case he was probably very upset that I was out of the bathroom, or that I was still wearing a dress! Either way I’m glad he was out here instead of both of them meeting me in there. I barely had it in me to fight off one pervert; had both come then I don't think it would have taken much convincing for me to do what they wanted. Then again maybe he was totally innocent and I was just being really suspicious.
We had to go to the mall to get movies and snacks for the next day, since the girls were planning to celebrate graduating by doing absolutely nothing productive for as many days as they could manage. We spent a solid half hour or so looking through a tiny local movie trader in the mall and while we were there guess who showed up? Greasy trucker guy! Sadly his face was not as broken as I had hoped it was, although there was a clear cut on his cheekbone.
Trucker guy came in and saw us looking for movies, and once again inserted himself into our group and started talking enthusiastically with the chattier girls in the group. I had resolved beforehand to not make a big deal out of what happened and I still wasn’t going to, even though he had deliberately pushed in between me and Amy to use himself as a wall so nobody would see him put his hand on my butt. I tensed up a bit but didn’t make a scene about it, since I had decided to not let what happened interfere with grad day and to be honest this was nothing compared to what he wanted to do in the gas station. I pushed his hand away gently a few times but it always ended up back right away, a bit more firmly each time. Eventually I just decided to put up with it for the time being and pretended to read some DVD cases. For quite a while he managed to carry on a perfectly friendly and innocent chat with the girls about what movies are good, all while stealthily trying to claw my dress up.
It was actually impressive how he managed to be so friendly when his only real motive was to cop a feel of me. Clearly I hadn’t given him as many of those as I was supposed to back in the gas station. I had resolved before not to make a big deal out of any of this, and if I could let the other stuff slide then this certainly wasn’t a big deal in comparison. He was clever and persistent, and subtle at least, and it’s not like anyone was noticing. Plus I didn’t think he could really do much more than that without drawing attention to himself, but that didn’t stop him from trying. I think he knew that I was never going to report him so he wasn’t afraid of doing this in public, and it seemed like he was going to keep trying to go further. I guess he had no reason not to as long as I was just standing there letting him do whatever he wanted.
I figured the things he started doing were getting so obvious everyone should have noticed, but none of the girls did and they kept chatting. To be honest I still wasn’t too bothered, since I knew eventually we would leave and nobody but us two would have any idea, however what worried me is actually getting caught like that since I didn’t want anyone to know that I had let some old dude grope me in public. I couldn’t tell him off without everyone knowing that, but I realized it wasn’t like he was going to attack me for trying to move away. I pretty much spent the next however long shuffling about the movie store acting interested in random things. He’d follow me around casually to put his moves on me but I never gave him a long enough before I went elsewhere. Eventually he got tired of not getting anywhere and said his goodbyes to everyone and skittered off.
After getting our movies we had to go to the attached Wal-Mart for snacks and all the junk food and pop we could find. We still had time before my mom was supposed to come get us so we killed a bit of time there as well, since we bolted through all the food isles grabbing stuff and had enough junk food to feed a fat army. We spent about half an hour going through the electronics section. My family used to play a lot of Wii games (and some Xbox) so we were browsing the games aisle for a long time. One of the girls decided to buy a DS game and went looking for the attendant to get it out of the cabinet. While she was gone Chris looked in the cart and decided we still needed Munchies. Since they were still waiting for the game they asked me to run and get some while they waited here so I headed back to the food section, snagged a huge bag of the stuff, and started back.
Walking down a main aisle again I looked ahead and noticed old trucker dude yet again. I realized at this point that he was going to keep following us until we either vanished or he got what he wanted. He was between me and the electronics section and hadn’t noticed me yet so I ducked into a side aisle full of furniture and decided to go around a different way so I could not have to run into him. The electronics were a section in the middle and I figured I’d just go around and meet up with Amy before he saw me, however when I got to the main aisle on the other side I saw him again walking down an aisle toward where I was. He still hadn’t noticed me since I saw him through the shelves but I still didn’t want to run into him so I went down another isle. We played unintentional cat and mouse throughout a good chunk of the store.
I ended up in a section close to the gardening section at the back corner of the store with the tall shelving everywhere. I figured by now he knew I was in the store and was looking for me so as long as he didn’t see me I would be fine. I was at the end of an aisle at the back wall. Nobody was around were I was and there were only a couple people down near the main aisle on the other end. One of them was trucker guy, wandering down the main aisle glancing down either side. The aisle near me had a bunch of bins and storage stuff and it was possible for me to look over them through the shelves and watch him. By the looks of it he couldn’t see me. I watched him stealthily since if I tried to leave the end of the isle he would see me. He looked back and forth a few times down the last aisle.
When he finally turned away and started down the other direction I breathed a sigh of relief. However apparently I was watching so intently I didn’t notice footsteps behind me until it was too late, and I suddenly felt two arms around me from the back. One of the hands covered my mouth for a time, although I tend not to scream when I’m scared anyway. After a few moments I saw the trucker guy turn around and head back toward me. I knew the person behind me was the other one from the gas station because I could feel his rough beard on my neck, and I figured they must have been trying to herd me away from the busy part of the store so they could trap me, which I apparently fell for like an idiot.
(Here’s another part that I’ll be skipping a lot of details on.)
I was still holding the bag of munchies in one hand for some reason, but the other was free to try and push him away, although it didn’t work. By the time I realized I’d never push him off like that, trucker guy showed up around the corner and I was immediately stuck between them. I couldn’t push away, there was nobody else in sight, and Amy would never look for me in this corner of the store, so I quickly resigned myself to my current role as the tasty filling of their human sandwich. Thankfully neither of them got to enjoy their filling for very long since we eventually heard loud footsteps from a couple aisles over. To be honest I hoped for a moment whoever was there would go away, because I didn’t want anybody to see what I was doing. Luckily trucker dude let go of me, walked over to the other aisle and started talking cheerily to the person there, leaving me in the arms of the chubby (less strong) guy.
He seemed to be under the impression that at this point I wasn't going to resist anything, so he wasn’t really restraining me. I waited a little while until he was not paying attention and smashed my elbow into the side of his head, and I was able to get away without giving trucker dude time to get back and put me back in my place between them. I even made it out with my bag of munchies. I was really lucky that person showed up in the next aisle, even though he hopefully had no idea what was going on, since without him I was completely expecting to be there until they got bored of me.
Neither of them really chased me, which is good because with the heels I was wearing they could have crawled and caught me. I guess they knew they failed and didn’t want to make a scene, and trucker dude knew I wouldn't make a scene on my own if they left me alone. I was in the clear again and wasn’t worried about them trying something in any places with other people so I resolved to stick next to Amy for good.
When I got back to Amy and the others, they were leaving the electronics and I gave them their food. I got a “What took so long” response, but I didn’t tell them that less time was spent getting the food than was spent trying to escape from touchy perverts. We went to the checkout lines but they only had one open and we had to wait in line for a long time.
Unfortunately I hadn’t seen the last of my admirer, and while we were standing in line I noticed him on the other side of the registers standing by the bathrooms staring at me. I made eye contact by accident and he nodded his head toward the bathrooms with a sly grin, obviously wanting me to join him (and probably his friend) inside. He somehow must have thought I was just playing hard to get, and just teasing him by kicking him and trying to escape. I guess in his backward way of thinking, being felt up in the gas station, followed through the mall, and grabbed at in the back of a Wal-Mart would fill any girl’s stupid, horny brain with such overpowering desire that I couldn’t possibly resist jumping into the washroom to let him finally have his way with me.
As sarcastic as that was, it’s a little embarrassing to admit that I was actually, for some reason, tempted to go over there, and I have no idea why I would even think that while knowing what they would do with me. Unfortunately for him I decided that it would be a bad idea to go into the washroom with them (duh). We all left together and as we walked past the bathrooms he didn’t look as disappointed as I expected, considering I was being such a fun wrecker. Maybe he still held out hope that I was going to give in to my lust and crawl back to him, but more likely he had gotten enough satisfaction from everything else that day even if I left without giving him the entire experience, although I’m sure his imagination had no trouble filling all the holes.
We left the mall and were picked up by my mom in her van. I sat through the convocation while my sister got her awards and diploma. It was all pretty boring to be honest; especially compared to how unpleasantly exciting my day had been so far. The rest of the day went really well and was lots of fun, however the whole day I kept thinking I would run into those guys again, since they kept finding me in the mall. While we were taking pictures outside the church where the convocation was I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of trucker dude in the far side of the parking lot for just a moment, although I was almost certainly seeing things as there was no way he could have found out where we were. Still I didn’t want to go and investigate on the off chance it was actually him, since there would be the remote possibility of being dragged into some white van to be used and left in a back alley, which really didn’t appeal to me.
By the end of the day I was past it all though and I was able to totally enjoy the dinner and dance afterward and have lots of fun. It’s not like I forgot about it, obviously I haven’t, but it wasn’t hard to deal with in the end. I’m totally okay and always have been, and I’m still confident I made the right decision in not telling anyone about it, even if everyone here thinks it was a stupid idea. It wouldn’t have improved my life to get the police involved, but it certainly would have ruined Amy’s grad, and I would have been a terrible sister and friend to do that when she was already so upset about her own life.
Anyway that’s the story. Hopefully it’s still good for this board. Any comments, questions, etc. are welcome. I’m totally good with just talking or answering anything because, as I said, I’m not traumatized by it

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.